Tumgik
#sits and sips coffee lol
leatherbookmark · 1 year
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interrupting a deluge of love pouring out of my heart to ask the most important question: WHAT is this camera yashica t2 ;-)
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featuresofinterest · 2 months
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when you notice the woman near you on the bus is reading gay erotica 🫡
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yoshistory · 2 months
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They have a lot of coffee options at work and I'm considering grabbing a lot of packets and trying to make some at my house without the actual maker for it.
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gojonanami · 4 months
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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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simpjaes · 5 months
Text
NIGHT-SHIFT (p.sh)
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Sunghoon, a keen and professional man between the hours of 8 AM to 5 PM. ServiceKing, a faceless and proud man between the hours of 9 PM to 12 AM. Sunghoon’s secret night-life has nothing to do with the faces he sees day after day...until it does. or the one where you pay for a one on one call with a faceless cam guy you’ve been watching for a little while, and the next day your boss is avoiding you like the plague. 
minors dni 
PAIRING ― boss / cam boy!sunghoon x afab reader  
WORDCOUNT― 4.5k
WARNINGS―  dub-con since reader doesn’t know it’s him. 
CONTENT― office setting, sunghoon is a service top/soft-dom/whatever his clients need lol
 NOTE ― this was supposed to be a drabble, but i just....it needed a little more plot sorry. it's not very good, like fr this is not up to par with what I wanted... but i wrote it so im gonna post it.
nsfw tags under cut
nsfw tags― dubious consent, cam sex/virtual sex, dirty talk, masturbation instructions, umm…finger fucking, jerking off, fantasies, role-play type stuff
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
What are the chances? Honestly, what are the fucking chances?
Sunghoon sits up quickly from his relaxed position upon hearing a voice far too familiar on the other end of this call. He’s lucky he doesn’t have his camera on just yet, you’d have seen the embarrassing reaction to…well…hearing you of all people.
He knows the world can be small sometimes, but this is too small for comfort as he hears your muttered voice through the microphone again.
“So, what am I supposed to do?” You say. 
“Ah, uh–” Sunghoon pauses. There’s no way it’s actually you. Can you not recognize his voice too? “What type of call did you request again?” 
“Full service.” You remind him. 
Oh. You’re into this kind of thing? That pretty, well-mannered employee of his? The one who sips coffee quietly at her desk while actually responding to her emails? The one who never shows up to co-ed parties? The one who always dresses appropriately and addresses him in a timid way?
You…just paid a cam-boy to get you off in full? Not just any cam-boy either, you paid him?
God, his cheeks are so heated at the arousing thought. Never once has he ever imagined you in any scenario that doesn’t involve excel spreadsheets and finances. Arguably, you’ve probably never thought of him all spread out fucking his fist either but…you’ve blatantly seen him do it already.
He wonders how long you’ve been seeing this part of him, how long you’ve been getting yourself off all alone while he puts on a show for hundreds, and sometimes, thousands of people. 
As detrimental as this is, it’s his job to do this. You paid him to do it, just like how he pays you to do your job. He can’t be letting this hold him back. No, in fact, he needs to get this hour long session over with as quickly as fucking possible. 
“Right,” Sunghoon lends a chuckle, nervous sounding on his end but to you it just sounds cheeky. “Can I get your name, babe?” 
You’re quiet at first, never having done this before and absolutely not wanting this random horny guy to know who you are. Honestly, you already requested that only he turns his camera on during this call as well. As if you’d give out your real name. You give him a name that rhymes with your own instead, and there’s another chuckle after. 
He knows you’re lying. Out of all the employees that are under him, you’re the one he has to correspond with the most. After all, you’ve been up for the promotion to being his assistant for the past three months. He knows that isn’t your name. 
 Smart girl, just like he knew you were. 
“Is that so?” He tilts his head at his blank screen in amusement, watching the microphones light up with each breath. “Alright, and you’ll do everything I say, yes?” 
You nod to no one, realizing he can’t see you and instead giving him a hum and gentle words of “of course.”
His image flashes across your screen just moments later. The same as his usual streams. Face out of frame, hand strong and willing, his cock out and on display– only half hard. 
“Listen to me very carefully,” Sunghoon calls out now, as if to show you that it’s time to begin, your almost-name falling from his lips shortly after. “Don’t hold your breath, you paid good money for this, and I want to hear you.”
Oh man, this is embarrassing for you to be doing this. But truly, anything at this point is better than another night all alone. 
And he does hear you. Relishing in that voice he hears day to day reciting memos and budgets, only this time, you’re calling out pleasurable reactions to how he tells you to fuck yourself. 
He’s good at it too. You can’t help but listen to every word, touching and massaging when he instructs you to, stopping just short of orgasm for him to ask, “That feels good, doesn’t it? Wish you had me doing it for you, isn’t that right?” 
Always using the fake name. Giving you full-service by the end of the call. 
Safe to say, you’re feeling refreshed by the next morning as you ready yourself for work, wanting very much to book the infamous ServiceKing again. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Fuck, he can’t even look at you. Not after the way he got off last night. 
Not after hearing you moan out the way you did while he simultaneously imagined you all spread out on his desk for him. Not after hearing the fucking wet between your legs as you frantically tried to cum when he told you to. 
Not after you did cum for him. 
“Mr. Park–” You chime through his door, not quite noticing the way he stiffens in his seat. 
God, if you had called him that last night…
“Hm?” He composes himself by acting bored and uninterested in whatever papers you have held tightly against your chest. “What is it?”
“I got the statements back from our parent company, I think–”
“Great. Just set them down on my desk.” He cuts you off, patting his desk before hoping you get the fuck out of his office before he ends up breaking office rule number one.
What is office rule number one, you might ask? Never fuck a co-worker. What’s worse is that you’re not his fucking co worker. You’re his employee.
You raise a brow at his demeanor this morning. The usual not-so-up-tight Sunghoon appearing far too distracted today compared to usual. Most mornings, he’ll at least give you a smile and a “thank you.” 
“Mr. Park, is there anything I can get for you?” You ask with concern in your voice.
Sunghoon pauses every thought in his head as he looks at you. Narrowing his eyes and wondering if maybe he’s just overreacting. Maybe he's mistaken and that girl from last night isn’t you at all. After all, there’s plenty of people with the same pitch in their voice. She didn’t even turn on her camera, and she gave him a different name anyway. 
Maybe he just wishes it was you. 
“No, I’m fine–” He says, mistakenly calling out the fake name rather than your actual name. 
You miss the way his eyes widen for a split second before correcting himself to your real name. 
“Ah, my apologies. Got a little tongue tied.” 
You stand there in shock. No way in hell he just called you by the name you spoofed to a cam-boy last night. Coincidences can be so weird, and being called that hits you a little too close to home. 
It feels awkward in the room now and both of you play it off as a genuine mistake. Though, to you, it has to be a genuine tongue-tied version of your name. Sunghoon couldn’t possibly know about that. Besides, he appears to be more tired than usual anyway, so…you choose to believe it’s a crazy coincidence. 
You give him a nervous chuckle as you wave yourself off and out of the room with a small “It’s okay, you know where I am if you need anything.”
What he needs is to watch his fucking mouth. What he needs is to stop thinking about how you just reacted to being called that. What he needs is to pretend that none of this is happening and do his goddamn work. 
And he tries. He really does. Unfortunately, his eyes go from blurs of numbers and words on spreadsheets to the window of his office. Just outside of it. You.
How is he supposed to focus after kind of, accidentally, practically fucking you? Sure, he never touched you but…it really was you. The way you reacted to that name was so telling, and he can’t help but actually check you out now. 
You, with that body. You got off to him, with those legs of your spread out while staring into a screen. All alone, listening to his voice, moaning for him…and now you’re just sitting there in your business casual outfit like he’s not unintentionally getting hard. 
So, he avoids you. At all fucking costs, he avoids you. 
You get up from your desk? So does he, making sure that if you start coming his way, he’s walking out and in the opposite direction. You send him an email? Out of office, despite clearly sitting at his desk. You call his phone to ask a question? He forwards you to his current assistant. 
And this happens for days. To the point you know that promotion is slipping from your fingers. 
Naturally, you’re frustrated with the office-dynamic. After all, you’ve heard rumors of picking favorites. You thought you were one of them, but it appears that Sunghoon may just decide to try and beg his current assistant to stay with bribes of double pay. 
You’re more frustrated as the days go by. Leaving work yet again with no good-byes from the boss who used to show appreciation for how hard you worked. He’s colder than usual, he’s stiffer than usual, he’s– a fucking asshole these days.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Ping! 
Sunghoon stares at his secret email in disbelief. 
NEW REQUEST FROM: [your email/username]
$500 PENDING. 
FULL SERVICE.
Requester note: work has been hard lately, will you help me de-stress for a little while? 
[ACCEPT REQUEST]   [DECLINE REQUEST]
Sunghoon hovers over the decline button for a solid thirty seconds as he burns a hole through his screen. Work has been hard for you lately, huh? Has it now? Try being him. 
He shifts his mouse to the accept button, wondering if he even needs that extra five hundred dollars. Those funds just to suffer more at work? Just to suddenly have the need randomly throughout his day to make you moan for him? Just to have the sounds of your pretty voice echoing in his head more and more the longer he ignores you? 
His finger clicks, hitting the accept button as he lets out an exasperated sigh. 
Why did he just do that?
Wait. 
Maybe this will help him get through the work weeks. Fucking you through words alone in secret, never telling you who he is, always letting you use him even if it’s just through audio and visual stimulation. 
After all, if you found out who ServiceKing is, you very well may quit. Hell, you might get him fired. Fuck.
This is dangerous. 
Yet, he feels the excitement in his gut before it even hits his cock as the clock ticks. He gets to hear you again soon, you get to watch him cum again soon, he–oh, he’s so turned on right now just thinking about it.
And the time comes too slowly for his liking. He feels as if he’s been edged by the time the two of you enter the call and he’s immediately turning his camera on. 
“Ah, look who it is,” Sunghoon starts, already positioning himself with a raging hard cock on the screen. “Had me wondering if you’d come back to me.”
You don’t know why your cheeks heat up, but the feeling in your gut is miles better than the frustration and anxiety that you felt throughout the day. 
“I was wondering the same thing,” You speak into the mic meekly, hiding your face despite knowing he can’t see it. “I just need to get my mind off of stuff for a little while.” 
“Oh yeah?” Sunghoon chuckles into the mic, his face perfectly hidden. “Wanna give me some context? Maybe I can use some of the information for–”
“God.” You immediately start, shutting the man up on the other side of the screen in an accidental frustration-dump. This is not what you paid him for, but you still appreciate the space to release your brain before, well, your cum. “My fucking boss.”
Sunghoon’s ears perk up, lazily stroking himself as you continue with a frantic voice. 
“I swear he just flipped on me. I thought I was doing so good, I thought I was gonna get that new position, but now he’s just ignoring me and treating me like some temp or something.” 
Sunghoon hums lowly, listening intently to the way you bring him into conversation to a man that…unfortunately, is that very same boss.
“Hmm, that’s interesting.” Sunghoon continues palming himself as he soothes you through your frustrations. “Your boss isn’t praising you.” 
You pause, feeling a ping in your gut. 
“If I were him, I’d praise you every day–” Sunghoon softens his voice. “Every night.”
“Oh…” You listen to his words, feeling your frustration melt out of you in an instant as you now focus on the way his cock twitches through the screen. 
“Wouldn’t let you go a second without thinking of how good I am to you.” He continues, both hyping himself and degrading his day-time self. “If I were your boss–”
You interrupt his words with a very quiet groan, he fucking heard it.
“Mm, you like that?” He smiles to himself, gripping the base of his cock and thrusting up to show the full size to you. “The thought of your boss liking you a little too much?”
You hum. Not that you’ve ever thought about it too deeply, but now that he’s said it, praising you, putting down your actual boss, telling you what he’d do if he were him? 
You guess, for tonight anyway, you’re into it. 
“What’s his name, babe?” Sunghoon asks, wondering if you’ll actually out his name to a stranger. 
“Park Sunghoon.” You expose him instantly, full name and all, even with a bit of bite in your voice. 
Damn.
“Oh, yeah?” Sunghoon draws back, jerking his hand up once. “I’d fuck you better than Park Sunghoon.” 
You smile at the thought, imagining yourself with more power than Sunghoon has. Like you’re his boss, you’re the one dangling a promotion just out of reach before giving it to someone else. 
“See this?” The man on the screen grunts out to you, fucking tight thrusts into his fist. “Watch me, baby, get a good look.”
And you do watch. Intensely, you stare at his big cock, the head of it darkened and leaking with each pass of his hand. You’re not even touching yourself at this point, but it’s like you can feel the force of it.
“Now, I need you to open those legs for me.” He instructs you. 
You do as he says much like before, letting your legs fall open but not yet letting yourself touch. You still sigh at the movement, your panties alone shifting were enough to make you want to hump your hips up. 
“Now, turn on your camera.”
Silence. Your ears ring momentarily at the words as you immediately close your legs.
“What?” You ask in a higher-pitched tone than usual. “I requested for no c-”
“No.” Sunghoon mutters, shifting his position to lean towards the microphone and whispering now. “You do as I say.” 
He hears you huff at his words, but he hears the shifting around on your end. 
“I want to see that pussy open for me.” He continues in that same low-rumbled voice. “I want to see what Park Sunghoon is missing out on.”
You don’t know what it is about this situation that turns your discomfort into pure, rushing arousal. Never in your life have you ever considered fucking yourself on camera, especially after paying someone else to do it for you, yet– 
“Do I have to show you my face?” You ask quietly, already trying to find a lower-face-mask just to be safe in case you lose your composure and accidentally reveal yourself. 
“No,” Sunghoon assures you through a deep breath. “I already told you what I want to see.”
More silence save for the shuffling he still hears on your end. 
“Open your legs and turn it on.” He encourages you now, keeping his hand still on himself as he waits to see if you’ll actually do it.
And…
Oh fuck.
“There she is.” Sunghoon hums, trying to keep his composure at the way you give him access. Honestly, he didn’t think you would, but you do, and all he can do is lay himself back again, staring straight at the image of you. 
Your face is out of frame much like he is but this is the first time he’s ever seen you with so little clothing on. No bra, thin tank top, no shorts or pants, just panties. It takes everything in him not to moan out at the image. 
After all, it’s confirmed to be you. 
Fuck, that’s you right there. 
“Already so wet too?” Sunghoon groans now, focusing on that spot between your legs, probably so slippery and warm. 
You’re very shy though, not moving much better yet speaking as this faceless man takes in your image. You feel awkward, but still turned on despite squeezing your legs together and hiding that spot from him. 
“Oh, baby–” Sunghoon coos out in a way that makes it seem as though he was endeared by that. “That’s not going to work.”
You’re more focused on your embarrassment than you are on the way his cock leaks and pours pre-cum at the image he’s witnessing. 
“How am I supposed to show you how much better I’d take care of you?” He continues, reverting back to the same role play from before. “I bet that boss of yours wouldn’t want to bury his tongue in you like I would.”
Your legs fall open at the words, and he can see the way you thrust up just slightly. 
“That’s it, you need someone to touch you, don’t you?” He continues, watching you intensely. “Need someone to lick that pretty pussy?”
You nod, once again forgetting that he can’t see you do it before you finally speak.
“Please.”
His moan after hearing you seems far more intense than the first time you did this with him. In fact, he appears entirely focused on you. Role playing in some way but somehow acting more real than last time too. 
“You deserve some love for all that hard work.” He says to you, encouraging you to keep talking for him. “Play with yourself, go on. You need it.”
You follow his instructions on instinct, as if your body truly does need the release. 
“Feel it– not too hard, just graze over your panties.”
Ah, still you listen, holding your breath at each feather-light touch you give to yourself per his request. 
And he watches. Hyper-focused on the way that darkened spot on your panties grows bigger and bigger. So wet for him doing exactly what he wishes he could do for you come tomorrow morning. 
“Your other hand babe, slowly, lift your shirt and–”
He doesn’t even have to keep instructing you. You do exactly as he wanted, lifting your shirt gently before playing with your own nipples, still lightly grazing your fingers over your swollen clit that’s restricted by your panties. 
You moan quietly at the feeling, wishing so much that it doesn’t have to be your hands doing this. 
“That feels good, doesn’t it?” Sunghoon hums, now working his palm against his own length, gentle, barely grazing it. “Now, look at me.”
You draw your eyes forward, the image of him already arousing from before, but now? Why is he so much hotter now? As if the screen is nothing but a window into his bedroom. 
“You see how hard I am right now?” You can hear the smile in his voice as you continue to work yourself up to near-sensitivity. “Never been this hard for anyone else.”
Oh, that’s bullshit. He does this as a job. He’s just sweet talking to you for sure. 
“Been thinking about you since the first time you booked me.” He continues, keeping the touches light and making sure you don’t press on yourself too hard either. “Was hard all week for you.”
Okay, yeah, maybe you are a little too into praise. Lie or not, it’s exactly what you need to hear right now. 
“You're gonna be just as good for me tonight too?” Sunghoon hums, tightening his grip. “You’re going to push your panties to the side and show me that you missed me too, right?” 
Yes. The light touching has been nothing but torture at this point, wanting so badly to be told to do more. For yourself, for him. 
You barely recognize how your embarrassment leaves your body when you stretch your panties to the side, letting him see how they stuck to you only to unfold in a glistening mess for him. 
“Messy, messy, messy.” Sunghoon moans, struggling so hard by now not to fuck his fist straight to orgasm. But no, he can’t ruin this moment. 
That’s your pussy, looking so wet and tight, so needy. 
“Gently still, open up for me.” Sunghoon groans lowly, watching so closely the way you spread open your lips for him, the hole pulsing and dribbling so much slick. 
Never in his life has he ever wanted to bury his tongue into someone this badly. Goddamn, he’s nearly obsessed with you at this moment. He loses composure.
“Fuck–” He seethes, feeling his cock twitch wildly against his hand. “I want you so bad.”
Those words feel more real to you than anything else. Virtual sex is one thing but to have a man blatantly moan those words to you as if he means them? As if he has never let it slip for any of his other scheduled calls?
“What’s the name of your boss again?” Sunghoon asks, pretending as if he forgot, just to hear you say it. 
He notes the way your pussy clenches through his words too, as if he can see the confusion not through your expression, but through your arousal alone. Asking you that turned you off.
“What’s his name, baby?” Sunghoon presses, offering an excuse. “I wanna know who it is that gave me this tonight.”
Alluding to the fact that the only reason you’re paying him is because your boss made you feel like you need release in some way. 
“Park-” You start, not wanting to deny his demands. “Sunghoon.”
“Ah, yeah.” Sunghoon holds his breath, closing his eyes briefly just to let that breathy voice sit in his mind before focusing back on you. “Two fingers babe, slide them in.”
God, you listen just as well as you do at work. He should have given you that promotion the day he saw your application. Even without seeing you do as you're told in this situation, he already knew you were going to be getting that interview next week.
He listens to the way your cunt swallows up your fingers, so wet and needy. Swollen around the two digits as you slide them in with a breathy sigh. 
“Spread your fingers, open up.” 
You do, presenting your opened core to him without any shame at this point. Allowing him to look, wanting him to look.
“Now, say–” Sunghoon swallows around a lump in his throat. “Thank you Sunghoon.”
Your pussy pulses around your fingers, recoiling again at the name. 
“Say, Thank you Sunghoon, for all of this stress.” 
He continues, trying to encourage, adding another lie of an excuse just to get you to break. 
“Because, if it weren't for him, I wouldn’t be needing to take care of you like this, now would I?”
In your horny brain, it makes sense.
“Thank you, Sunghoon.” You moan, plunging your fingers into yourself without being told to do so, moaning out for the faceless man on the screen at your break in composure. 
And, well, Sunghoon himself is on fire. After all, you’ve only ever referred to him as Mr.Park, and hearing you practically moan his name in such an intimate way? It does nothing to keep him from spiraling into an even more selfish mindset. 
“Again.” He instructs you, watching the way your legs shake through saying his name. 
“Thank you Sunghoon.” You continue, as if the words are natural despite feeling intense irritation for the man. “Thank you.”
And, well, that very name you’re moaning is now also moaning. That little fake name you gave to him falls from his lips after you say it each time, fucking into his fist and hoping you’re watching, nearly unable to ask you to stick another finger into yourself.
Not needing to ask at all, apparently, because you do it yourself. You even bump your clit up against your wrist too. 
Shit. 
He needs you.
“Thank him for what?” Sunghoon starts to ask, feeling an orgasm approach far too quickly. 
“For making me come to you!” You answer him as if you’re frustrated, hips bouncing up against your hand just to dig your fingers in deeper. 
“What else?” He asks now, forgetting what it is he should not be doing. 
“Hmm?” You answer in a drawn-out moan.
“Thank him for what else?” He repeats first, only to follow up with his own answer. “For giving you a reason to cum.”
“Yes!” You groan, now grinding your hips up and against your palm without relaxing back against the bed. Intentionally chasing as your eyes remain on him, watching him pull and tug so roughly. 
“So fucking pretty” Sunghoon praises as he snaps his hips in time with his moving palm, eyes so tuned into you that– “Fuck–” He moans your name. “So pretty.”
And he didn’t realize it. Half expecting you to moan back for him, he’s still moaning as he watches you halt what you’re doing and cover yourself entirely.
“What did you just call me?” You ask in an out of breath voice. 
Sunghoon repeats your fake name to you, feeling the energy shift in an instant.
“No. You just called me–” You repeat your real name to him. 
“Ah, sorry babe, must’ve gotten tongue tied.”
There’s a rush of anxiety within you as you stare at the screen. There’s….no fucking way. 
Given, you’ve never seen him outside of a suit. The voice you hear doesn’t click in your head as Sunghoon’s either, considering he’s never a man of very many words. 
Instantly, you’re covering your camera with your hand, watching how the man on the screen spreads his legs out and drops his cock. Like he’s waiting, like he’s listening, wondering. Are you making a fool of yourself right now?
Are you misreading? 
He seems calm, and if it really is Sunghoon…surely he’d be disconnecting right now, right?
Why would he even be fucking himself on camera anyway? The guy makes bank! You’re the one who sees his paychecks, after all. Still, there’s a twisting in your gut as you ignore the way you still drip against your sheets. 
Very quietly, just to see, you work up the courage.
“Mr.Park?”
It’s silent for a few seconds as the man on the screen shifts, a blur of movement forcing you into a state of motion-sickness. 
You almost thought he was going to chuckle at you and ask if you were thinking about your boss rather than him. You almost thought he would use that to his advantage. 
You almost thought you were wrong, but– he disconnects. 
A few moments later, you receive an email with a refund of your five hundred dollars. 
And two hours later? Lying in your bed with anxiety in your gut, you get a text from none other than Park Sunghoon.
Mr.Park: Can we talk?
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
― part two here!
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silkentine · 4 months
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All I could think while drawing Nami was, “Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?” And, of course, with Robin I was thinking, “save a horse… 🥵”
Design Notes and other opining below the cut:
For Nami, I wanted to go for a mix of cocky Jersey mafia newbie and surfer boy. I like to think that some of the horrendous outfit choices that Sanji makes (especially in the movies) were actually picked out by Nami. She’s the shopper!!! But yeah, the vibrant swim trunks and graphic tees just scream Nami. I also wanted to put him in a wetsuit/rash guard because I think that’s a sexy look so sue me if you hate it. You cannot argue with me that Nami doesn’t wear swimsuits as clothes.
He’s toned but not as muscular as Robin or Luffy (for example) because he isn’t a front-line fighter, I want him to maintain the same kind of role that Nami has in the animanga. He’s the best navigator in the world!! I couldn’t decide if I wanted to change the violent tendencies that Nami has, but ultimately I think he’d still give the more deserving members of the crew a healthy wallop (although I might portray it more cartoonishly). Boy Piece!Nami still grew up under Arlong’s authority so he spent a lot of his childhood walking on eggshells to protect his village and his brother, Nojiko, so I think he never really got to learn “you’re not supposed to hit people just because they frustrate you” lesson. I gave him a shark-tooth necklace because surely Arlong had a few loose teeth to spare once Luffy took her down. Victory spoils LOL
If he can get the girls to stop wrestling and sit down quietly for a while, he likes to host card games (with betting, of course) or watch the clouds while sipping whatever fruity cocktail Sanji whips up. I believe that Canon!Nami is a total lesbian, and I can’t possibly envision a Nami who doesn’t like women so Boy Piece!Nami is bi. I am, of course, a Namivivi truther and Vivi is also a man in this AU. I don’t hate Sanami within this dynamic though… lots to think about.
Okay!!! All-shipper mindset aside, let’s talk Robin. I gave him long hair because 1) it’s hot and 2) I think it makes him look like Dragon. Yeahhh, I subscribe to the Luffy and Robin are half-siblings theory because I think it’s funny and makes some sense. Crocodile is 100% Luffy’s Mom in this AU and I think Robin knows it LOL
For his outfits, I wanted to lean a bit more Indiana Jones where I could; he’s still primarily cowboy inspired though. For the main look, I went with the Skypeia color palette hehe, I think Robin looks good in yellow. I did some flower-petal shaped color blocking on his chaps because I think it’s cute and subtle. I really love that the powers of the Hana-Hana-no-mi are like… unexpected for a “flower flower” fruit and I think Robin would be more aware that juxtaposition as a guy. You might also be wondering about the gloves and I initially just had it for his cowboy look but I decided to put them on all the outfits up until the events of Enies Lobby. Canon!Robin has a really difficult childhood and I think it’s exacerbated by the fact that she’s a girl on her own. If Robin was a boy, he’d probably have an easier time living on his own but would be a lot less emotionally open. All of these elements combine to make him want that physical barrier between his real hands and the world. Once he can trust that the Strawhats will always be there for him, he’s more willing to be more physically open.
I also think it’d be cute if he was much more of a coffee drinker :3c I see Canon!Robin as a connoisseur who likes a well-brewed espresso but Boy Piece!Robin needs a cup of joe (no matter its quality) every chance he can get. So I drew him with his special #1 ARCHAEOLOGIST mug.
It would make me so happy if you left your thoughts in the tags or replies!! Even if you hate everything about them, I just really like engagement hahaha. I’m thinking girl Usopp is next despite the poll results because she’s on my mind rn (don’t hold me to this, LOL I’m fickle). I’m making these for fun so I just wanna make designs in the order that interests me the most. Check out the tag “girl piece” on my blog to see all the genderbends I have so far. And happy pride!!!
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cxrsed-angel · 3 months
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Knuckle Deep in the Backseat (Joel Miller x Fem! reader smut)
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rating: 18+
word count: 3k
summary: Joel convinced you to learn how to drive and offers to teach you, but ends up in the back seat with you.
warning: Smut, age gap (Joel is in his 50s, reader is in 20s). Fingering, dirty talk, Daddy kink, pet names, car sex, established relationship.
A/N: Title is inspired but causal by Chappell Roan but the fic has nothing to do with the song. This actually was in my draft since last year and was "finished" but it needed work lol.
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The sun is barely up bit its still too bright, and the birds are chirping too loudly. You can feel the crisp fall air as you stand outside. You hated being up this early. You don’t even remember how Joel got you to wake up this early. Joel knew you weren't a morning person, but he had convinced you with shitty coffee to practice driving after finding a couple of gas cans. Said it might come in handy, and he doesn’t want you to be unprepared. The thought was sweet, but waking you up at 7:00 a.m. wasn’t. You figured it would be later in the day like 12pm not the ass crack of dawn. You followed him to the truck, your eyebrows frowning due to how early it was. 
“Good morning, baby. ‘You ready to drive? I woke you up ages ago. What took you so long?” 
Joel greets you with a big smile. He's leaning against the old truck, way more energetic than you are. Over the years, he’s gotten used to waking up early, which you didn’t understand. You hated how chipper he was in the morning; you couldn’t relate. You’d be lucky if you rolled out of bed before noon. 
You walk up to him, flipping him off before taking the coffee from his hand. He laughs and watches as you take a sip of coffee. You walk to the driver's side of the car, and he follows behind you. You watch as he opens the door and starts hot-wiring the car to start it. 
You see him standing next to an old four-door black truck, holding the coffee he had promised, smiling. “You know I used to have a truck like this; it was black—” You nod, staring at him, not really listening to him go on about his old pre end of the world truck he used to own. You're still trying to wake up, zoning out a bit. You stare at him briefly, and he realizes that you haven't been listening. 
He stops rambling about the mileage he had on his old truck and the deal he got on it. “You ever drove one of these before?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer. You give him a deadpanned stare, narrowing your eyes, 
“And when would I have driven one of these, Joel? Considering most cars stopped working about 20 years ago.” You knew you were being cranky, but you didn’t appreciate being up before noon if your life wasn’t depending on it.
He looks up from hot wiring, mumbling under his breath, “fucking smart ass” You roll you’re eyes and watch as he continues messing with wires until you hear the car turns on; you stare at him as he walks around.
 His ass looks particularly good in his jeans as he walks around the truck to get into the passenger seat. Normally, you would try to make your staring more subtly, but it was hard since you’re barely awake; he just looked so good. The greying hair, his pretty brown eyes, the wrinkles around his forehead from frowning for the last 20 years, the cuts around his face, his muscles peeking through his shirt sleeves. You’re broken out of your trance when you hear his deep Texas voice that had lured you out here in the first place. 
“Are you gonna stand there and check me out all day, or are you gonna get your ass in the car.” 
You stop daydreaming, his words snapping you out of your semi-dirty thoughts. You walk to the car and get into the driver’s seat. You’re sitting in the driver's seat as he asks, “Ok, so tell me what you remember.” 
“Well, not much, considering the last time I was in a car that worked, I was a toddler,” You answer again sarcastically, rolling your eyes, still cranky and grumpy. 
Joel turns his head to look at you, narrowing his eyes at your snark. He knows it usually takes a good 30 minutes or so for you to be yourself when he woke you up early, but today, you seemed extra grumpy. 
The first time Joel woke you up early in the morning, you gave him short responses or cursed him out every other sentence all morning. It was earlier on when he met you. Joel thought you were pissed at him or that he did something, so he responded back with short responses and attitude, which led to a lot of tension the rest of the day. But after a couple of weeks of early morning runs, he saw that that was just how you are, and he eventually got used to it. He also realized that if he gave you coffee and was patient, you’d eventually wake up faster. Still, it didn't work every time, and it seemed like this was one of those mornings where you were extra cranky and a pain in the ass. 
You take another sip of his coffee and sigh, realizing you were being too bitchy; you hand the coffee back to him. “I’m sorry. That was a bit much. I’ll tone it down. Promise.” 
He looks at you as he puts the coffee in the cup holder, unsure if he believes you. He replies dry and sarcastically. “I'm sure you will.” He starts talking about something, but honestly, you weren’t listening, too lost in those brown eyes of his to focus on what he was saying again.
 You see him motion to the thing with numbers above the steering. You know it's probably important, but you're far more interested in how good his hands look as he gestures to the different parts of the car. Fuck why did he have to be so hot? 
“So, um, 20 years ago, you would’ve had to take a test and worry about a lot of different rules of the road and deal with people riding your ass, tailgating, and a lot of other shit, but um, now I guess the important thing is just getting somewhere as fast as possible isn't it? You’d probably not gonna drive often, but it's good to know.”
You nod, paying attention to his words now instead of all the dirty things you want him to do to you, trying to focus on getting ready to drive. 
“Alright, you feel those two pedals down there. The one on the left is the brake, and the one on the right is the gas; you only want to use one foot while driving; you can really mess up the car if you press both at the same time. See these here are your shifts to D for drive, P for park, R for reverse.” He pauses, thinking about anything he might’ve missed, but he remembers you weren’t gonna be driving like he used to, “Thats all you really need to know.” 
You watch as he explains everything to you. He tells you to put it into drive, and the car starts moving forward slightly. You shakily put your hands on the wheel, gripping it tightly, and press down the gas pedal, nervously chewing on your lip. He guides you through an old road that wasn’t too overgrown or hard to navigate. After a few minutes, you feel like you're starting to get the hang of it. You feel Joel place his hand on your thigh, resting it there. You look over at him slightly, wondering if you have messed up or done something wrong. Still, he says nothing about letting you drive, resting his hand on your thigh, and occasionally squeezing it. 
“Am I doing okay?” you ask quietly as his hand continues to rest on your thigh, slowly rubbing further up your thighs.  You feel his hand creep up higher and the air in the truck getting hotter as his hand makes you feel warm. You lose focus on what you are doing and feel the car drifting off the road as his hand reaches further up your shorts. You feel the arousal building in your core. 
“Doin' great baby, just try to keep the wheel straight; you're drifting sideways a little.” He leans over you, grabbing the wheel to make it straight before letting you take over again, “Atta girl, see, you're doing perfectly.” 
His hand lightly squeezes your thigh reassuringly. You swallow hard, trying not to let his actions and deep voice affect you, trying to focus your attention back on the road. But that went out the window once you felt his hand rub the place you needed him most through your pants. 
“Joel,” you whisper his name. It comes out more of a moan than you intended; he leans over the gear shift, kissing your neck and sucking on your skin. You close your eyes, feeling your body getting hotter and your heart beating faster. You had forgotten you were supposed to control a vehicle until he moved his lips off your neck. 
“Focus on the road, baby; after all the shit I’ve been through, I don't wanna die because you drove us into a damn tree.” 
You open your eyes, listening to him, and focus back on driving. At least you try to, but you fail once his fingers start unbuttoning your jeans. His hands go down your pants and slowly caress against your pussy over your panties. You feel your face heat up, getting wetter, more turned on by his fingers teasing you. 
You don’t know how you’d manage to drive this much without crashing the truck, but you lose what little self-control you have left when Joel moves your panties to the side. Your foot moves off the gas pedal, the car stops, and you can't take it anymore. You close your eyes, feeling yourself get wetter. 
“Joel! I can't–ah– I need you please, please, please, I need you,” you beg and whine to him, wanting him to do more, but all you hear is his deep voice laugh at you as he removes his hand from your pants. 
“All of a sudden, you have manners, and bein’ polite.” he mocks you as he moves back into his seat, watching you get a bit mad.. “What happened to all that attitude and snark you gave me 10 minutes ago.” He continues as you look at him, your face flush and hot. No way you continue with this driving lesson after feeling his fingers against your core. 
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry I won't be a pain in the ass anymore.” You try to apologize, hoping he’ll accept it and put his hand back. You look at him with soft eyes, practically beginning him to fuck you. 
He looks at you for a few minutes before shaking his head and giving you a smirk, not being easily won over by your apologies or the 180 in your attitude.
“What?. You think a few sorrys gonna have me forget how much attitude you gave me for no reason?” You frown as he continues, “No, sweetheart, you’ve been an extra wiseass this morning, and I don't think you deserve it.” 
You shake your head to apologize again, hoping to convince. “Joel… Please, I said I was sorry. You know I’m not a morning person, and I never mean it.” He doesn't say anything as he looks at you. You can tell he’s debating whether to drive back to Jackson or go to the back of the truck. “Alright, fine baby, get in the back. But I ain't letting you get that easy,” he grunts in a deep Texas voice. You smile, glad he had given in. 
You unbuckle your seat belt and crawl into the truck's back seat. You're about to leave the car, but Joel places a hand on your shoulder, stopping you. 
 “You gotta put it into park, darling, or we’ll go rolling into a tree.” He gently reminds you as he opens the passenger door. 
You glance at the gear shift, remembering you were supposed to be a driving lesson that had taken a turn.
 “Oh, right.” You sit back in the driver's seat, putting the gearshift into P. You couldn't turn the car off since it was hot-wired, so you watch as Joel reaches over and pulls another small lever thing up, not exactly sure what it is for. 
“The emergency brake. Just to be safe.” 
 After parking the car and making sure the car wasn't going to roll backward, You hop over the console and crawl into the back seat, waiting for him to join you. You watch as Joel gets out of the passenger seat, closing the door behind him. Your eyebrow frowns slightly, confused as to why he was not hoping into the backseat with you. “Aren't you- where are you going?”  Your frown confused why he wasn't hopping over the seat like you. He smiles at you before closing the passenger door; he opens the back seat door, closing it behind him, and climbs in, sitting in the middle seat, getting into the backseat,
 “I ain't as young, and with my bad back and knees. There's no way I’m hopping over the console and crawling into the goddamn back seat like that. My knees are already bad enough.” 
You smile as he sits next to you, forgetting about your age difference, “Guess thats the con of dating an old man, huh.” You joke as he grabs your hips, gently pushes you down on the back seat, and unbuttons your jeans, hovering over you as you lay on your back. 
“Yea, but who's getting in the back seat with said old man and begging this old man to fuck you.” 
You laugh for a bit at his very valid reply. You feel him pull your jeans down and your underwear all at once. You sit with him as he tosses your clothes to the backseat floor. He moves a bit to sit on the seats, pulling you next to him, and his rough hands grab your hips. You feel him rub up your thigh with one and place his index and middle finger on the other hand against your lips. You open your mouth, sucking on them, gazing up at Joel. 
Joel lets out a groan under his breath as he looks at you, “Fuck sweetheart, look so pretty sucking on my fingers.” His praise gets you wetter as he takes his finger out of your mouth and slowly pushes them inside you. He starts off slow but gradually increases his speed as his fingers curl inside you, hitting that spot deep in you. You shudder under his touch, grinding against his fingers. 
“Fuck baby, you’re soaking my fingers.” he drawls out as he continues fucking you with his fingers. You whimper at his words, hearing the sounds of your wetness as his finger fuck deeper into you. You grab onto his bicep to steady yourself, clenching around his fingers as you get closer to your release. Your moans grow louder as you feel his fingers rub against your clit.
“Yes! Yes! Daddy, I’m so close!” You feel the pressure building, your breath gets shakier, and your moans get louder, filling the old truck, until you feel his hand cover your mouth, muffling you’re growing moans. He leans over, hovering over you more, his fingers stopping inside you.
“You need to shut the hell up before you attract a whole hoard of clickers.” His stern tone still turns you on more, his eyes staring into yours intensely. Making sure you understand him, you give him a nod with glossy eyes staring back at him. 
He slowly started moving his finger again, curling up as he reached the spot each time he slid his finger inside you. Your eyes roll back as you move your hips against his fingers. You felt his hand come out of your mouth, and you bit your lip, trying to surprise your moans. You feel you’re self getting closer, your brain getting fuzzy as his fingers move faster.  
“Is this what I have to do every morning, gotta make you cum on my fingers, then you’ll be nice?” He taunts you as you continue moaning. Your lips desperately clash with Joel’s messily making out with him. Joel’s other hand spreads your thighs further as he continues to finger fucking you. 
You nod absentmindedly, leaning your head against his neck as he continues fucking you with his fingers; his thumb rubs your clit and brings you over the edge. Joel knew, too. He knew your body like the back of your hand, even outside of sex. He always knew when you were scared when you were pissed. 
“You’re close, huh I can tell. You wanna cum, sweetheart? You’re gonna cum on daddy’s finger?” He asks softly as he sits beside you, fingers moving deeper inside your dripping cunt. 
You immediately nod, “Yes, daddy, please, please. I’m so close.” Your release slows as his fingers pull out of you. You feel your orgasm fading and your eyes open, looking at him disappointed, watching as he puts his two fingers in his mouth, tasting your wetness. He gives you a slight smirk as she shakes his head. 
“I don’t know. I’m not sure you deserve it, after how you were this morning, all those smart-ass remarks after you asked me to teach you to drive.” He slowly traces his finger over your clit, teasing you as you whine against him.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll be nice!” you apologize frantically, hoping he’ll move his fingers again. Joel smiles before he slips his finger inside your aching pussy accepting your apology, and moves his finger again, the arousal building again. Your moan grows louder as his fingers bring you to your release. He brings his lips to your mouth, sloppily kissing you to quiet your moans. You moan against his lips. 
“As pretty as those moans are, you really gotta keep it down, sweetheart. Once we get back to Jackson, you can be as loud as you want. Okay?” 
You nod, knowing he’s right. You really don't wanna lure a group of infected or clickers with your moans. In this situation, you’d rather not die mid-sex from clickers. you close your eyes, feeling his fingers move faster. He brings his other hand onto your clit, rubbing it slowly.
“I know, I know but-fuck baby, I’m close, I'm so close.” The sounds of your moans and your wetness from your entrance fill the rundown truck as you get closer to your release. 
“Come on baby, atta girl, soak my finger, baby.” He coaxes, his voice guiding you through your orgasm. eye closing as you dissolve into pleasure. you gasp before moaning his name repeatedly. “Joel Joel Joel fuck daddy!” His hand comes over your mouth again to keep your moans quiet. You feel your stomach twist, your wet pussy clenches as you feel your climax. you move, laying your head on his shoulder as his fingers help you ride out your orgasm. 
You feel him remove his fingers from you. you breathe heavily, coming down from your high. Just you open your eyes; Joel puts his dripping fingers in his mouth. You watch desperately as he moans at your taste. He smiles, laughing slightly at how you look at him still recovering but, obviously still wanting him. He leans forward, planting a kiss on your forehead, and looks at you.  
“You better?” you nod silently. “You awake?” you nod again, feeling a bit weaker between your legs than before you had entered the truck. Joel laughs, gently giving you a soft kiss on your lips. “Good, now get back in the driver’s seat and take us home so I can fuck you. ” 
You nod, getting up and hopping back into the front seat. You look back at Joel, watching him get into the passenger seat. He starts the car again, and you start speeding back to Jackson. 
“You know, maybe you should give me an orgasm in the morning every day to wake me up.” you smile, making a joke but also being serious. 
Joel shakes his head at your words, laughing a bit. His hand comes back to your thigh, rubbing it. “Just focus on driving the damn truck first.” 
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tteokdoroki · 1 year
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☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. compression shirts & sweatpants.
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about. hello u guys wanted me to finish this so i did lol !!!! i just can’t get the idea of him in compression shirts out of my mind ok enjoy !! <3
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. suggestive, making out, hickies, dry humping, bakugou being a huge tease, gn!reader, pro hero!bakugou.
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“do you get off on this? dressing like a slut?”
after pushing his bread down into the toaster, bakugou stops mid-sip, his signature red riot coffee mug about a quarter of an inch away from the pink and plush curve of his lips. he looks over to you as if he’s an animal that’s been caught doing something it’s not supposed to. a deer in headlights if you will.
“hah?”
you clench your fists, the foulest pout you can muster spread thinly over your features like a veil, as a petulant huff escapes you. you pretend to be mad at the man for as long as you can, turning your head away from him with your arms crossed over your chest. but you can’t help it. you can’t fight it… your gaze trailing back over to him at a snail’s pace.
katsuki bakugou looks like a fucking god.
not only does the stupid black compression shirt he’s wearing highlight the slender accent of his hips and itty bitty waist — but it clings to every muscle in bakugou’s marble-carved body. you can see every bulge of his biceps and ripple in his backs, even down to his washboard abs. honestly, you count your lucky stars every day that you managed to sink your fangs into the blonde before anyone else did, claiming him as your own. you might have even thrown up if anyone got to see him lounging about the place in grey sweats the way you did, the material just barely sitting on his hips.
you have to swipe at your mouth to stop yourself from drooling when he puts his mug down and lifts an arm up high to put the coffee granules back in the cupboard — his shirt riding up just enough for you to get a good look at a slither if his his sun-kissed, diamond cut v-line and waistband of his boxers too. it’s like the guy is purposefully trying to kill you.
just the very sight of katsuki like this, probably fresh from his work out, has you in a shambles — breaking out into hot sweats, panting like a dog. someone might even think you’re sick.
katsuki pays your little tantrum no mind, crossing his arms and leaning his hip against the kitchen counter while he waits for you to finish.
“you look so good.” you relent eventually, shoulders sagging.
shaking his head in a fond manner, the blonde rolls his ruby framed eyes. “no, you look good.” katsuki coos amusedly, arms opening wide for you as you pad further into the kitchen to snuggle against his chest. although he’s taunting you and you’re playing right into his game, you will always love that katsuki finds little ways to compliment you and make you feel adored — you feel it as he presses the wisps of a kiss into the crown of your head. “you always do.”
“it’s not fair that you get to go around like this! wearing that and making me feel all—!” you wave your hands about eccentrically, a heated frustration burning at your nerve endings as you screech your feelings out.
bakugou smiles to himself, sexy and slow, barely jumping when his toast pops out of the toaster. he grabs it, holds the corner of his food between his rows of pearly white teeth and spins your positions so that he traps you against the kitchen counter. “gonna need some context, babe.” you think that he’s going to touch you but instead reaches behind you to grab at his coffee.
freaking tease.
it’s impossible to think clearly when your boyfriend is this close — his intoxicating musky scent of sweet sweat and cool toned aftershave making you dizzy. “i hate you.” you state indignantly, flopping against his chest and letting it’s plushness muffle your speech patterns. “you’re stupid hot. and a slut.”
“you slut shamin’ me, sweetness?”
“s’what you deserve. dressin’ like you don’t belong to nobody. like you belong to the streets.”
“i belong to you, baby. you know that.” chucking his toast onto the counter, the blonde swoops down to kiss you hungrily — tasting of freshly brewed coffee grounds and salt. of course he would get off to something like this. he’s got you right where he wants you, weak in the knees and melting in his arms.
you screw your eyes shut, squirming in place as bakugou steps back and guides your hand under his tight fitting compression shirt, overloading your brain with just how built he is. fleshy pecks and golden abs. he ends up keeping it rolled up so you feel hot all over. “i can get undressed if it makes ya feel better.”
you can’t help that your eyes drop back down to his cotton grey sweats — they’ve slipped a little lower, low enough for his sharp v-line and soft blonde curls from his happy trail to peek out from the waistband. if you squinted (not that you would need to) you could make out the outline of his semi as it brushes against your inner thighs.
this is it. this is the end. “it makes me feel worse actually. like i might die of thirst or something. especially if you don’t—“
“if i don’, what?” his hands are all over you now, splayed over your tummy, digging into your waist — he overwhelms you. pressing his body against yours until you practically feel him through your pores. bakugou is hot (physically, sure) but against you, your desire for him spreads like a heatwave through every inch of your body — from the tips of your fingers and toes to the top of your head.
“kiss me.” you breathe, a neediness seeded into your tone.
bakugou arches a blonde eyebrow, looking down at you cockily. “c’mere then, brat.”
he uses a finger and thumb to tilt your chin up towards him, leaning down to kiss you before tricking you with a fake out. just as you begin to whinge and complain, the blonde squishes your cheeks so you can’t wriggle away from him and licks into your mouth with a teasing laugh. he only kisses you fully when you grasp at his slender waist, feel him up from under his clothes and slip your hands over his ass — just bellow the waistband of his sweats.
“fuckin’ tease,” katsuki grunts, tugging on your lower lip with his teeth and sucking in your tongue.
a free hand wanders from his bottom, climbs up the rippling muscles of his back and tangles in bakugou’s sandy roots — fisting then as you drag him closer, working your tongue into his hot and welcoming mouth. “takes one to know one, kats,” you mewl into him, letting him swallow your satisfied gasps and squeaks.
every action, every groan and grope becomes rougher, needier, hornier — squeezing each other turns to grinding on one another until there’s no room for either of you to breathe and just as you move to shove your hand down the front of his boxers, everything comes to a halt.
you knock bakugou’s coffee over when he lifts you onto the counter.
“ow! hot!” you squeal, still tilting your head back to make room for the blonde at your neck.
he doesn’t stop, nipping at your skin. “yeah, so you’ve said babe.”
“not you, dummy!” swatting at your boyfriend, you push him off. “the fucking coffee on my ass!”
katsuki blinks, his lashes fluttering against the column of your throat while be peeks over your shoulder at the beverage spilling across the counter and seeping into your clothes.
“that’s what you get for callin’ me a slut.”
“oh…oh fuck you.”
“‘m trying babe.”
“fuck you. slut.”
“keep degrading me sweetness, ‘m kinda into that.”
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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daemour · 8 months
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I Can See You
Pairing: single dad! Seonghwa x babysitter! f! yn
Word Count: 10,137
Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, a creepy old man in one scene, age gap (10 years but both are adults (and not just barely)), smut warnings under cut
Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, single parent au, M for mature audiences
Summary: When you took a job babysitting a young toddler, you didn't expect to be so drawn to the family. And more specifically, her frustratingly hot and single dad.
Smut Warnings: masturbation, sexual fantasies, riding, slight (if you squint) corruption kink, sliGHT breeding kink, unprotected sex (DONT DO THIS unless you discuss safely outside of sex!), breast play, overstimulation, undiscussed kinks (yn is fine with it. but discuss your fucking kinks guys *gun emoji*), slight cumplay
thank u to @pyeonghongrie and @mingsolo for beta'ing and for the title hehe <3 this is also a collab with @potatomountain who is also writing a dilf hwa (Bittersweet Neighbours), we're just on two sides of the spectrum lol...and this is so damn long
-
“Hello, I’m here for a babysitter interview with a Mr Park?”
“That would be me. Miss (Y/N)?”
When you answered the ad in the newspaper about babysitting, you were so ready to see an older man, around his fifties. But this man looked so young, around his late twenties although you’re sure he’s probably forty. And you’re not one to judge—nearing your mid-twenties one wouldn’t be expecting you to still babysit as a full-time job. But it pays the bills and helps you get some hands-on experience in your degree, child development.
“Ah, yes. That’s me,” your words spill out as you realise he is awaiting an answer. Mentally, you berate yourself for the immediate blunder while Mr Park’s eyes crinkle with amusement.
“Come on in and make yourself comfy on the couch. I’ll be right there. Would you like anything to drink?” Mr Park’s voice is smooth like butter and you have a hard time making sure you don’t get lost in it.
Again, you nod, actual wordy responses jumbled in your brain, walking to the couch and sitting down almost mechanically. If you were mentally present, you would have noticed the smile the older man sends your way.
He doesn’t take too long, returning with two glasses of water. “You didn’t say what you wanted to drink so I just got you water. Is that okay?”
Thankfully, you finally can respond coherently and smile, albeit a little shakily. “Yes, thank you so much.”
You take the glass with both hands, thanking him again quietly and taking a small sip before just holding it as you wait for him to be seated. You’ve felt awkward before, but this is a new extreme. Normally you pride yourself on keeping your cool in front of someone you think is hot, but Mr Park…he’s something else. You try your best to keep your eyes trained on the coffee table, only letting yourself glance at him occasionally so he doesn’t realise just how in awe you are.
“Jihee will be home from school soon, so you’ll see her soon. For now it’ll just be old me and my questions,” Mr Park starts his interview as soon as he sits on the couch across from you. “Now, I saw in your application that your major was in child development? Can I ask why that interested you?”
You blink at him for a moment, not expecting that question. Sure, bringing it up was expected, but the way he sounds like he’s interviewing you for a position in a company amuses you. “Uh…I just grew up with a lot of siblings and their kids. I’m the youngest of six, and the oldest is sixteen years older than me so I have a lot of nieces and nephews as well. Children have always been a part of my life, and my first job was babysitting so it’s something I’m very used to. Child development was just a way for me to learn even more and in a less… hands-on way. Poopy diapers are not my favourite.” You pause. “Not that I can’t change them! Or that Jihee uses them. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”
You’re so sure your face is bright red right now as you stumble over your words, and you’re ready to be kicked out, but all Mr Park does instead is laugh at your embarrassment. It’s a little mean but it’s better than your worst conclusion so you’ll take it. “It’s okay,” Mr Park smiles at you. “It’s okay to ramble, it was actually quite amusing. Now, I’d just like to warn you, Jihee has trouble with working on schoolwork. While that usually isn’t an issue, she may be asking you to help her with her homework and reading and I just thought I’d give you a heads up. Would that cause any trouble?”
“It wouldn’t bother me, and I’ll try my best. I took children’s education in college as well so it’d be a good time for me to exercise that,” you laugh quietly. Your first dream was to be a governess, no matter how few jobs there are for that type of work.
Mr Park nods thoughtfully. “Glad to give you some experience in that,” he hums after careful consideration, a smile on his face. “Her struggles lie in understanding the problems and in English. If she faces any difficulty then I can always help out.”
Before either of you continues speaking, his watch beeps and he glances down. Without another word, he stands and goes to open the front door. “Uh–” Your confusion escapes you before you can stop it.
“Oh, Jihee’s almost home and I always leave the door open for her,” he explains, eyes still trained on his watch. “You’ll get to meet her, and then we can discuss more details. And just to reiterate the ad, this is going to be a job that requires a lot of hours. I, of course, will be paying you for any sort of overtime if I need to stay at the office later. Does your schedule still allow for that?”
You hold back your smile. Your schedule mostly consists of scrolling the internet for job opportunities and eating lunch with your friends. “Yes, I can do that,” you affirm. “I’ll need holidays off, but I assume that’s a given as you’ll also be with Jihee?”
A smile pulls at the corner of Mr Park’s mouth. “Very astute,” he chuckles. “Now, here she comes.”
The door swings open without another word from either of you and a little girl dressed in pink and ribbons barrels into Mr Park’s knees. He lets out a quiet grunt, stabilising himself against the door as his hand strokes at her hair. “Hello, Jihee,” he hums fondly. "How was school today?"
The young girl beams up at her father. "So fun!" she grins, her words slightly slurred in her excitement. "Today, Mrs Lee had us do shapes and my favourite colour is blue now! I have so many blue crayons."
Mr Park's eyebrow raises at the mention of crayons. "Do you have them with you?" he asks, and Jihee nods vigorously. "Can I see them?"
Another nod comes from the child and she immediately plops on the floor, pulling out her pencil case and opening it to reveal at least ten crayons, all of varying sizes. What stands out to you the most is that half of them are green. "See! All blue. But this one's my favourite." She grabs at a particularly long and skinny one, a shade of emerald green.
"Ah. Lovey, remember, your colours are a little different, right?" Mr Park talks in a gentle voice, very different from the very adult voice he used with you. "That's a green crayon."
Jihee's face drops. "Oh." Her bottom lip juts out in a pout.
Mr Park holds out his hand and Jihee drops the crayon into his palm. "You can't take the crayons from school anyway, dear. Why don't we leave these in your bag and you can give them back and apologise to Mrs Lee tomorrow?"
Jihee's pout grows bigger but she nods. "Okay, daddy," she agrees and Mr Park nods proudly.
"Now, do you want to meet your new friend?" You flinch as Mr Park mentions you, sitting up straighter in your chair before ultimately deciding to stand instead.
"Hi, Jihee," you do your best to speak with the same quiet tone Mr Park used. "I'm (Y/N)! It's nice to meet you."
You offer your hand for her to shake and Jihee looks at you, her thinking face almost a spitting image of her father's before she walks over and takes your hand with gusto. "Hi, Mrs (Y/N).”
"Ah, I'm not a Mrs," you correct her. "You can call me (Y/N)."
"Miss (Y/N)," Mr Park quietly interrupts and you nod, not wanting to override his parenting although being called 'miss' will catch you off-guard for the time being. "Why don't you tell her one thing about yourself and then Miss (Y/N) has to go, okay?"
Jihee's mouth twists in sadness, her hand still gripping yours. "Okay," she sighs again. "I get to talk to her more later though, right?"
Mr Park nods. "Of course. Miss (Y/N) will be spending a lot of time with you, so I'm glad you like her."
Jihee nods solemnly. "I like pretty people and you're super pretty," she tells you earnestly and your heart swells at the compliment.
“Thank you, Jihee,” you thank her genuinely, although you’re amused at the fact that she considers her appreciation for physical looks a good introduction to herself. “It was nice to meet you.”
With another decisive nod, Jihee turns and marches right off down the hall, presumably to her room. Mr Park turns to you, finally shutting his front door with a sigh. “That was Jihee. Ball of energy extraordinaire. She comes home from school at one-thirty, and will put her own things away before coming to eat a snack. She has one worksheet to do a day but with your help she’ll get it fairy quickly. I’ll email you a list of house rules.”
You nod. “That sounds perfect. What would the schedule look like? What time would I be here, and when would I expect you to come home?”
Mr Park hums, running a hand through his perfect hair. “For her school days, I’d like to have you in here maybe ten minutes before she comes. I’ll always leave her snack in the fridge and you can just pop it in the microwave and make yourself comfortable before she comes barrelling in. Then I’ll be home at five-thirty sharp whenever possible. Every other Saturday I’m in the office for eight hours and you’ll be watching Jihee for those days. If you can’t do a Saturday, just let me know so I can get someone to watch her, but generally I’d like you here from eight to five.”
You nod. All your friends have atypical work schedules so your Saturdays are empty in general, and since the weekdays are shorter hours you don’t mind. “When it comes to after-school playdates, should I expect you to be home or would you like me to take care of them?”
Mr Park’s lips tighten almost imperceptibly. “That won’t be an issue. Jihee doesn’t do playdates.” Your curiosity spikes at his short answer but his tone leaves no room for discussion so you don’t press it. “I’ll give you a key now. Tomorrow is my off-Saturday but if you can come in just to adjust yourself that would be great. I have some work to get done anyway so I’ll be mostly out of your hair although you can still ask me questions.”
You nod again. “Yeah, that works,” you confirm after a quick check to your phone calendar. When you look up, Mr Park is already holding out a key and you take it after a moment’s hesitation. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
Mr Park nods, moving to open the door when Jihee calls out with a whining tone to her voice. “Daddy, I need help!”
Mr Park sighs but it’s full of affection for his daughter. “I would walk you to your car but she calls for me,” his head dips into an apologetic bow but you shake your head.
“Don’t worry about it,” you smile at him. “There’s no need for that at all.” That is one of the main reasons, but another part of you doesn’t want him to know you have no car and you take the bus to his neighbourhood and then walk the rest of the way.
A twenty-four-year-old with no car? It’s a little embarrassing, especially in the area you both live in where it’s almost required to have a car to do anything. Generally, your babysitting jobs were close enough to your home, but the salary of this job enticed you to give up walking.
As you exit, you can hear Jihee starting off her complaints about her jacket and you smile to yourself subconsciously.
-
You’ve been working with the Parks for almost a month now and generally, it’s a good time. You only really see Mr Park when he comes home, but by then you have one foot out the door. There are days when he looks so beaten down that you want to offer him some encouragement, but you don’t want to step out of your boundaries. So, you just keep your head down and leave.
Jihee is sweet and easy-going, not hard for you to get along with. She always has some sort of fun idea for you to play along with and her schoolwork hasn’t been too terrible although you dread when she starts getting into more difficult maths.
But today, as soon as Jihee walks into the door, you suspect something is wrong. She doesn’t greet you as excitedly as she used to, just stalking straight into her bedroom and coming right now, settling herself down on the couch with a pout on her face.
“Jihee, don’t you want to eat?” you try to coax her to the dinner table, but she just shakes her head, immobile. You frown. It’s strange for the usually talkative child to be this closed off. “Did something happen at school?”
Jihee glares at the coffee table, shaking her head. “No,” she mutters but her cold-stone facade drops immediately as she suddenly bursts into tears. Your heart drops for the child crying on your couch and you immediately run to her and pull her into your arms. “Why don’t they like me?” she wails into your shirt and your heart drops.
You had suspected it when Mr Park shut down the playdate idea very quickly, but this just solidifies your thoughts. How could the kids at school not like such a sweet kid? As you’ve been working for the Parks for quite a bit now, you’ve grown to adore the young girl like she was one of your own nieces.
You don’t say anything just yet, just patting her hair and doing your best to calm her down. It takes almost an hour but now she just curls up in your arms, her hands gripping your shirt as she’s so close to falling asleep. You don’t have the heart to wake up so you resign yourself to letting her sleep on you for now.
Within ten minutes, you fall asleep as well. It’s not what you meant to do, but you couldn’t have stopped yourself. When your eyes open again, Jihee is no longer in your arms and there’s a large fluffy blanket laid on top of you. You blink yourself awake before panic sets in and you shoot up, looking around. “Jihee?” you call out and hear deep laughter behind you. When your head snaps back you see Mr Park chuckling at your face.
“Welcome back to the land of the living, Miss (Y/N).”
It takes a minute for your words to register, blinking stupidly at your employer for a few moments before your face drops and you practically leap off the couch. “I’m so sorry!” you cry, bowing rapidly at a low angle. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep and it won’t happen again.”
You keep your eyes lowered and you look up at him through your lashes, scared of how he’ll react but to your surprise, Mr Park’s smile grows and he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, you looked comfortable and the doors were locked. Jihee didn’t get into any trouble, just was a little bored since you were asleep.”
You shake your head. “Regardless, I shouldn’t sleep on the job but thank you for the kindness. Jihee is very responsible for her age and it certainly reflects on your parenting.” You smile back at him.
“Well, thank you for your kind words. It means a lot to me as well,” Mr Park hums. “Would you like to join us for dinner? I know you usually leave around the time I get back but let me at least feed you before you go.”
You frown. “I’d like to, but I should get going,” you say absentmindedly. “I have to make it in time to catch the bus.”
You’re looking around, trying to gather your belongings, when you realise how silent Mr Park is. And in turn, you realise what you just said. “You take the bus?” His voice lowers and you stare at the look of concern he has on his face. “It’s practically dark by the time you leave and you’re walking to the bus stop by yourself?”
“Ah– it’s okay! It’s not a far walk, just up the street.” You hurry to defend your choices, waving your hands. “I’ve gotten home safe so far, no?”
Mr Park shakes his head. “No, you can’t take chances. I’ll drive you home tonight after dinner. You must stay.”
You stare up at him with wide eyes, but his stance is unwavering. And as much as you would usually protest—being taken home by a much older man would usually ring alarms in your head—the idea of not having to wait in the cold and the dark by yourself is very appealing. And from how you’ve interacted with him before, Mr Park seems very sweet, and you trust him just a little more than you probably should.
“Well, I do thank you for your kindness,” you sigh, nodding your head in concession. “But this will be the only time.”
Mr Park chuckles, not taking you seriously. “We’ll see. Now come on. Tonight is beef stew and my younger brother will come for dinner as well.”
“Uncle Uyu is coming?” You can hear Jihee’s excited voice coming from the kitchen as well as her feet pittering on the floor as she launches herself into your lap. “Hi again, Miss (Y/N).”
“Hello again, Miss Jihee,” you tease, pressing the tip of your finger to her forehead and Jihee giggles.
“Are you staying for dinner?” You nod again and she screeches in happiness, not giving a second glance at how you wince at the sound. “I can’t wait! I have to make you pretty! Come with me.”
With as much seriousness as she can muster in her body, she pulls you by the hand into her room as Mr Park watches the two of you with a soft smile and follows the two of you into Jihee’s room. He takes a seat on the bed as Jihee fusses over your hair, styling it with her toddler's hands and putting an obscene amount of hair clips into it. But you’re whipped for the little girl and you let her do whatever she wants, ending up in two uneven pigtails and a plethora of Hello Kitty clips.
“Daddy, isn’t it pretty?” Jihee giggles, moving your head to tilt so her father can take a look at her work. “It’s better than your hair to practice!”
Mr Park, mock-affronted, holds his hand to his chest. “Betrayed by my own daughter? Alas, but I can let it slide as this may very well be your best work.”
Jihee giggles, pressing her face against your cheek when the doorbell rings. “Uncle Uyu!” As always, her focus is diverted by any new thing and she runs for the door, both you and Mr Park following shortly after. As she yanks the door open, a man around Seonghwa’s age greets her just as excitedly, bending down to pick her up and spin her around.
“Jiji,” he cheers, “Already so big?” His eyes find you and you offer a small wave. “And who’s this? Seonghwa, you found a girl?”
Mr Park’s jaw drops and your eyes widen as you rush to contradict. “Oh, no, no, I’m just the babysitter. Mr Park has kindly invited me for dinner.”
Wooyoung chuckles at the look on both your faces. “Don’t worry, I just like to pull on Seonghwa’s leg. You’re a little young for him too.”
You offer a smile. “Yeah, and the forties are a little out of my age range as well,” you try to joke, but to your surprise, Wooyoung breaks out cackling, startling Jihee who starts laughing with him confusedly. Mr Park’s shocked face has somehow become even more intense.
“You think I’m how old?” Wooyoung has reigned in his laughter although a smile still pulls at his lips. “I’m only thirty-four!”
A gasp made its way out of your mouth as you start bowing rapidly again in apology. “I’m so sorry! You look your age, I just assumed you had to be older.”
Mr Park sighs, although an amused smile now graces his face. “It’s okay, I can understand it. I’ll just be giving you a hard time from now on.” He punctuates with a wink and your eyes snap down to Jihee in embarrassment.
“Let’s get on with dinner so I can go home and just melt in embarrassment, okay?” you groan and the two older men laugh. Jihee seems to agree with your sentiment, declaring her hunger grumpily and you laugh and pick her up. “See, even Jihee’s on my side. Let’s eat now.”
Mr Park hums, stepping aside. “All right, I see I’m outnumbered now. I hope you don’t mind how casual this dinner is, but I promise the food is worth it. Wooyoung’s the better cook, but he’s taught me a few tricks.”
You shrug. “Any food is good food to me. At home, I have instant ramen and fried rice so it’s a nice change.”
Out of disapproval, Mr Park shakes his head although the smile does not leave his face. “I do not miss my college diet. Please, take a seat.” He motions to the dinner table, pulling out a chair for you to seat yourself, sitting beside you as Wooyoung and Jihee join the other side of the table.
“So, tell me about yourself (Y/N),” Wooyoung hums, leaning on the table by his elbows. “You’re in college?”
You shake your head. “I graduated a year and a half ago, I’m twenty-four now, but it feels like just yesterday I was taking my finals,” you chuckle. “What was your major, Mr Wooyoung?”
Wooyoung smiled, “Please, call me Wooyoung. Mr Wooyoung just sounds weird. But to answer your question, my major was culinary, of course. Before I taught Hwa how to cook, he was hopeless. I think I was feeding him and Jihee primarily other than his sandwiches and canned soup.” He sighs, leaning back and smirking at Mr Park whose ears are red.
“Hey, Youngah, I paid you for your work. Don’t make me seem incompetent,” Mr Park snorts, leaning over to smack the back of his neck. “Wooyoung may be eight years younger than me but he certainly acts like he’s five.”
You laugh at the banter. “Me and my siblings were the same way. We’d always fight but in the end, we care for each other. It’s sweet to see you guys act the same.” You smile, taking a bite of your stew. “Thank you for letting me sit in on your family dinner.”
Mr Park shakes his head. “Of course. Can’t let you walk on your own at night, you know. I’d be happy to give you a ride home from now on.”
“Ah, no, I can’t make you do that,” you try and decline again but Seonghwa is having none of that.
“It’s not a matter of making me, I offered. I can’t let my babysitter just stand around in the dark. Let me do this for you. Jihee cares for you, she wouldn’t want to make you get hurt.”
You frown, pursing your lips. “I suppose I can’t argue with that,” you concede. “Thank you once again.”
Mr Park shakes his head, his hand moving up to ruffle your hair. “Don’t worry about it.” His hand rests atop your head a moment longer before he remembers who he is in relation to you. “Ah, sorry. Habit from Jihee.”
The heartfelt moment is cut loose by everyone amused at Mr Park’s habit. Jihee immediately takes the initiative to start rambling about stickers, engrossing everyone in the conversation, Wooyoung being particularly vocal. The dinner is finished with no other events, and you offer to help clean up, ignoring Mr Park when he tries to protest.
“Thank you for helping out,” he tries to thank you but you wave your hand dismissively.
“You fed me and are driving me home. It’s the least I could do. Shall we head out though? I don’t want you to have to leave Jihee for too long.”
Mr Park nods, grabbing his keys and jangling them as he opens the door to the garage. You do your best to not show your surprise at the sight of his fancy car. Of course, you knew he was well off, but you never imagined you’d actually be sitting in his car. He even opens the door for you, letting you slide into the passenger seat.
You hold yourself stiffly, but Mr Park looks over and just laughs at you. “Relax, I’m not going to bite you. Just let me know where to go and we’ll be set. Want a piece of gum?”
He holds out a pack of gum and you gladly take the piece, happy for the distraction. Most of the car ride is silent, except for you telling him occasionally where to go. But as he pulls up to your street, he slows to a crawl.
“You know, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around.me. Sure, I’m your employer, but I’m also a dad. I got the dad instinct, you know?” Your lips twitch at his attempt to be comforting. “Really, though. Don’t hold yourself so tight around me. I don’t mind doing this for you.”
You turn your eyes down. “Thank you. I’ll try, it’s just a little weird for me if you understand. But I do appreciate everything you’re doing for me.” As you unbuckle your seatbelt, you smile at Mr Park. “I hope you have a good night.”
As you go to your apartment building, Mr Park leans out of his car and calls after you. “You can call me Seonghwa, (Y/N). Mr Park makes me feel old.”
You laugh at his admission. “We’ll see, grandpa!” You can’t help but tease him before running into your home, leaving an amused Seonghwa outside.
-
These days you and Seonghwa have become a lot more friendly. He’s taken to driving you home despite your protests and during the car rides, some interesting conversations have happened. For example, you learnt that he built his company from the ground and yet is respected in many old money circles.
Okay, maybe you didn’t learn that from a conversation, and instead just searched on the internet. But what can you say? You’re curious about the man who happens to be your charge’s father and the man who happens to be very very handsome.
Maybe you have a bit of a crush on Seonghwa, but you couldn’t blame yourself. There was something about him. It is the aura he holds himself with, the kindness in his smile when he arrives home, and it helps that he is hot. Every so often, you can’t help but find yourself glancing at his pretty hands, or his well-toned arms, and you have to look away before heat spreads up to your ears.
You’re down bad, and it’s not getting any better. Every time you see Seonghwa, you want to jump him but it would be inappropriate. Not only is he your employer, but he’s also a decade older than you. There’s no way he would be interested in you, he probably sees you just as some kid.
With a sigh, you look down at your sketchbook. Today was supposed to be a fun day. Both Jihee and Seonghwa were off today, so you were spending the day with her as Seonghwa was still called into the office to put in some extra hours. But then the toddler fell sick and you were tasked with taking care of her.
At least it was a fairly easy job—Jihee slept most of the day and you were free to work on some of your more personal projects. Although your passion lies in children, you do enjoy drawing and even took a couple of classes in college. As you lay on the couch sketching, you get so lost in your mind you don’t even register the door opening and the footsteps coming towards you.
“Is that me?”
A shriek rips its way out of your throat as you do your best to whirl around and hold your drawings to your chest, but your legs get caught in the blanket and you instead fall half off the couch to the ground. Your chin props your head up on the ground but your legs are still tangled on the couch, your arms twisted into the blanket, the sketchbook an arm’s reach away.
“Hi, Mr– Seonghwa. How was work today?” you mumble half into the carpet, too embarrassed to look up. “Jihee’s taking a nap in her room.”
After a moment of silence, Seonghwa laughs, although it’s a little pained. “Uh. Do you need help up?”
You groan, pulling one of your arms out from your cocoon prison. “That would be great, thanks. Sorry.”
One of his cool hands gently takes your elbow as another comes to rest on your back. It’s at the moment you realise your shirt has ridden up. You can’t help but tense at the touch, hoping the embarrassment doesn’t show on your face. “Jihee’s taking a nap?”
You’re grateful he chose to brush over the incident. “Yeah– yeah. She’s not much better, but she’s not much worse. It’s just a simple cold, so she needs to sleep it off.” You chose to ignore the hand lingering on the small of your back, instead scooching back on your butt to distance yourself just a little bit. He’s your employer, there’s no way you can give in to your feelings.
But the couch seems to be against your plans, as when you try to pull the blankets off your feet you tumble into Seonghwa’s legs, knocking him down as you land on his firm chest. Your face is mere centimetres away from his and you freeze. “I–” you stammer out, Seonghwa equally as awkward.
“Sorry–” He tries to sit up, but it just results in the blankets twisting tighter and pulling you two even closer together. You swear if you could hold your breath, you could feel and hear his heart beating. “Ah, shit.”
You can’t help but laugh a little at his profanity, not something you’ve ever expected to hear from him. “Welcome back, Seonghwa.”
Seognhwa’s eyes widen, his blush deepens, and his head snaps away from you. Your brows furrow at the change in his features and you can’t help but wonder if it’s from the proximity, or if it’s the proximity to you specifically. “Ah. Let’s get out of this, shall we?” he coughs. He carefully detangles himself from the pile and holds out a hand to you.
You grasp it, noting his firm grip and letting him pull you up. “Thanks.”
“I’ll drive you back to your apartment first since Jihee’s asleep right now. It won’t take long.” While Seonghwa’s voice remains warm, his eyes move away from you.
Suddenly a guilty feeling pools in your stomach and you turn away as well, bending to pick up your sketchbook silently. “Of course.” The disappointment fills your head as you internally admonish yourself for even trying to entertain your fantasies of the older man.
But, to your surprise, a warm hand pats you on your shoulder. “You are good at art, (Y/N). You should continue to pursue and practice it, even as just a hobby.” His words make you look up into his eyes and you see a sparkle behind them. “You’re a talented person, and you should take advantage of it.”
“Thank you, Seonghwa,” you smile at him again. “Once again, I appreciate the kindness you offer me.”
Seonghwa chuckles, spinning the car keys as you’ve quickly found out is his habit. “(Y/N), thank you for putting up with such an old man who can offer you nothing but kindness.”
You snort. “You’re not even that old, you geezer.” In retaliation, Seonghwa leans over and pokes you in the forehead.
“Oh, hush and let me take you home.”
-
It’s been almost six months since that day and your feelings have only intensified. But this time, you swear perhaps he may be returning your feelings too. Sometimes you catch him looking at you with a gentle smile, and his hand on your shoulder lingers a little longer than you think. But then he talks to an employee on the phone and you remember how accomplished he is. Even if he wasn’t much older than you, there’s no way you would fit into his lifestyle.
And, like any self-respecting person would do, you start to avoid him. What else are you going to do? Tell him? You’d be crazy to even entertain the thought. There’s no way he would even take you seriously.
These days you’ve just been going to work, and heading straight home. Seonghwa barely has time to catch you, and you’ve been plotting with Jihee to keep him away. She doesn’t quite understand why, but it’s fun to her so she’s happy to. You’re pretty sure half your wallet has gone to sticker sheets. But no matter how many stickers you’ve bought, it doesn’t help Seonghwa from figuring out something is amiss.
It’s your one day off and you’re spending it at home, lounging around and just watching movies while you sulk about your tangled feelings. Watching all these romantic movies doesn’t help at all and you groan. There’s no way you’re going to act like a lonely teenager, you declare to yourself. You’ll go to a club! Maybe meet someone closer to your age and you won’t feel like a wet sock anymore.
That’s it, you’ve convinced yourself. You’ll give yourself a night out. Suddenly inspired, you throw off the blankets covering you and start donning your nicest clothes. There’s a club you used to frequent in your college days, and you haven’t been back since you got the new job. It’d be nice to let loose again.
As the nighttime approaches, you’re almost all ready to go. You have your outfit and your makeup, and all you need is your shoes. Once you pick out your favourite pair of heels (comfy and not too high), you make your way down. You can feel the excitement pounding out of your chest and you can’t wait to get the night started.
As you enter the club, your body immediately relaxes as you take in the atmosphere. It’s been so long, you’re just excited to have fun. Get drunk, find a nice guy, and forget your problems. You down drink after drink, hyping yourself up, but as late night comes, nothing happens. With a sigh, you plunk down your last drink, feeling the buzz of the alcohol burn in your veins.
Nothing will happen tonight, and you just have to come to terms with it. You place down a couple of bills to pay off your tab, tip, and stumble out of the bar. You’re plastered. You can hardly walk in a straight line and you lean against the cool brick for a minute, letting the sensation sober you up a bit as you do your best to call up a taxi.
But before you can do so, a hand creeps onto your bare waist and your head snaps up to see a man, no younger than fifty, leering at you. “Uh, hi?” you slur out, your hands fiddling with your phone as you try and discreetly move to the phone app. You may be plastered, but you’re not a fool and you know what could happen in this situation.
Unfortunately, the old man seems to know what you’re trying and he grabs one of your wrists. “Now, pretty lady, take a break there. Why don’t you come hang out with me for a bit?” His words are greasy and slimy, and you almost gag at the idea of what he’s insinuating. At least Seonghwa isn’t triple your age…and he’s hot.
“Ah, no thanks,” you manage to push past him, pressing your most recent contact and holding the phone to your ear. “I’m a little uh…” You’re cut off when whoever you call starts speaking.
“(Y/N)? Why are you calling me? It’s nine.” Seonghwa’s voice crackles through the receiver. “Are you okay?”
“Ah, shit,” you groan, stumbling to your side and colliding with the wall. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you. I’m just out and–”
Once again, the old man approaches you and pulls you back by the waist. “Come on, pretty. Get off the phone and pay attention to me.”
You shake your head and pull away again, moving even more down the street. “No, no, I’m not– just leave me alone. I want to go home,” you say, shaking your head, still holding the phone to your face. “Just…I wanna go home.”
“(Y/N), are you okay? Where are you?” You can hear the worry in Seonghwa’s voice rise and a faint jingling of keys. “I’m going to get you. Wooyoung’s here so he can watch Jihee. Talk to me, (Y/N).”
“I’m at the club Desire. Or near it. I don’t know.” Your head is muddled and no matter where you look, the street signs are blurring and the old man is still trying to get your attention. “I just want to go home,” you repeat, tears springing to your eyes. “I thought I told you to leave me alone!”
The old man growls at your tone, grabbing at you again. “Don’t be stupid, child. You can come home with me and I’ll teach you how to be proper for a man like you.” His breath reeks of alcohol and bad breath and you instinctively slap him across the face. Surprised, he jerks back, and you take a couple of shaky steps back again.
“Leave me be! I don’t want you near me.”
The old man’s eyes narrow at you and he takes one menacing step forward, his hand raising to strike you but you bring up your arms to block the slap, whimpering in pain when the hit lands and your phone clatters out of your hand. “You insolent child!” Your eyes squeeze shut and you hope Seonghwa gets there soon.
-
Seonghwa has never driven so fast in his life. He’s racing through the lights and he counts his lucky stars that they’re all green and that the police aren’t around right now. He can hear arguing coming from his phone and he’s calm enough knowing you’re at least still on the phone. But then he hears a noise and what he assumes to be your phone falling on the ground. “Fuck,” he mutters to himself. “Please, please be okay, (Y/N).”
Stepping on the gas, he roars around the corner to the club you mentioned, praying you’re still there. As he gets out, he’s looking around but can’t seem to find you. “(Y/N)?” he calls out. “Where are you?”
He races down the street to find you pinned against the wall, your hands attempting to push an old geezer away and he sees red. He marches right up, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from your shaking figure. “Fuck off,” he growls in his face, delighting in the fear that moves across his face. “Don’t let me catch you near this place again. Now fuck off!”
He practically throws the old man to his knees before turning and cupping your face. “Seonghwa,” you practically sob. He can still see the drunken haze in your eyes but it’s almost completely cleared up now and his brow furrows even more.
“Come on, I’m taking you home.” He pulls you along and you do your best to keep up with him in your inebriated state. “I can’t believe you would do this! Have you no sense of security? Why didn’t you get anyone to come with you? Why would you call a taxi outside of the establishment?”
He still opens the car door for you and you slide immediately in, eyes staring wide at the pristine dashboard. He slides in and puts the car in the ignition before sitting back and groaning in frustration. “I hope you’re ready to talk as soon as we get inside,” he gripes. “I still am so shocked, (Y/N). You act so mature about Jihee, but what happened then? You could’ve been hurt…no, you were hurt!”
He continues his rant driving up to your street, ushering you into the elevator and into your place. “Do you know how my heart dropped when I saw you struggling? I don’t want to see you hurt. You need to take care of yourself.”
As he yells at you, his eyes rake over you to see if you’re injured any further, but something else stops him and the words die in his throat. You’re wearing a sheer shirt, your lacy bra underneath just showing off your chest. Your leather skirt has ridden up your thighs and your eyes fill with unshed tears. And something burns in his brain.
It’s been months since he hired you, and with each passing day, he finds himself more and more attracted to you. He berated himself every time these unwanted thoughts popped into his head. Sure, you’re sweet, good with kids, and are passionate about what you care about. But you’re also so young. You can do so much better than him, a single father with no prospects.
But seeing you like this, heat sparks in his gut and he leans in, his face mere inches away from yours. “When you wear things like that, it makes me want to rip them off you and do things even that creep couldn’t even imagine,” his low voice pierces through your thoughts and your mouth gapes open.
“I’m okay with that,” you whisper, hand reaching out to brush against his chest, but Seonghwa blinks as he realises what he just tried to do, and he jerks back. Your eyes flash with hurt and Seonghwa would like to hit himself for doing that to you but he can’t let you come onto him when you’re still drunk.
“I– I’m sorry,” you whisper, your hands reaching behind you to steady yourself on the wall. “I just felt so lonely. I wanted to be wanted.” 
Seonghwa’s breath stutters as he stares down into your wavering eyes. “I–” He wants you so bad. But he can’t bring himself to say it. Not when you’re drunk. “Go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”
He turns away and hears your disappointed sigh alongside your footsteps trudging to your bedroom. With a groan, he sits on the couch with his head in his hands. He wants to reassure you, but he can’t help but feel guilty about it. But he’s still straining in his pants and after locating your bathroom, he sits on the shower bench, leaning against the cool tile and breathing in and out. With a groan, he unzips his pants and pulls out his half-hard cock. The feeling of regret rises but he pushes it down to his gut as he spits in his hand and presses his thumb against the head of his dick.
As he wraps his hand around his cock and pumps it, he can’t help but close his eyes and imagine you. You with your mouth wrapped around his cock, with your hands gripping his thighs. You seated on his throbbing member, grinding your hips against him as you lean down to kiss him. He can feel his dick jump and he wonders what it’ll feel like to fill you with his cum.
He lets out a broken moan as his grip turns tighter. His image of you would scratch your nails down his back. He can almost hear your little whines and breathy moans as your hips work over him. You’d lean in and whisper into his mouth, “Seonghwa, fuck me hard,” and—
Seonghwa sighs as he looks down at his cum-coated hand and the mix of shame and relief swirling around his brain. Maybe he should just go to sleep on the couch and hope he doesn’t dream of you. As he washes his hand and goes to lie down, he can already feel a stress headache coming on. He hopes you’ll at least fare better in the morning.
-
When you awaken, you have a throbbing pain in your head and you groan and roll out of bed. You’ve taken your club shirt off as well as your skirt, but your bra and underpants are still on. You’re sure your makeup is smudged too and you have no clue how you got home but all you want is some coffee and oatmeal.
You trudge to the kitchen, rubbing your eyes from sleep. There’s a blanket fallen on the floor so you toss it onto the couch and head straight into the kitchen to start your coffee maker. As you lean against the counter and yawn.
“(Y/N), are you feeling better?”
A voice calls out from behind you and you shriek, whirling around to see a sleepy Seonghwa, blanket wrapped around him and his hair a mess. You shriek again, realising how little you’re clothed and duck behind the counter, your cheeks flaming and your heart beating faster than you ever thought it could.
“What are you doing here?” you force out, your voice tight.
“Do…do you not remember last night at all?” You do remember most of what happened. He took you home, but that’s about as far as you remember. And you’re not sure you want to know the rest of it. But you’re far too embarrassed to admit, so you put your acting skills to use. You’re not sure you can handle the shame of a real conversation.
“What?” you ask, forcing your voice to pitch higher as you slowly stand back up, hands covering your chest. “I didn’t– Oh my God, I’m so sorry if I came onto you. I was drunk, I must’ve been out of my mind. Please accept my deepest apologies.”
You notice Seonghwa’s eyes trail down to your chest and then snap back up to your face as if he’s forcing himself to and he chokes out a breath. Despite the headache, your mouth twitches. Maybe you’re still a little out of it. “No, nothing like that. I fetched you from the club because you called me to save you from a creep. Then I took you home and we slept.”
You sigh. “I’m glad. I do apologise for whatever my behaviour was. It was out of line and it won’t happen again. I understand if you want to let me go–”
“No!” Seonghwa’s outburst surprises you and your eyes widen. The lack of clothes you’re wearing has been long forgotten and you move around the counter to stand in front of him. Seonghwa has the decency to look a little embarrassed at the volume of his voice. “Sorry. I just…it’s like you’re a part of our family already. I care for you just as much as I care for Jihee.”
Ah. He thinks of you like a child. Your suspicions were right. You turn slightly to face away from him, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “I see. Well, I appreciate that. It’s nice to have a second family,” you chuckle, internally beating yourself up. How could you even entertain the thought of the two of you being together? “Let me change, and I’ll walk you out.”
As you return to your room, you finally let your heart sink as tears brim in your eyes. You hastily wipe them away as you rummage in the pile of clothes on your bed for something fairly appropriate to wear. First, you make a fool of yourself in front of Seonghwa, and then your crush is unfounded. You can’t seem to catch a break.
With a sigh, you pull on some shorts and a large shirt before heading back out. “Hey, (Y/N), could we talk first?” Seonghwa asks, still standing in between the kitchen and the living room as his eyes flit around nervously.
After some hesitation, you finally find your voice. “Sure? What’s up? You can sit on the couch if you want.”
Seonghwa takes a seat, hiking up his sweatpants and you move to the floor across the little coffee table. “Last night…you told me something.” Oh no. This is it. You bite your lower lip and look down, awaiting his next words. “Uh. So. You think you came onto me, right? Well. It was. Uh. It may have been me.”
You blink at him foolishly as your brain tries to wrap itself around your head. “You what?”
Seonghwa raises his hands and lowers his head ashamedly. “Let me explain, please. I saw you outside with that horrid excuse of a human and something in me snapped. I just wanted to protect you and I brought you home. But seeing you in that outfit? It just made me want you. And I told you. And you reciprocated. At least, you tried to.” He chuckles a little to himself, bringing up his hand to grip at his hair. “I told you we would talk in the morning. But one thing you said stuck with me. You wanted to be wanted. And all night I’ve been thinking about it. (Y/N), you were drunk. But you weren’t that drunk. Something you said had truth to it. Please. For my own sanity, tell me how you feel about me. Please.”
His voice cracks at the last syllable and something in your heart hurts at the sound. “Seonghwa I…I do care for you. More than I should. You’ve shown me unbendable compassion and you’ve never taken my words or myself for granted…or treated me like a child. Against my better judgment, I’ve fallen for you.” You sigh, tightening your fists. “I’ve been hating myself for the better part of six months because of it. You were so much better than me. In job, in maturity. What was I supposed to do? I went to the club to forget you, but it appears that didn’t work.”
Seonghwa stands quickly, shuffling over to kneel in front of you. “How could you think such a thing? Me better than you? Don’t make me laugh. I may be older than you, and yes, I have a better-paying job. But in the end, how could you compare? You’re amazing with Jihee. You’ve managed to teach her in ways I could hardly hope to imagine. And just because I have a higher wage doesn’t mean your job is less important. I wasn’t lying when I said it felt like you were already part of the family.”
“You told me you thought of me like Jihee,” you argue, and Seonghwa laughs, leaning forward to take your hands.
“I said I care for you as much as I care for Jihee. Not in the same way, (Y/N).” Seonghwa smiles kindly. “I know if this does happen we’ll need to put a lot of care into this, but if you’ll have me, I’d like to be with you.”
You’re not sure whether this is a dream or not, staring up at Seonghwa with wide eyes. You’d be a fool if you said no, but the worries in your head won’t seem to cease. Taking a deep breath, you push them aside and smile up at him. “I’ll have you, Seonghwa.”
As soon as the words fall out of your mouth you can see Seonghwa’s eyes crinkle as he smiles and leans in, his nose almost touching yours. “May I kiss you?” he murmurs in his deep voice, and instead of gracing him with a reply, you meet him in a soft kiss.
His large hands cup your face as he deepens the kiss, and his thumbs brush against your cheekbones. “You’re so pretty,” he hums, pressing a multitude of pecks to your lips. “Last night I was so conflicted. Seeing you like that made me almost go insane.”
An idea sparks in your brain, and a smile widens on your face. Your fingers crawl up his shoulders to rest your arms on them. “How insane?” you ask, and Seonghwa’s eyes darken.
“I’ll show you,” he grows before capturing your lips with his once again. This time his arms shift to wrap around your waist and he pulls you closer until you’re practically pressed against his body. You squeak at the sudden movement but it’s swallowed by the kiss.
He pulls you onto his lap and you can feel the growing hardness in his slacks. You wriggle your hips a little, grinding down, and the moan that Seonghwa lets out is heaven to your ears. “Fuck, (Y/N). You’re so pretty,” he repeats, burying his face in your neck and nipping at the sensitive skin.
You whine at the pain blooming into pleasure and your hands fist into his hair. Your precious sounds get to Seonghwa and he groans, moving your legs to wrap around his waist and he hoists you up and brings you over to the couch. “Your noises are so pretty, baby,” Seonghwa groans into your mouth. “Can’t wait to hear them when you’re wrapped around my cock.”
“Please–” is all you can muster out and your whines only serve to make Seonghwa’s cock harder in his pants.
With a groan, he pats your ass, motioning for you to move up. As soon as your hips lift, he grabs the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down to your knees, leaving your underwear and shirt on. In the same motion, he shoves his slacks and boxers down just far enough to let his cock spring free.
“Seonghwa–”  you whine and something in Seonghwa’s stomach burns at the idea of you crying on his throbbing dick. He sits back, guiding you to sit right above his cock as he moves it to rub against your soaked underwear. Every time the angry-red tip of it brushes against your clit you let out breathy moans and it only serves to make Seonghwa impossibly harder.
“Fuck, I can’t wait any longer,” Seonghwa breathes, his free hand coming up to brush against your face. A smile blooms on your face as you bend to kiss him again.
“Then don’t.”
Something flips in Seonghwa’s brain and he lifts you, pushes your underwear to the side, and lets his cock press into you slowly. The both of you throw your head back and groan loudly at the feeling of him slowly filling you up. He’s not the biggest you’ve had but that doesn’t matter as the sting of the stretch is enough to make you drool. You can hardly speak as you whine nonsense into his ear and let your head drop to the crook of his neck.
“You fit around me so well,” Seonghwa praises, his head spinning at the feeling of finally fucking you the way he dreamed of. It was only yesterday he was fucking into his hand at the thought of you and here he is, only a few hours later, his painfully hard member inside of you. “Look at you, a mess for me. Bet you’ve never been with an older man before. Do I make you feel good, baby?”
You clench at his words. “Fuck, yes, the best I’ve had,” you babble, squirming at the already overwhelming feeling. “You’re so good to me.”
Seonghwa laughs delightedly at how gone you seem to be not five minutes in. “So precious, especially for me, (Y/N). Sitting on my dick so prettily.” He gives a little experimental thrust upwards and you gasp. The noises you make are so addictive, he can’t help but do it again. And again.
You’re panting, moaning as he fills you up so deliciously and your hands grip at his now-wrinkled dress shirt. His cool hands slide up your baggy shirt to shove up your bra and cup your boobs. The weight of them sitting in his hands makes him groan as he leans in to mouth at them through your shirt.
“Been dreaming about these tits since last night. Jerked off in the bathroom after seeing you, you know?” Your eyes widen at the admission and Seonghwa smirks at how embarrassed you look. “Wanted you so bad and you thought I wouldn’t like you in that way? You’re so cute, (Y/N).” He punctuates each word with one thrust after another.
The feeling of his dick pumping into you as well as Seonghwa’s teeth scraping against the soft flesh of your tits makes you so overwhelmed. It’s almost embarrassing how close you are already, and Seonghwa knows it, chucking up at you from between your chest. “Aw, baby, you’re so far gone. Am I that good?”
You cry out and sink your teeth into the junction of his shoulder and neck. You’re trying so hard to keep your noises down but Seonghwa isn’t having any of that. His hand finds its way to your hair, gently tugging on it until your head falls back, exposing the column of your neck.
As his warm breath ghosts over it, you stiffen, and when he moves up from your chest to lick a stripe up it and nip at your earlobe, you come with a groan. Your hips are shaking from the intensity of it but his thrusts don’t stop and soon you’re whining from the overstimulation.
And he still hasn’t come.
“Fuck, Seonghwa, it’s so much,” you groan, mouth hanging open. Seonghwa greedily swoops in to capture your lips once more, licking into your mouth as his thrusts become more and more erratic.
His dick twitches and he groans. “Where do you want me? I’m clean,” Seonghwa mumbles into your mouth.
You shift your hips a little. “I’m clean too and on the pill, so it’s on you. I don’t care, I just want you, Hwa.”
Your words spark something in Seonghwa and he thrusts upwards, once, and his cum starts filling you. It’s searingly hot, settling deep in your gut and you throw your head back and moan so goddamn loud. His throbbing cock is twitching like crazy and it’s still pumping cum into you. Seonghwa’s hand slides down your body to tweak at your nipples, thumb over your flesh, and finally come to rub little circles into your clit.
You gasp and it feels like you’re touching heaven from the extra stimulation. “Gonna fill you up so well,” Seonghwa groans. “Do you think Jihee would like a sibling?” 
Your thoughts all blur together at his sentence and you come again with a groan. Your cunt squeezes around him so deliciously and a sob breaks its way out of your throat, one that Seonghwa eagerly swallows as he kisses you again.
His thrusts start to slow down and you slowly pull off his now-softening dick and settle back down on his lap. His hands push his leaking cum back into your pulsating pussy and you sigh at the feeling.
“Well, that was quite the escalation,” Seonghwa laughs quietly as he pulls both your and his pants back up and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. His hand pats your butt and you squirm and slap his chest softly.
“You’re lucky I’m on the pill.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly and Seonghwa hums, capturing your lips in his yet again. He can’t get enough of your plush lips and you’re not complaining at all.
“I’m lucky to have you, period,” he sighs happily. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”
You smile and sit up, ignoring the whines that come out of Seonghwa’s mouth at the lack of contact. “Well, I couldn’t let you be a lonely old man,” you tease and Seonghwa smacks your ass again.
“Can old man do what I just did?” You’re suddenly lying on your back with Seonghwa hovering over you, a crooked smile growing on his face. “Or do you need another demonstration?”
You smile and throw your arms around his shoulders and pull him closer. “I don’t know, sir, maybe you should show me once more.”
With a nip to your lips, Seonghwa leans in and your eyes crinkle at the promise of what’s to come.
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traveler-at-heart · 11 days
Text
The Doctor's In - Part 3
Summary: Wanda gets a little jealous and you're in trooouublee.
Wanda Maximoff x F!R, Carol Danvers x F!R.
A/N: Part 1 & 2 are recent, so you can find them on my blog. Sorry I'm tired and lazy to link them. Will do that later lol.
Coffee in an IV, that’s what you need. However, drinking it is the next best thing so you get one from the cafeteria and give the other cup to Darcy, who’s yawning in one of the stretchers that people leave in the hallway.
“Bless you”
You hum in acknowledgment, sitting next to her.
“Duty or booty?” she asks when your phone pings.
“Ha, good one. You should do stand up” you say, ignoring her.
“So, it is a booty call” Darcy insists when you begin typing, a smile on your face.
“It’s not. My neighbour was telling me something about her children. You remember them, the Maximoffs”
“The broken arm?” you nod, sipping from your cup. “Ok, so now you text her about her children? To get into her pants?”
“No! Not everything is about sex, Darcy”
“If you really think about it, it kinda is. And you still haven’t told me why she’s texting you”
“I took care of the twins the other day, when she went out on a blind date. With a man” you give her a pointed look. “And I showed them a videogame I loved when I was kid, and apparently helped to create a new obsession”
“Which one? Lara Croft?”
“Spyro”
“The purple dragon? You are such a dork” she says, scrunching up her face. You roll your eyes, ready to give her the middle finger when her pager goes off.
“Karma” you cough up and she glares.
“This conversation is not over!” she threatens, leaving you alone.
You look at the chat with Wanda.
Wanda: They both want to be Spyro for Halloween!
Y/N: Sounds cute! They could have a little Sparks floating around on their shoulder.
Wanda: It’s all they talk about every day, I swear I’m dreaming about dragons.
Y/N: Sorry?
Y/N: I do have a plan to make it up to you.
You’re done with the coffee, at least if you want to get some rest. Still, you pick up a latte and a scone for Wanda, and carry the new videogame as you knock on the woman’s door.
“Oh, hi!” she looks at you, confused.
“Hey. Sorry, I don’t know how you take your coffee. It’s a latte, dairy free” you hand over the cup and the scone. “And I have something for the twins”
“That’s so sweet, but they’re at school”
“Today’s not Saturday?” you say, confused. Wanda giggles at that, making you blush.
“Today is Tuesday. Come on in”
“I didn’t mean to interrupt, I’m sorry” you say, following her to the kitchen.
“I don’t have to be at work for another hour, so it’s fine” she assures you. “Plus you saved me a trip to the coffee shop”
“You know, I’ve never asked about what you do for a living” you say apologetically, only now realising that you’ve barely interacted with Wanda since you moved here.
“I’m an author and illustrator” she says.
“That’s so cool! Anything I’ve read?”
“Only if you like children’s books” the woman smiles.
“Can’t say that I have read any lately. But that’s awesome. I’m a little starstruck, I’ve never met a writer before”
Wanda laughs at that, and you blush a little.
“Oh, before I forget. Maybe this will distract them from dragons” you hand over the new videogame and Wanda arches an eyebrow.
“The solution to a videogame is another videogame?” she says with her mom voice.
“Uh… yes? It’s Crash. It’s really funny. Sorry, it was dumb, forget it” you begin to regret it, reaching for the box, but Wanda does the same thing, her hand landing on yours.
“I’m kidding. It’s very sweet of you, Y/N”
The way she says your name is almost hypnotic, and once again your eyes travel to her lips.
For the first time, you’re willing to admit that it wasn’t the alcohol that made you wanna kiss Wanda.
Still, your hands are touching and you want to lean forward.
Your phone interrupts the moment, and you apologize, thinking it might be from the hospital.
Carol: I’m outside your house :)
What?
“Work?” Wanda says when you frown.
“I’m not sure… I should get home. Sorry”
“I’ll walk you out. If you want to come by for dinner and show the boys the new game, you’re more than welcomed” she offers.
“Yeah, that sounds like fun. I’ll text you later” you promise, waving the woman goodbye.
Carol is leaning against her motorcycle, and she does a double take when you walk out of the house across the street.
“Did I get the wrong house?”
“No” you laugh. “I was at my neighbour’s, I got something for her kids”
“That’s very thoughtful” Carol holds your hand, and you try not to blush at the sudden contact.
“So, what’s up?”
“I was wondering if you’d like to come to my place tonight. I’ll cook something nice, we’ll have a lot of sex and you won’t have to hold back those pretty moans of yours”
“Such a romantic, Danvers” you roll your eyes, but smile nonetheless. “I’m in”
“Alright. See you tonight” Carol says, kissing you. That’s another thing that takes you by surprise, and you don’t know what’s gotten into her.
Walking inside your home, you open the fridge and it doesn’t hit you until you see Billy’s drawing.
You told Wanda you’d be there for dinner.
Crap.
It feels cheap to cancel over what is esentially a -very tempting- booty call, but you’re also aware that you might be thinking too much of yourself. The truth is, Wanda probably doesn’t give a crap about whether or not her workaholic neighbour comes to dinner.
A few hours later, when you’re still thinking of a way to politely reschedule, you get a text from Wanda.
Wanda: I forgot we had a thing with friends from school. Maybe some other time?
Y/N: Yeah, no worries!
You try to ignore the disappointment you feel over not seeing Wanda again, focusing on the night ahead.
Here were the facts:
Wanda dated men, obviously.
Darcy would kick your ass if she even suspected you had a crush on your straight neighbour.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s what is happening.
“I hope you like parmesan chicken” Carol says, as you look around her apartment. The decoration is very modern and you admire the collection of books she has. You’re more of an online article person, but right now you’re reconsidering your stance.
“Smells great” you comment, opening the bottle of white wine you brought. You hop on her kitchen counter, watching as she finishes the food.
“So, what did your neighbours say about that thing you got them?”
“I don’t know, they were at school, but maybe I’ll stop by tomorrow”
Or maybe not, considering you’re developing a crush on their beautiful mother.
“I didn’t know you liked kids so much” she comments and you shrug your shoulders.
“I mean, I’m ok with kids, but these two are really sweet and nice. One of them was at the hospital recently, he broke his arm”
“Really? And how come I didn’t hear of it?” Carol raises her eyebrows, always on top of everything that happens at her department.
“Relax, Ortho Goddess. I drove them there and took care of everything, your intern just helped with the cast” you take a sip of your wine. “I don’t even know if you were at the hospital”
“So, no dad?”
You shrug your shoulders, a bit impatient. You were hoping to push Wanda out of your mind, and Carol kept on bringing her up.
“I’m not sure what happened, if there’s a father in the picture or not… but enough about this. How’s the grant application?”
“It’s hell. But I’m glad Kamala is so committed, I’d go nuts without her”
“Must be nice, to have an intern like that” you say, thinking about the rotation of doctors you get. They’re helpful, but none of them stay long enough to understand the logistics of an ER.
“No more chat about work” Carol proclaims and you laugh.
“Oh, what else can we talk about?“
“You’re right. Maybe we shouldn’t talk at all”  she pretends to think about it, standing between your legs. Your laugh is cut off by her lips on yours, moving impatiently until you let her explore your mouth with her tongue.
“Food’s gonna get cold”
“We’ll heat it up” Carol says, pulling your legs around her waist and carrying you across the apartment. “Let me show you the bedroom”
“We’re skipping the rest of the tour?”
“No, we’re definitely having sex in the shower” Carol says, making you laugh.
As her kissing becomes frantic, and you lose yourself in the feeling of skin against skin, for a brief moment, you forget those green eyes and auburn hair.
The rest of the week goes by in a blur. An accident in the highway keeps you locked in the hospital for 48 hours straight, and all you can manage is sleep and shower between surgeries.
You get to be for eight hours at home before returning for a day and a half shift. The only thing in your mind as you finally get in the car is working out, because you’ve seen horrible situations for the past four days and need to be so exhausted that you’ll pass out as soon as your head hits the pillow.
You go out in a sports bra and shorts, hoping the exercise helps with all the stress. After a good thirty minutes, you return home, sweating and panting.
You turn to the garden hose to pour some water on your face and neck, when you hear someone cursing and something falling.
“You ok?” you run to Wanda, trying to get her garbage can back up.
“Yeah, thanks” she says, looking anywhere but you. “Busy lately?”
“God, you have no idea” you sigh, crossing your arms. “Heard about that crash in the highway? We had like twelve people come in”
“That’s horrible” Wanda says, finally looking at you.
“It’s the job I guess. How are you? And the twins? Did they like the game?”
“Oh, they actually haven’t had…”
You hear a motorcycle pulling up and have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. What’s Carol’s game? The blonde eyes you, and you want to smack that smug grin off her face.
“Sorry, you were saying” you ignore her, turning back to Wanda.
“It’s not important, I have to get back and make dinner” she says, saying goodbye as fast as possible. You turn back home, feeling dejected.
“Was I interrupting?” Carol asks.
“Is that supposed to mean something?”
“I don’t think you notice the way she’s looking at you, Y/N” she insists as you both step inside your house.
“Wanda? Don’t be ridiculous, she’s just my neighbour”
Your perfect, funny, beautiful neighbour who has her life together and no time to entertain a workaholic like you.
“And last time I checked, we weren’t exclusive” you add.
“Why are you trying to pick a fight with me?” she smiles, cornering you against the wall.
“Because, I don’t know what’s up with you, having me over and then showing up out of the blue. It’s very… couple-y”
“Is that so?” she leans forward, her lips barely touching yours.
“Y-yes”
“Maybe I just had a bad week, and I know for a fact you did too. So we can take a bath together, have some pizza and then fuck each other’s brains out”
This time, her lips do actually meet yours and inspite of everything, you give into the kiss.
“Unless you wanna invite your neighbour over to join us, which I’m definitely not against”
“Ugh, you’re such an ass” you break apart, rolling your eyes and going upstairs, laughing with Carol as she follows you eagerly.
They’ll have to move. That’s the only way to escape.
Wanda closes the door, leaning against it, hoping that the image of you, walking in those sinful clothes disappears from her mind.
Of course she had to make a fool of herself, dropping the garbage and attracting your attention.
If only she had gone out earlier, Wanda could have saved herself the trouble of witnessing that mysterious woman, who was very obviously your girlfriend, looking at you like you were an entire meal.
What if she moves in with you? What if Wanda has to see you everyday, kissing the blonde goodbye or hanging around or…?
“Mom” Tommy calls for her, and she has to pull herself together.
“Yes, sweetheart” she forces a smile, looking at her son.
“What are we having for dinner?”
“Well, I was thinking some mac and cheese”
And then, she’ll drown her sorrows in a bottle of cheap wine. Hopefully she’ll dream of you, sweaty and having your way with Wanda.
There’s an unfamiliar weight as you wake up, and as you turn, you look at Carol’s disheveled state.
“Blanket thief” you accuse.
“Shhh”
“Gotta pee”
“No, five more minutes” she pleads, nuzzling against your neck.
“What? Too tired after last night?” you taunt, remembering how she seemed to be insatiable and only stopped when you were too sensitive.
“Well, yeah. I rocked your world. Where’s my reward?”
“I can offer you coffee and scrambled eggs”
“Your fridge was empty, remember?”
“Oh. In that case, coffee and breakfast somewhere nice”
“Deal” she kisses your shoulder, moving to get her clothes.
“I can’t believe we have to be back in three hours” you complain, stretching. The sheet falls, leaving your entire body in full display.
“Maybe we can have something else for breakfast” Carol says, pulling you back down.
After another hour, you finally go down the stairs. You’re arguing over taking her motorcycle or your car when you hear voices outside.
Billy and Tommy are looking curiously at the motorcycle, touching the handle.
“Hey, kiddos” you greet, and they turn around, scared at being caught.
“Wanna get on it?” Carol offers and they nod excitedly.
Carol is busy showing them how it works when the front door opens, Wanda calling for the twins.
“You know you can’t leave the house like that. I am so sorry” she turns to you, but Carol is the one who answers.
“It’s no problem, really”
Wanda gives the blonde a tight smile.
“Come on, let’s get back inside”
“Oh, how long has he had the cast?” Carol says.
“Like a year” Billy says and you laugh, ruffling his hair.
“3 weeks?” you turn to Wanda.
“It’s actually 4. I meant to ask you when is he supposed to get it off”
“Come by the hospital and we’ll take a look. Children’s bones heal faster” Carol says, and it’s very obvious now that she’s inserting herself in the conversation so Wanda acknowledges she’s with you.
“Sure. I’ll text Y/N later”
“Great. I’ll make time to personally check Billy, did I get it right?” Carol turns to the kid and he nods.
“Well, Y/N has been his doctor, so I don’t think that’s necessary” Wanda pushes back, crossing her arms. All you do is look between them.
“Oh, we can both check it out if it makes you more comfortable, after all I am the head of Orthopedic Surgery”
“I thought you didn’t date other surgeons” Wanda turns, and you can finally get a glimpse of how scary she must be when one of the twins disobbeys her. She’s smiling, but her eyes tell a different story.
“I… well…” you mumble like an idiot.
“Time to go, or we won’t eat breakfast. Come on, I’m starving after last night” Carol takes your hand, pulling you away from Wanda.
You’d rather be doing an enema on a patient than witnessing this weird tug-a-war they have going on.
“Come on, boys” Wanda takes them back home, and Carol waves innocently at her.
“Seriously?” you say, ripping out the extra helmet from her hands.
“What? I was just messing with her. Come on, princess. Hold on tight”
Carol revs the engine loudly, leaving your driveway with a smile on her face.
She has the better sense to drop the subject during breakfast, picking out a small diner close to the hospital.
On the other hand, you are unable to stop thinking about everything that happened and, against your better judgement, do something that you’ll clearly regret.
You tell Darcy.
“Wait, wait, wait!” she says, holding her sides. “Your situationship and the MILF next door were fighting over you?”
“It’s not funny” you say, resisting the urge to choke her with her stethoscope.
“It so is. Girl, you gotta pick a struggle”
“You’re useless” you complain.
“No, ok, hear me out” she takes a deep breath, wiping away the tears and looking at you. “So, on one hand, you have a thing with Danvers. Do you really think she got over Rambeau already?”
“Of course not! Which is why I was fine with it being just sex. She’s the one who started doing other weird, couple stuff”
You weren’t an idiot; Carol and Maria had been together for years, and engaged until Maria left to work with Doctors Without Borders. Thought you didn’t know why they split up, it was fairly obvious that they were too proud to talk it out, but they still loved each other.
“Exactly. So, let’s say you start seeing Danvers more seriously, and then Maria comes back. You’re…”
“Fucked” you nod along, starting to understand Darcy’s point.
“On the other hand, you have the hot mom. According to you, she dates men. We have no clue if the father of her children is dead, missing, crazy… Maybe he'll come back eventually”
“And I’m fucked again” you rub your eyes, frustrated. “All I wanted was a way to destress. This is the exact opposite”
“I guess you’re very charming” Darcy shrugs her shoulders, and you’re about to thank her when she adds. “Or stupid”
In spite of everything, her words hold some truth. As you see patients and take care of the ER, you think of a way to fix everything.
Then, your phone pings and dread invades you.
Wanda: We’re in the foyer.
Fuck it, you’ll make sure you get to them before Carol and send them home before they get into another weird ass argument.
You run to find the Maximoffs, taking Billy to get an X-Ray.
“It’s urgent” you tell the technician.
But Carol is three steps ahead of you, because she asked to be informed of any patients that came to get X-Rays over cast removals.
So, by the time you and Billy come back, Wanda and Tommy are in the room, while Carol confirms Billy’s arm is completely healed.
“Hey, thank you for getting that X-Ray” Carol says with a smile and you curse to yourself.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“Come on, kiddo, let’s get your arm back” you bring him to the bed, where Kamala prepares to do the removal. Carol forgets her little feud with Wanda for a moment, reminding her resident how to do the procedure.
“Is that a saw?” Wanda says, pale.
“Yes, I know it looks scary but it’s perfectly safe, I promise” you say, holding on to her arm. She looks at you, nodding and you smile, letting your hand drop to her back, rubbing slowly to calm her down. Wanda leans into the touch, her shoulders relaxing.
It’s so easy, to reach out for her.
Carol doesn’t miss the contact, but keeps on observing as Kamala cuts the cast.
Billy moves his arm tentatively.
“It might be weird at first. Try to take it easy the first few days” you say and Billy nods, keeping the cast with all stickers and drawings from his friends.
“That’s pretty much it” Carol says, removing her gloves. “If you have any questions…”
“I’ll call Y/N. Thank you” Wanda cuts off.
“Mom, we should celebrate!” Billy says. “Can Y/N come over?”
“That would be fun…” you begin to say.
“Oh, sweetheart. Y/N is very busy” Wanda speaks over you. She’s not even looking your way and you hate to admit it, it kinda hurts.
“No more running down the stairs, buddy” you say, opening the door for them. The three walk out, Tommy and Billy waving goodbye.
Carol goes after you the minute you leave the room.
“What the hell was that?”
“Excuse me?”
“The touching and the love eyes” she insists.
“You’re the one that made it weird to begin with, Carol” you say, feeling a headache approaching.
“Well, yeah. We have this thing going on and you act like you’re in love with someone else”
“Now hold on” you stop in the middle of the hallway, pointing a finger to her chest. “You and I agreed it was just sex. We don’t talk about the massive elephant in the room because frankly, it’s none of my business. But be honest. If Maria came back right now, would you not to want to be with her?”
Carol takes a step back. This is the first time you’ve seen her speechless.
“I don’t know. Maybe. If she came back, I… she would come first. But that’s just hypothetical”
“No, it isn’t. Because she is right there, Carol”
You point behind her, watching as Maria Rambeau, former head of Pediatric Surgery is talking to Chief Fury.
Carol turns her head so fast you’re shocked she didn’t snap something.
The look of adoration, longing and sorrow in her eyes tells you everything you need to know.
“Go” you smile, squeezing her arm. “You should always go after what you want, Danvers”
She nods, still too shocked to move.
You’ll let them have their reunion in private and will use the rest of your shift to mope about Wanda.
“Go home” Fury says when you stick around long after your shift. “Sorry about Danvers”
“Sir, you knew?”
“I know everything” he shrugs his shoulders and you can’t help but smile.
Of course, Carol drove you here so you take a cab home, which is fine. You’re too tired and distracted to drive anyway.
Truth is, you’re not sad about Carol. The only thing you can think about is Wanda and how she left without so much as a look in your direction.
“This the place?” the driver says and you snap out of it, handing him the money and some extra. “Sweet, thanks. Have a good night”
“You too, man”
After a shower, and eating pizza leftovers, you’re still thinking about Wanda. As you sip from your beer, and look at the tv without paying attention, someone knocks at the door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Wanda”
You jump from the couch, spilling some of the beer on your pants.
“Sorry, if it’s a bad time I’ll come back later”
“No, wait” you run to the door, opening and looking ashamed. “I spilled beer on myself. I seem to do that a lot when you’re around”
“I should have texted, I’m sorry”
“No, you can come over whenever you want. Is everything ok, are you ok?”
“Well, no” she runs her hands through her hair, and starts ranting. “I came to apologize, I was so rude to you, and I have absolutely no right to be. You have been nothing but nice, helpful and kind and I… I was a total bitch”
“Hey, hey, stop it” you take her hand, pulling her inside. “Wanda, it’s fine, I get it. I’m not mad at you”
“You have every right to be” Wanda insists, and you can see she’s spiraling, so you pull her against you, hugging her.
“I’m here. Not going anywhere”, you say against her shoulder. You only let go when you feel Wanda’s breathing going back to normal. You take a step back, your hands dropping to her waist. “Want some pizza and beer?”
“Uh… that sounds good, yeah. Can we sit on your kitchen? That way I can look out the window, just in case the twins wake up”
“Yeah, come on” you take her hand, closing the door as she enters your place.
You stay silent as you warm a slice of pizza and get another beer for you, offering her a bottle.
“I don’t think I’ve drank beer since college” she says, smiling.
“Only fancy wine?” you joke, taking a seat next to her.
“Not even that these days. Listen… I really am sorry and though it may not seem like it, I’m happy for you and Doctor Danvers”
“Oh, that’s not a thing” you interrupt her.
“Was it something I did?” she says, looking mortified.
“No, it was just… uh, never serious. I think she might be fixing things with her ex so that’s the end” you explain, removing the label of your bottle.
“Are you ok?” Wanda reaches for your hand and you blush.
Yeah, I’m ok because you’re here now.
“I am, it wasn’t serious. Honestly, it was just sex”
“Oh” Wanda blushes, and removes her hand from yours, taking a large gulp of her beer.
“I mean, we all have needs, wouldn’t you agree?” you tease, leaning forward as if you’re telling her a secret.
“I suppose so, yeah” Wanda gets lost in your eyes, hoping you close the distance.
And you want to, you really do, but Wanda gave you a hard time and you might make her sweat a little before giving in.
So, you lean back on your chair, smiling mischeviously at the other woman.
“How’s Billy? Happy to be cast free?”
“Yeah, he’s excited about getting to play that dragon game you gave them from the start”
“I guess Crash wasn’t good enough to replace Spyro” you say, understanding the twins. You always had a soft spot for the latter.
“Actually… I didn’t give them the other game” Wanda admits, chewing her lip nervously.
“Why?”
“To be honest, I wanted you to give it to them so I could… I don’t know, have an excuse to see you again”
As Wanda admits her reasoning, red invades her cheeks. Your heart skips a beat at the sweet admission, and you stand up, walking to where she’s sitting.
“You don’t ever need an excuse to talk to me”
“No?” she says, fidgeting wih her bottle.
“You can text me, call me, fax me, page me. I’ll give you my email so you have that option as well” you say, making Wanda laugh.
“I just don’t know what to talk about sometimes, I get nervous”
“Well, we could talk about the weather, how inflation is crazy high… you could tell me about the Scarlet Witch”
“You looked up one of my books?” Wanda says, blushing.
“Yeah, I have it, ready to get an autograph from the author herself”
Wanda blushes even more at that, chewing on her bottom lip. You take another teeny, tiny step towards her, eyes going to her lips.
“Or, we could not talk. There’s plenty one can do without verbal communication. Like bird watching”
“Crossword puzzles” Wanda jokes, following along.
“Kissing” you say, leaning forward until you’re inches apart. You let her decide if she wants to close the distance, and Wanda does, her lips tentatively moving against yours.
She tastes like vanilla and you sigh against her mouth, pulling her close to you.
It’s everything you imagined and more, her pretty sighs spurring you on until your hands go down her sides, and to her waist.
At the movement, Wanda breaks the kiss, making you whine.
“Is this… do you want this to be just sex?”
“You deserve more than that”
Yes, the thought of Wanda naked, moaning your name make you weak in the knees, but you also want to bring her coffee and have lunch together.
“So, does that mean…?”
“Go out on a date with me” you blurt out, trying to catch your breath.
“Yes” she nods, pulling you in for another kiss. This time, you’re not so sure you’ll be able to resist the urge of worshipping her body right in the middle of your kitchen, for all the nighbourhood to watch. “I should go”
“You only just got here” you complain, kissing down her neck.
“And if I stay, you won’t get your beauty sleep”
“Sleep is overrated” you mumble, biting down her neck playfully.
“Ok!” she holds back a moan, jumping as if your touch burns her.
“Did I hurt you?” you say, worried.
“No, it wasn’t pain that I felt” Wanda admits, turning red.
“I’ll behave” you raise your hands and Wanda steps back, not sure that she believes you. “How about next Thursday?”
“That can work, yeah. Let me just check with the nanny”
She walks to the door, lips slightly swollen.
“Sounds good. I’ll see you before that, though”
“Right, because I live across the street”
“And I might need to borrow some sugar” you joke, leaning forward to open the door, trapping Wanda’s body. “Or other stuff”
“I should go”
“You sure?”
“Yes” the woman nods, biting down her lip. Still, she pecks your lips one last time, and takes advantage of how flustered you get to walk out the door.
“Text me when you’re home” you joke, making her giggle. Still, you don’t get inside until she opens her own door, waving at you one last time.
You take your phone, reading a lenghty text from Carol saying she was really sorry about everything. And then another one comes in.
Wanda: I’m home.
Y/N: Come back.
Wanda: I wish.
Wanda: Night, Y/N
Y/N: Night, Wands.
456 notes · View notes
angelicblondie · 2 months
Text
boydguard!rafe x popstar!reader (MDNI)
note: I made the reader blonde bc i really wanted her to kind of encapsulate sabrina carpenter, so if you'd like, ignore that and imagine her however you'd like!
warning: unprotected sex (pls dont do this lol)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
ok, fine. you had a crush on your bodyguard.
rookie mistake, but who could blame you?
you hired rafe about a year and a half ago, after you started to gain a ton of popularity and recognition. your music had blown up, prompting and influx of new fans, and new attention. you had started to get recognized almost everywhere you went, and when your management company recommended looking into getting a bodyguard, you weren't opposed.
at first, the two of you didn't talk much - he was an intimidating guy, he was generally pretty quiet and constantly wore a serious expression, and although you considered yourself outgoing, you still found yourself a bit nervous around him (not to mention, he was seriously hot).
but after spending much more time with him, you began to crack open the walls of his harsh exterior, and began to get to the know the man behind the suit.
he was actually really kind, and although his resolve with strictly professional, he turned out to be one of the people you trusted most, which made you feel all the more secure that he was the one who held your protection in the palm of his hand.
although there was still so much you have yet to discover about him, you considered him a friend at the very least, even if he might not have considered you one back.
not to mention, your big fat crush on him.
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you've reached the point in tour where the days blend together, and so do the nights. you've lost track of how many shows you've done, and how many you have left. but you wouldn't change a second of it, despite your exhaustion and the homesickness that pools in your chest.
you've reached the miami shows, which were around the halfway point for the american leg of your tour. you had arrived at your hotel last night, which you will reside in for the next couple of days.
you awoke alone in your king size bed, the sun shining through the sheer curtains. you groaned as you stretched, the sheets slipping form you skin and pooling at your hips as your arms reached above your head.
you rubbed your eyes as you walked over to the bathroom, turning the water hot in the shower as steam filled the room. you let the water cascade down your body, smoothing down the goosbumps that prickled your skin from the cold room. you spent a while there, enjoying the peace and quiet of the early morning.
after that you got dressed into a simple jeans and a tank top, throwing a hoodie over in hopes of inconspicuity. you grab you handbag before leaving your room, making your way over to rafes to knock on his door. rafe doesn't take long before opening it, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, looking down at you.
he checks the watch on his wrist. "coffee time?" he asks.
"mhm," you nod whilst humming.
this has become a sort of tradition on show days - rafe takes you to the nearest coffee shop and the two of you sit down, going over the schedule of the day whilst you pry him for details of his life - it was a good dynamic.
after ordering you coffee, you and rafe found a table in the corner of the cafe, avoiding being recognised. you had black, thin oval sunglasses coverering your eyes, sipping you vanila iced coffee leisurly and rafe gave you the usual laydown. given the sunglasses covered your eyes, you took the oppurtunity to run them over his features, taking in the way his brows scrunched as he read the schedule off his phone, the bite he pursed his lips when scrolling to the next section, the way he ran a hand through his hair as he sighed and layed back into his seat - you saw it all.
ok, so what, you admired his appearance - so did everyone, he was a hot guy! the first time you really took notice of it was when you were scrolling on tiktok about 8 months ago, coming across a sideshow of photos of him and you, the comments thirsting over him and speculating about our relationship.
you couldn't look him in the eye that whole day.
you even embarrassingly wrote a song or two about him, one of them even making it in your album- not that he knew of it, but it was embarrassing for you.
it wasnt a crazy love song or anything, the title was "xo", and the precipece was really just admiring how hot he was and how much you wish you coud have him. so yeah, you get a little shy sometime preforming it, knowing he was backstage watching.
after rafe finished talking you placed your chin in your palm, leaning your elbow on the table.
"when did you get your first girlfriend?" you ask innocently, your influx of questions beginning.
rafe sighed like he always did, but he expected it. "9th grade. kylie newman. pretty brunnete." he respons montonously.
you frowned. you were a blonde.
"why'd you breakup?" you ask, swirling the straw in your drink.
rafe sighed. "think i dumped her to focus on basketball or some shit."
you snorted. "classic."
the corner of rafes lips tilted up in an amused smirk, as he scoffed and looked away, scanning the premises of the cafe. as if he was gonna find any danger here, you thought to yourself with an internal scoff.
rafe could pretend he didn't enjoy your company all he wanted, but you knew the truth. he found you amusing, and you would go even as far to say that he cared about you quite a bit, no matter how much of that he hides. he cares about your safety, and not just because its his job. you could just tell. you enjoyed your banter with him, no matter how much he pretended it was one sided and tried to stay strictly professional.
you continue your questions. "why'd you and your last girlfriend break up?"
he turned his attention back to you, leaned back with his arms cross over his chest. you eyes ran over his low visible torso, and you were starting to think that you eyesight wasn't as concealed as you initially thought, because he wore a little smirk on his face.
"cause a'you," he repplied bluntly, watching as your brows furrowed in confusion.
"ok, explain," you demand.
he chuckled. "nah, it actually had nothin' to do with you, really just this job. she wasn't willing to make long distance work," he said casually, as if it didn't bother him.
you frowned, having no idea he was dating someone right before taking this job. you felt a little guilty, even though you were secretly glad he was still single.
"im sorry," your murmur, sipping a bit of your coffee.
he shrugged. "not a big deal, it was a while ago now."
you nod, turning your head to take in the environment around you. you sigh.
"dont get me wrong, i love touring, but i'm exhausted." you say.
rafe nodded. "yeah, i can tell."
you roll your eyes. "how kind," you say sarcastically, but a little smile brightens up your features.
rafe chuckles. "didnt mean it like that, just meant i can tell since i know you."
you felt your heart flutter a bit as you held back a flirty comment, knowing he would ice you out if you said it. you had tried to be flirty with him in the past, but he didnt exactly tolerate it, taking a very professional approach to your relationship. that being said, you knew that you and him were closer than any other celebrity and her bodyguard - i mean, you could just ask any of your star-studded friends, they barely talked to their bodyguards.
you decided to play it cool and lean forward a bit more. "you dont know everything."
ok, maybe that was still a bit too flirty. you couldnt help it!
rafe raised his brows with a slight upwards tilt of his lips. "i know enough."
was he flirting back?
you bite your lip a bit and giggle, lifting you sunglasses above your head. "are you gonna come to the after-show ?" you ask, changing the subject, wondering if you could convince him since hes seemingly in a good mood.
since you were giving two concerts in miami, you did what you did at the end of every residency - you hosted an after-show. the after-show was really just the time after a concert where you and your team all got together in your hangout area at the venue and celebrated the show. rafe didnt usually come, instead standing outside the door on lookout.
rafe rolled his eyes. "your trying to get me in trouble." he stated, looking at you knowingly
your face twist in faux offense. "what!? i would never! you clearly dont know me as well as you think," you scoff dramatically.
rafe chuckled. "i'll think about it."
he'll think about it.
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you spent the rest of morning chilling, then rafe took you to the venue mid afternoon. he stood outside of your dressing room as you got changed, then you "forced" (as he said it) him to come inside as they did you hair and makeup.
you loved your show outfits, all consisting of short unitard dresses with sparkles and glitter, being the perfect mix of cute and sexy. the always did you hair with a slight wave and tons of volume, making it easy to toss during performances. you makeup was glowly and flawless, and you always felt like such a doll when you got all done up like this.
you wore chunky heels as well, which were a struggle to walk in at first but soon became easier as you got used to it. rafe sat on the couch as you talked casualy to him, the hair and makeup people smiling in amusement at his short responses, and your apparent unbothered state. your team at some point had entered the room, sitting around the couch as they made sure everything was prepared for the show. after the hair and makeup people finnished, they left, causing you to stand up from your seat.
you sighed, flopping next to rafe on the couch as he sighed, throwing his phone to the side and reaching behind your neck to un-squish your hair between your head and the couch, instead moving it so flowed off the end. you had told him a while ago that this was important so it didnt flatten, and you were honestly a little supprised.
your assistant snickered, knowing of your intrest in the bodyguard and you sent her an unserious glare. you sighed and leaned your head further back, closing your eyes as you focussed on breathing - an exersise that became a staple before shows. you brought your hand in front of rafe, and he wordlessly grabbed it, cracking your knuckles for you. that was also part of the tradition.
later on, when there was about 30 minutes before the show, you and your assistant emma were chilling in the hallways, sitting on the floor.
"so, hows rafe?" she asked with a little smirk. you nudged her. "shut up," you say, but a smile adjourned you features.
"c'mon, your telling me nothings happened yet?" she asked, her voice comming to a whisper.
you look around before answering. "its not like i havent tried," you huff, "hes just is so professional. hes set on the job, which as his employer, is great, but as the girl who wants him..." your trail off, biting your lip, "isnt great. and hes probably right, it'd be an awful idea to try anything." you justify.
emmas face is thoughtful. "yeah, i mean, your not wrong, but its bound to happen. your obviously both attracted to each other, so something is obviously going to happen."
you nod, but felt a bit of worry fester in your chest. you were worried he'd only want you for your body, not you yourself, which was something that you were so used to - you didnt want to put yourself through that again.
not too long later, you were under the stage, getting ready to be risen up to the crowd. holding you bedazzled mic, you get your classic pep talk from your manage kelly and nodded along, seeing rafe standing afar with his arms crossed over his chest in your periphery.
so when it was time for the show to start, you sent him a wink as you turned around, being lifted on to the stage as the screams become louder.
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after the show, your drenched in sweat, you hair is much flatter than before, and your filled with adrenaline still.
you receive the praise thrown your way by pretty much everyone backstage graciously with a big smile, still breathing hard and your heart has yet to slow down. once finally reaching your dressing room, you collapse on the couch.
you hear a knock on the door, and you yell out for the person to come in as you lift yourself up, and see rafe enter, closing the door behind him.
he tosses you a plastic water bottle. "good show," he compliments casually, causing you to beam.
"thanks. yeah it felt pretty good out there, energy was high, huh?" you reply, taking a long sip of the water.
he nodded, sitting on the coffee table in front of you. "mhm," he hummed, leaning his elbows on his thighs, "i specifically like that song you played in the middle of the set...blankin' on the name."
you hold back a blush, knowing he was talking about xo (aka, the song about him). you act nonchalant, crossing a leg over the other. "xo?" you ask.
his lips tilt up. "thats the one."
you hum, nodding a bit before looking away to avoid eye contact, getting a bit bashful. then you remember you conversation with emma before, and a sudden burst of confidence ran through you. you turn back to face him, playing with the hem of your short dress. "what about that one do you like?" you ask a bit boldly.
rafe blinked. "the dance is fun." he replies after a beat.
your body feels hot. the dance is a bit suggestive, much like the song, consisting of your hands running down your body and sinking low to the ground. he wasnt the only one who liked that dance, you had seen a lot of conversation about it online.
you hum. "what about it?" you ask, your voice light yet a bit suggestive. he raises his brows a bit at your question and you shrug casually. "for reasearch purpouses, of course."
he breaths out a chuckle, placing his hands behind him to lean back.
"the part during the chorus," he replies.
"yeah?"
"yeah, s'cute."
you scoff. "cute?" you giggle, sitting up a bit. "thats not exactly the intention." you state, biting your lip a little.
you were being obvious, you knew that. you could blame it on the post-show high, but you knew that wasnt why.
you were frustrated pretending that you didnt want him every single day. you were frustrated that he had continuously turned down your subtle advances, and pretended he didnt want you too. you saw the way he looked at you, the way he looked you up and down in your stage outfits when he thought you werent looking - you knew he was at least attracted to you.
he poked his tongue into his cheek. "careful, kid," he warned.
you tilt your head, gazing at him with faux innocence. "what?"
he shooks his head, breathing out a laugh. "swear your tryna' get me in trouble," he said, the air around you two beginning to feel thicker.
"trouble?" you ask, still playing the part. "i was just askin' what you liked bout' my show. why dont you tell me more? i've been waiting for some honest feedback."
rafe clenched his jaw a bit, sitting up straighter. "i think you look a bit desperate in the opening."
you raise you brows. "s'that so?"
"mhm. every guy in the audiences jaw was on the floor."
you tilt your head. "thats the whole point," you subtly tease.
you lean back, bringing you feet up to rest in his lap. he looks down at your shoes for a bit before looking back inquisitively at you. you giggle. "tell me more, rafe. im curious on your thoughts."
rafe shook his head with a somewhat defeated look. "you know my thoughts."
you perk up, swinging you feet off his lap to stand up right in front of him. "i do?" you ask, a flirtatious smile on your face.
he looked up at you, his jaw tight and expression grave. "enough, kid."
although usually you would be discouraged, maybe even a little embaressed, tonight you werent.
"not until you tell me your thoughts." you say stubornley.
he sighed, rubbing his jaw in frusturation. "what do you wanna know?"
you bite your lip, a subtle smile still on you face as your eyes glazed over with flirtation.
"how long have you known that xo was about you?" you ask after a moment, feeling as bold as ever.
rafe seemed suprised by my question, essentially outing myself. he pursed his lips. "long time, kid," he said, his lips forming in a subtle smirk.
you bite the inside of your cheek. "how come you havent said anything?"
"stop kid, you know why."
"cause you dont want any trouble? 'cause its not allowed? cause your just tryna do your job?" you answer boredly.
rafe nods. "mhm, exactly."
you take a step towards him, but rafe grabs your hips, stopping you from getting closer. he looks up at you with a dangerous expression, but instead of tell you to back off, he says, "what havent you said anything?"
your taken aback by the question being turned on you, but you dont falter. "cause of this," you say, looking down and refrencing his hands stopping you.
rafe looks too, but doesnt remove his hands, instead squeezing tighter. "yeah, well, this, is for a reason, kid."
you bite your lip. "ya know, im blankin on that reason right about now. how bout you?" you ask, you voice quiet as you felt the tenion between you two thickening by the minute.
your hands come down to his shoulder, smoothing over his suit jacket, squeezing his bicepts to feel the muscles underneath. your eye sigh follows your movments, his watching your face.
he takes a long breath, squeezing you waist harder. "princess..." he grumbles.
"stop me," you say, looking back at him, your voice quiet. "if you dont want this, tell me stop and i'll never bring it up again." your eyes held a bit of vulnerabilty, but were overpowered by the lust and desire you felt for him.
rafe almost looked pained - you knew you were putting him in a tough position, and it was a bit unfair, but you couldnt think of any other option. you knew you both wanted eachother, the only undecided factor was if you were going to act on it.
for a long moment he said nothing, and silence engulfed the two of you. after a while, his hands slid down to your hips, and his lips quirked up. "no one has to know, right?"
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before you knew it, rafe was stood up, towering over you as he held you face in his hands, kissing you roughly. you reciprocated his fierceness, moving to slide his suit jacket off his shoulders, revealing him in a long sleeved, white button up shirt. whilst his hands slide down to grab your waist, your hands slide up the back of his neck, running yours fingers up his short buzzed hair, pulling him closer to you.
he turns the two of you around before blindly sitting on the couch, bringing you down to straddle his waist. he lets out a pleasure filled hum before disconnecting your lips.
"is anyone gonna come looking for you?" he pants against your lips.
you quickly shake your head. "no, told them i'll be awhile."
he nods. "good," he says, as he leans back in, instantly resuming where you left off.
soon enough his shirt was off, and you were only left in your bra and panties. you got to your knees , smiling wickedly up at him, swaying side to side on your knees to adjust into a comfortable kneeling position. you hand hovered over his bed, toying with the buckle.
"can i?" you ask breathlessly, you voice filled with wanton need.
rafe nods, eyes filled with desire. "all yours."
you swallow at his words as you look down to undo his belt, tossing it to the side as you unzip his pants, sliding both it and his boxers down to his ankles.
you uncontrollably gasp, taking in his size as as your hands hover around his hard length. you look back up at him, batting your lashes up at him. "your so big, rafey."
he groans gutturaly, throwing his head back. "shit, princess. no idea how long i've been waiting for this." he says, letting out a breathy chuckle.
you bite your lip to conceal the wide smile fighting to break out, and instead push youself higher on your knees, bending over to hover you lips over his dick, spitting a string of saliva over his tip.
he sucks in a breath. "shiiiiiit. y'tryna kill me?"
you smile up at him, moving your perfectly manicure hand to begin to stroke up and down his cock. moving slowly st first. he looked down at the action, transfixed by the sight he had imagined so many times before.
you brought your pink lips down to him, smiling sweetly as you gently kissed his tip, watching as his stomach clenched and he held back a moan.
your wraps your plump lips around him, sucking up to move you lips arounds the sides of his dick, kissing up and around him. you stuck you tongue out to lick a long stripe from his base to this tip, wrapping back around his to suck.
you bobbed your head up and down, hollowing you cheeks so he could feel as much of you as possible. you didnt go for too long though, becuase not long after you started, rafe lifted you up from the ground and laid you across him, you upper body laying on the couch as your hips laid on his lap, ass perched in the air.
you gasp at the change of pace, trying to pull yourself up on your elbows to look back at him but you feel his strong hand pushing you back down.
"shh, just gonna getcha' ready f'me, s'that ok?" he asks, rubbing his hands across my lower back and down the curve of my ass. you nod eagerly, whining out a "yes" as he slides your panties aside, and slides his middle finger between my folds. you suck in a breath, arching your back up, pushing yourself closer to his finger.
rafe tsks, swatting your ass lightly, causing you to jump. "ah, none of that," he scolds lightly, rubbing the inflamed skin. "sorry," you murrmur softly, and he returns his finger between your folds. hes rubs arounds, collecting your wetness before pushing his finger in, earing a sharp gasp from you. he chuckles under his breaht. "fuck, didnt think you'd be this tight, holy shit."
you whine as he curls his digit, hitting that sweet spot perfectly. he moves in and out, your walls squeezing around him as he adds another finger. he curls both his digits now, moving them in and out of you, causing you to squirm.
he soon pulls your panties down, pulling you back up as you hurriedly unhook your bra and throw it somewhere in the room. you straddle him and in a rush, you grab his base and align your entrance with his tip, but before slipping down he grabs yours hips.
"fuck, no condom?" he asks breathlessly.
your face drops. "shit, i dont have any." you bite your lip. "im on birth control," you inform, honestly not really minding no protection, even if it wasnt prefered.
rafe cursed under his breath. "fuck, ok, thats fine. i'll pull out."
he pushes you down on his dick, and your lips form a wide "o". your walls constircted tight around him, your hands pushing down on his shoulders as you slowly lowered yourself down.
"r-rafe, oh my god," you moan softly as you reached his base. your eyes remained on his, the intimacy making the moment feel all the more hot.
rafe did most of the work, squeezing your hips as he lifted you up and down his cock, grunting out praises. it didnt take him long before he felt himself holding back, considering he had fantasized about this exact scenario before. you reached one of your hands down, you fingers circing you clit to further the pleausre, prompting you to throw your head back and let out a wanton moan. from there it didnt take you that long. you whimpered out pleads, not exactly sure what you were asking for, all you really knew was that it wasnt enough, and probably wouldnt ever be enough. you wanted to be as close to him as possible.
"fuck, m' almost there, pretty." he groans, lifting his hips to meet. you whimper, nodding along to his words. "same, fuck, im close."
at the confirmation, rafe speeds up his thrust, groaning as he felt your gummy walks clench around him. it was like you were trying to get him to cum inside you, which would be very bad.
you let out a series of curses that sounded so wrong coming from your sweet mouth as you released around him. your eyes stayed locked on his, your distance between your lips growing as you orgasmed, rafe slowing his movements down to guide you through it. as soon as you came back to reality, you lifteted yourself up and retured to your knees in front of him, you legs achign but you paid it no mind. you stuck you tongue out as you rapidly stroked his cock, finishing him up.
with the hotest groan you had ever head, he came in your mount, hot streaks painting your tongue white as you watch him throw his head back, eyes shut in pure bliss.
after a few seconds of catching his breath, he looked down at you, white still on you tongue as you waited for his attention. with a sweet smile, you swallow his seed, bed over to place a kiss on the inside of his thigh. "thank you," you murmur.
rafe chuckles breathily. "fuck, i should be thankin you, kid."
you grin up at him, before standing up shakily, rafe holding your hands to guide you.
you clear your throat. "so, you doin anything for the rest of the night? i was thinkin' bout a long shower and i might need the protection of my bodyguard." you bite your lip.
rafes lips tilt upwards. "y'know, i was thinkin the same thing, princess."
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ps: this is very lightly edited for now, i will be workshopping a bit tmrw. just wanted to get this out for you guys tonight 🤍🎀
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cxsmicmyeon · 2 years
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it’s a very cold morning so what better time to listen to universe
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certaimromance · 2 months
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࣪ ִֶָ☾. Cemetery Love.
Dean Winchester x Witch!reader
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Summary: Ever since you accidentally discovered that Dean had made a deal and that his days were numbered, you've been trying to make every one of them unforgettable without telling him why. According to him, you're getting crazier and crazier, and according to Sam, you're in love.
Words: 2,9k.
TW: mentions of death, dealings with demons, witches (normal warnings in the series). spoilers for season 2 and 3. angst. fluff. the winchester brothers being chaos lol. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).
Note: I love Dean and the Grumpy x Sunshine dynamic, so taking advantage of the sad plot of the deal and mixing it all up with confusion is one of my more chaotic ideas and I hope it turns out well haha.
♡ Enjoy! ♡
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You closed the bedroom door behind you, careful not to make any noise that might wake the two brothers who were still sleeping peacefully in their beds. You left the groceries on the table and began to arrange everything to make it a perfect breakfast, the coffees you had bought, the muffin for Sam and the cake for Dean, the wild flowers you had made appear in the new vase you had created with your magic to give the table more vitality, and as a final touch you snapped your fingers and the curtains opened to let in the sunlight.
While you checked that everything was perfect, you stared at them for a few seconds, and the serenity with which they slept made you wonder if all the bad things that followed them were real. So many times you wanted to believe that your mind had played tricks on you, that the first time you saw Sam die was an illusion and that being alive after that was as normal as your magic. You didn't want to believe anything else had happened until you heard Dean talking to him when they thought you couldn't hear and you knew his days were numbered and he didn't want you to know.
That day, you wanted to scream at him that he was an idiot for selling his soul like that, and worse, for not telling you to find a spell to fix it. But the desperation in his voice as he repeated to his brother that you would look at him differently if you knew, and that it scared him more than anything else in the world, silenced you for weeks as you put your secret plan into action. You wanted each day to be better than the last for him as you searched every known coven for ways to avoid his death at all costs.
“Good morning, you lazy pair. It's time to wake up.” You spoke after several minutes of being lost in thought, watching them stir in their beds.
“Shut up, please.” Was all Dean said, pulling the blanket over his head to keep out the sun streaming through the window.
“Good morning to you too. Is that coffee and muffin I smell?” Sam sat up in his bed and looked gratefully at the table. “You're the best, thanks.” He added with a smile.
The best way to start a good day was with a good breakfast, you believed, and you knew the younger Winchester agreed, and that a little cheerfulness, sponsored by a little magic, couldn't hurt in the midst of monsters and supernatural cases. However, the other brother had been in a bad mood lately, and your positivity irritated him, especially when it came in the morning. Of course, he didn't know that the cheerfulness was fake, just an attempt to make him a little happy.
“Let's go! The day is beautiful today, the sun is shining and the birds are singing, all that deserves to be seen.” You said, giving Sam a smile to authorize him to throw a pillow to his brother. “It's so nice.”
You took a sip of your coffee and heard a groan from Dean as he received the pillow his brother had thrown at him. You let out a small mocking laugh.
“You know what's nice? Sleeping and not getting hit in the face by flying pillows.” He replied, finally sitting up grimly in bed, his eyes still closed.
“Be thankful, Winchester. I brought you a nice breakfast.” You said as you sat down in one of the chairs in the small dining room in front of Sam.
Finally, he opened his eyes and scanned you and then the table. He couldn't deny that his stomach rumbled and his mouth watered at the sight of the pie you'd bought. However, nothing took away the feeling of irritability and the headache from not getting the thousand hours of sleep he needed to be well.
“How can you be so happy and look so good in the morning?” He asked after looking at you from head to toe and snorting because you were all dressed up and glowing while he was still in his pajamas.
You raised your shoulders and heard Sam teasing his brother. At that moment, your cell phone vibrated and a message from Bobby asking you to call him caught your attention. You tried not to make the slightest grimace so the brothers wouldn't notice and worry.
“You two take a shower and get something to eat. I'll take a walk and wait for you to join me later.” You got up from your chair and walked briskly to the door.
“What the hell is wrong with her?” Dean asked as soon as the door closed behind you and the creaking sound it made echoed in his head.
“Wrong? She bought us breakfast and she's happy, I don't see anything wrong.” Sam replied, frowning at his brother's attitude. “You're just in a bad mood.”
“I'm not.” Dean replied with a snort, getting out of bed and sitting down in the seat you had used earlier. “She's being weird.”
Until the last few weeks, your behavior had been very different, and the eldest Winchester had noticed it the most. In the past, you barely laughed at his bad jokes or cast spells that weren't meant to save a life on a hunt. Now you smiled so much he was surprised your face didn't hurt, and your spells of pure joy seemed endless. It was as if you had been injected with positivity and vitality.
“She's just happy, it's nice that one of us is.”
At his brother's comment, Dean snorted and began to eat his pie uncomfortably. It wasn't that it bothered him that you were happy, because that was the only thing he could wish for you, it was more a resentment that he couldn't be the same way.
“I think she's in love.” Sam said and took a sip of his coffee.
Automatically, Dean's disinterest in the conversation ended and all his senses kicked in.
“Why? By whom? Since when?”
“Suddenly she is happier, she doesn't stop texting and doesn't let go of her phone, she suddenly disappears and never says where she went, she is much more concerned about her appearance, I have seen her get up earlier to put on makeup and she has asked me a thousand times if she looks good, she rejects every boy who approaches her and she buys us rich food just for the sake of it. The other day I even heard her humming a love song. She is definitely dating someone.”
His brother's full explanation made Dean frown even more and his stomach churn, even the urge to eat was taken away. He didn't like that none of it made any sense, no matter how much it did.
“Or she just went crazy.” He said, putting aside the pie he had been devouring.
“Are you jealous?” Sam asked with some mockery in his tone.
“No. Shut up.”
“Come on, are you still in love with her?” The hunter asked with narrowed eyes, trying to decipher his brother's feelings, even if he only got bad looks from him. “Don't make faces, you told me so.”
And it was true, because months earlier, Dean had gotten drunk in a dive bar after you had almost been seriously injured on a hunt and decided to turn in early. Your absence, combined with the unlimited drinks that a fake card got him, made him finally spill his guts, even his darkest thoughts, to his brother. Most importantly, he confessed that he had been in love with you for years.
“Forget about that night, I was drunk.”
“Everyone says drunks tell the truth and I remember everything you said that night.” Sam remarked, taking a minute to mentally go back to that moment. “Oh Sammy help, I think she cast a love spell on me because I can't get her out of my mind. I don't know what to do anymore.” He put on a high-pitched voice to imitate him and remind him exactly of his words.
“I never said that.”
Sam raised an eyebrow at his denial.
“Well, maybe I did say some things.” He finally admitted with some embarrassment. “But it was stupid.”
“Having feelings for someone isn't stupid, Dean. It's normal, and it was bound to happen to you sooner or later.”
He sighed and could feel the tension in his body rise. “Stop.”
“You can talk to me and...” Sam insisted again, trying to give him some understanding and reassurance, unaware that he was doing just the opposite.
It was definitely too much and made the eldest Winchester feel like a foolish, lovesick teenager chasing an unrequited love thanks to his brother's words. The whole situation infuriated him to no end, it seemed stupid and out of place when he was literally closer to death every day.
“I'm. Not. In. Love. With. Her.” He said slowly, punctuating his voice with every word. He had already lost his patience and only wished that Sam would leave him alone. “How could I fall in love with someone like that? Lately she's been so irritating and stressful. I don't need her songs, or her perfect smile, or her to buy us that damn dream breakfast. We're hunters, and we don't need a witch.”
As soon as he finished speaking and looked at his brother, he heard the door to the room slam shut, throwing an excessive amount of wind at them, almost knocking him out of his seat. It was then that he knew he was completely screwed.
“That was...?” He tried to ask with his voice somewhat shaky.
Dean didn't really need an answer, he knew you had heard him.
“You're an asshole.” That was all Sam said before he got up and walked to the door with the intention of talking to you.
“I'll go.” He said, grabbing his brother's arm and stopping him before he could leave. “I messed up...now pray I don't turn into a frog.”
“It's what you deserve.” Was the last thing Dean heard from his younger brother before he left the room and went to find you.
The sunlight and the sound of birds singing was the first thing he noticed when he left the room, it almost made him smile knowing that you had been right. It didn't take him long to guess that you were in the woods behind the motel, it was the kind of place you always said you found relaxing and probably where you would go when you wanted to get away. He walked quickly and after a few minutes he found you sitting on a rock, staring blankly.
“Get out of here, Winchester.” You said as soon as you felt his presence and heard the distinctive sound of his footsteps, without even turning to look at him. “Or I'll turn you into a rabbit.”
Dean almost smiled, he knew you liked rabbits.
“You have to listen to me, I'm sorry. I didn't mean...that. I didn't mean what I said.” He tried to explain in a confused way, unable to fully express himself. “It was a mistake.”
“What was a mistake, what you said or that I heard you say it?” You replied with irony in your tone, still not turning to look at him because you knew it would hurt.
“It was all a mistake, I shouldn't have said any of that because I don't believe it.” He replied, taking a few slow steps towards you to touch your shoulder. “Maybe I think you're acting weird, but I...”
“You what, Winchester?” You turned and walked away from his touch swiftly. There was something burning inside you from what you had heard and it was releasing everything you had been holding back. “You're going to tell me you don't need a witch because you're a hunter? Well, let me tell you yes because I'm the only one doing anything to save you from the damn deal you made!”
Finally, you stood up from the rock and looked him straight in the eye. You could see him turn pale and frozen at your words.
“How...how do you know?”
“I heard you talking to Sam.”
Once again, a conversation you weren't supposed to overhear had ruined everything for him.
“What have you done?” His tone was serious, there was not a hint of playfulness left, only concern.
Your lips were fully sealed for several seconds before you spoke. “It doesn't matter anymore.”
All the events of the last while began to flash through Dean's mind with speed and began to make a different kind of sense. Every argument his younger brother had given him about you being in love with someone and doing everything for that person made sense, only that someone was him.
“Tell me what you've done.” He repeated coming dangerously close to you. “I'm serious. I know you did something.”
It was so obvious that you couldn't stand by and do nothing to save him. So why didn't he ask for your help in the first place?
“That's why you bought me so much pie, you know I'm going to die. And the calls you make so much...what did you do?” He began to recapitulate all your strange attitudes in his mind and it bothered him that he hadn't noticed it before. “Tell me you haven't done anything stupid, please.”
“Doing so much for you when you don't appreciate it or care is the only stupid thing I've ever done in my life.” You tried to walk past him and leave, but he stopped you.
“You're going to tell me what you did and you're going to forget it.” He said firmly, never letting go of you for fear that you would leave. It was stupid, because he knew you could leave with a single spell if you wanted to. “Speak.”
You looked into his eyes for a few seconds and knew he meant it. He seemed more concerned about your actions than his own situation, and that confused you. You had heard him say how annoying you were and that he didn't need you, but your heart still pounded at his touch. You knew that if you confessed to him that you had been looking for ways to save him for months without caring about the consequences, you would look desperate and vulnerable, you didn't like it, but it was the truth.
“You don't want to talk? Fine, I accept that, but then you're going to stop whatever it is you're doing.” He said after waiting several minutes for you to speak and getting no response.
“But...”
“No buts, I'm serious. I don't want you to do anything, I didn't even want you to know about this before.” Dean sighed tiredly, as if he didn't know what to do. “And again, I'm so sorry for what you heard, it's not the truth and I only said it because Sam was bothering me. I do need you and know it, but not in this.”
“Why? It's my decision.”
“Listen to me for once in your life.” He moved closer until you could almost feel his breath and put a hand on your cheek. “I can lose myself, but I can't lose you, and you have to understand that or I'll go crazy.”
You froze in place, not knowing what to do or say.
“Please forget about it and go back to being yourself.” He finished.
“How am I supposed to do that? What am I supposed to do without you?” You asked, feeling your voice crack as you spoke. “I don't want to say goodbye.”
Dean didn't say anything, he just hugged you tightly, hoping that for once in your life you wouldn't fight. To his surprise, you clung to him and your fear of him disappearing became apparent. You lost count of how many times you heard him whispering to you to let it go, to focus on the present, and that he was with you now, kissing your forehead and repeating that everything was okay.
“Will you turn me into a rabbit if I kiss you now? Be honest.” He asked as soon as he was able to pull away from you a little to look into your eyes.
“Honestly? No. Would I like to? Yes.”
One of his hands rested on your waist and the other tangled in your hair, pulling you closer to him and finally shortening the small distance that separated you. You saw him smile for a few seconds before he placed his lips on yours, letting you know that you had indeed lost your mind. His movements were soft and slow, something you had never imagined from him before, and it surprised you for the better. He seemed to be making an effort to be gentle and that, combined with the sweet taste the pie had left on his lips, had you hypnotized.
Time flew, and almost as if under a spell, you broke the kiss only when your human need for oxygen appeared. You could only guess that it had been a while because his lips were red and he seemed as agitated as you were. All you knew was that you had waited a long time for this and that the possibility of losing him was a thousand times more terrifying now.
“Part of me has been grateful all along to know that I will die before you.” He spoke, and you looked at him as if he were completely insane, because he probably was. “Really, don't look at me like that.”
“Sure, you always want to win and go first.” You rolled your eyes, tried to fake a laugh, and hugged him tighter.
“No, I just can't imagine life without you, my sweet witch.”
459 notes · View notes
sorrowsofsilence · 2 months
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the bet • bad omens
pairing: all bad omens members x fem!reader
words: 8.4K
warnings: 18+, fwb and lust, smut with each member (you are the bet lol)(penetration pls wrap it b4 u tap it, male!receiving, photos taken, fem!receiving, swearing, nicknames: pretty girl, princess, good girl, baby girl), jealousy, mentions of alcohol/smoking/edibles)
summary: each of them want you- so they decide to make a bet.
note: this is purely self indulgent and filthy lmao, i hope you enjoy.
PS. THIS IS A FANFIC ABOUT REAL PEOPLE IN FICTIONAL SCENARIOS. I AM NOT IMPLYING THIS IS HOW THESE PEOPLE ARE IRL OR THAT THIS SITUATION WOULD HAPPEN. IT IS FOR FANFIC PURPOSES ONLY!
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Folio finished licking the wrapper, rolling the buds to form a joint and twisting the end, smiling down at his handy work. Noah sat across from him on the couch, while Jolly opened a beer on the left, placing it on the coffee table.
Ruffilo sat next to Noah, the two sharing a bag of chips and rambling about their prior super smash bros session.
“I always win on little Mac,” Noah mumbled, still salty that Nicholas kicked his ass as Ganondorf.
“Do you?” Ruffilo laughed, shovelling a few chips in his mouth, “I think it’s time to leave little Mac behind.”
Noah sent him a glare in response, before eyeing Folio.
Nick lit the joint, taking a slow drag before blowing the smoke out his nose and leaning across the table to hand it to Noah.
It’s been a while since they got to enjoy each other’s company like this. With five consecutive days off until their next show, and only one day of travel between- this was the longest time to relax that they’ve had this whole tour.
Noah sucked the smoke into his lungs, before passing it to Nicholas, “Man, I’m so glad we finally have some time to catch up on sleep.”
All of them nodded their heads in agreement, sinking into their seats.
Jolly now held the joint between his fingers, rolling it between them, “I don’t think I’ve caught up… ever.”
Nick agreed, scrolling on his phone and hooking up to the room’s speaker, “I’d like to get out and enjoy the scenery too. Go for a walk like a normal human or some shit.”
Noah hummed in agreement, sitting up to take a sip of his water. The room became hazy in no time, the smell of weed pungent and stagnant within the small room; and the conversation jumped from topic to topic.
Eventually, each of them became quiet, only the music ringing between the walls anticipating Nicholas’ question.
“Where’s Y/N? Did she go to bed?”
Noah’s eyes flicked over to Folio, analyzing his expression before darting to Jolly, who stared at the can on the table.
Ruffilo’s gaze danced between the boys as they sat quietly until Jolly spoke.
“Nah. She goes to bed late. Probably busy doing something with Matt.”
His name echoed between each of the members, ringing in their ears with resentment. They loved Matt, but the amount of time he got to spend with the one girl that drove them all mad, made them question his motives.
Folio took a quick puff, passing it over the table to Nicholas, “You think they’ve hooked up?”
Jolly took a long sip of his beer, face scrunching subtly.
Noah shrugged, eyes rolling in annoyance at the thought.
“What,” Nick laughed, gaze narrowing in hinted understanding with his friend, “jealous?”
Noah coughed from the weed, and accusation, waving his hand in front of his face to help dissipate the everbuilding smoke; but the word hung heavy in the enclosed space.
Noah, Folio, and Ruffilo all tried to hide their envious glances towards the eldest member, who chugged the remainder of his drink before twisting the empty can in his fingers.
Anything to distract himself from the tension.
To say you affected the boys was an understatement. They were completely enamoured by you, obsessed with every smile, every laugh, every lingering touch.
You had joined their crew a year ago, partnering with Matt on sound mixing during their live sets. You were a phenomenal addition to their ever-growing team and a much-needed asset. However, your work ethic and talent weren’t the only things that had them engrossed.
Every time you sat next to one of them, or even looked in their direction- each was ready to fold, not afraid to fall onto their knees and succumb to your every desire. If only you asked them to.
And the one lucky bastard who got a sweet taste of your alluring, lascivious touch one night three months ago? The one who remained silent at Folio’s burdensome allegation?
Jolly kept his eyes on the can, playing with the metal tab as he fought the smile that twitched on his lips.
“Fucking lucky asshole,” Folio whined, throwing a pillow in annoyance at the Swede.
Jolly snickered, throwing it back at the drummer who barely dodged it with brows furrowed bitterly.
“It was one time,” Jolly rolled his head back, “and it’s not like we had sex.”
Noah grabbed the joint from Ruffilo, closing his eyes as he inhaled, “Yeah,” he exhaled, “but you got, and I quote, ‘the best fucking head I’ve ever had, hands down,’ end quote.”
Jolly didn’t even hide the wide smile that grew on his lips, earning another pillow being thrown at him, this time from Noah.
God, what the singer would give to have your lips wrapped around him. What the Nicks would do to have a peek at the secrets beneath your hoodie.
“I’d kill to have just one more night with her,” Jolly said.
“At least you had one,” Noah glared. He was jealous. They all were.
It was silent momentarily, before Folio sighed, speaking for the room, “Fuck, what I’d do to get a piece of that ass.”
Noah and Jolly nodded along.
“Same,” Noah ran a hand along his face, “That pretty little mouth of hers? Shit.”
Although Ruffilo agreed with everything they said, he needed to bud in, “Don’t like, objectify her.”
Noah immediately scoffed, turning his head to face his best friend, “Don’t act like you don’t think about what it would feel like getting your dick sucked by her.”
Nicholas shrugged, reaching into the chip bag, “I mean yeah, Y/N’s hot-” He wanted to continue to discuss her wonderful personality- but Noah interjected.
“See? Point proved,” He said, passing the blunt to Jolly.
“She’s got all of us dick whipped bro,” Nick shook his head, taking a swig of his beer, “and she’s simply just existing.”
Jolly laughed, sitting up in his chair, “I bet she’d suck my dick again. At least once more.”
Nicholas raised a brow, hiding his jealousy with a handful of chips.
“Yea?” Noah leaned onto his knees, elbows perched on either one, “I bet she’d let me rail her.”
The slanted smile that grew upon Jolly’s face said it all as Nick took the last puff of the blunt, before tossing it into the ashtray, “Hey- I bet I could do both.”
The three of them shared a glance, then turned to Ruffilo.
“I bet all that and more,” He said, head resting on his palm.
“How does one win then?” Noah began, raising a brow.
Jolly crossed his arms over his chest in contemplation, “first to do anything sexual wins.”
Noah shook his head, “No because you automatically have a one-up. First to get two consecutive nights with her wins.”
“Winner gets what exactly?” Folio asked, staring between the boys.
Nicholas sat back on the couch, shrugging his shoulders at his suggestion, “Dibs?”
A stare-down commenced before Jolly leaned forward to place his hand above the coffee table. Nick joined, his hand on Jolly’s before Noah and Nicholas followed, stacking their hands and signing away their pride.
“Ok, Bet.” Folio’s smirk lit up his face.
“Bet.”
=
You were completely oblivious to the deal behind the door as you knocked on the wood with your foot, arms full of various snacks. Matt stood next to you, carrying boxes of drinks as you waited for the door to open. Their talking quieted as the knob turned, the drummer nervously coughing. The smell of weed slapped you in the face as the dank haze that flowed out filled your lungs.
Folio’s eyes remained fixated as he held the door, a faint blush tinting his cheeks as you nodded gratefully at him, walking past and into the room. The immediate silence from the members as you headed to the counter made your chest tighten, nerves running to the ends of your fingertips.
You weren’t oblivious to the stares as each of the boys watched you place the items on the faux marble, their gazes lingering longer than usual. There was an odd energy in the room you couldn’t quite put your finger on, but when you turned back around each of them quickly distracted themselves with their drinks or snacks.
Flashing them a small smile you hid your overthinking thoughts. Maybe they didn’t want you here.
With a nervous breath, you swallowed that thought, reaching for the can Matt held out to you.
“Sorry that we took so long. We did a quick rehearsal for Friday, then ran to the store.”
Noah glanced at you quickly before averting his eyes, Nicholas doing the same. Folio sat back down on the couch, Matt plopping next to him with a grunt.
The room felt heavy as they continued to bounce silent words between each other, the challenge of the bet, unknown to you, sinking in their minds.
Matt took a sip of his drink, scanning each of his friends and their demeanour, “The fuck is wrong with y’all?” he said, scoffing with a raised brow, “Why are you acting like a bunch of fucking weirdos.”
Nicholas coughed, taking a swig of his drink before handing the bag of chips to Noah, who immediately shovelled a handful into his mouth as if avoiding the question.
“We were just having a deep conversation before, is all,” Jolly clicked his tongue, staring at you longingly before turning his attention to Matt, “How did the rehearsal go?”
Standing there awkwardly for a moment you swung your legs, a way to distract yourself, before looking at the taken seats. Tuning out Matt’s rambling you didn’t know where to sit, until you noticed the arm of the chair Jolly sat on.
You were decently close to Jolly- considering his cock was shoved down your throat during that one drunk escapade- but all things considered, you knew he wouldn’t mind if you sat next to him there.
As soon as you walked across the room you felt each of their gazes burning into you, watching every move you made. Jolly's brows raised in surprise as you approached him, and you hummed nervously before taking a seat on the hard arm of the chair.
Giving them all a curt smile you took another sip, staring at the carpeted ground.
“Surely that can’t be comfortable love.”
Jolly’s accent was thick, snapping you away from your thoughts.
“Here,” he tugged your wrist, motioning for you to sit on his lap, “Trust me I don’t mind.”
“Oh-” was all you could say, before allowing his hands to grab your hips, pulling you down onto him.
You chewed on the inside of your cheek, trying not to wiggle too much above the guitarist, but needing to get comfortable. His fingers still gripped your hips, moving with your shifting.
Nick’s eye-roll and Noah’s snarl went unnoticed, but you caught a glimpse of Nicholas’ clenched fist, his knuckles tightening momentarily.
“Are you sure?” You mumbled, shaking your head, “I’m okay on the arm, or even the floor-”
Jolly laughed, the melodic sound leaving the hairs on your arm to stand. His enigmatic personality always left you nervous, “I am more than sure.”
Matt picked up the conversation again, the boys finally joining at a more normal pace; but your mind felt foggy as one of Jolly’s hands crept from your waist, down to the top of your thigh.
He stilled his movements for a few minutes, your chest tightening.
“Maybe we can go to an aquarium, or-” The thought was cut short, breath caught in your throat once you felt Jolly’s inked fingers rubbing up and down your skin, slowly reaching to squeeze the inside of your thigh.
With your gaze kept forward you took another sip, “-a movie?”
Matt’s eyes wandered to Jolly’s hand, squinting in confusion momentarily before standing up to grab one of the snacks you picked from the counter.
“I’m down for whatever,” the blonde said, tossing you a bag of candy.
Smiling at him gratefully, you opened the bag and took a piece, using it to distract you.
“I like the sound of a movie,” Noah said, staring at Folio as he spoke. He tried to hide the ever-growing jealousy in his chest, “Haven’t been to one with people in forever.”
“Why is it you like going alone again?” Folio asked, eyes locked on Noah, shielding his vision from Jolly.
Noah laughed, “No handjobs, just me and my vitamin water.”
You tried listening to their conversations but felt the swede shift beneath you, slowly guiding your hips in a circular motion.
Jolly’s growing arousal pushed against you from beneath, leaving your stomach swirling at his advancement. You crossed your legs in an attempt to squeeze your desire, but he knew. He knew the effect he had.
The way his fingers kept kneading at your thighs left your heart pounding.
As the boys began dragging on about Elden ring, Jolly adjusted to whisper in your ear, “You forgot something in your room, right?”
Heat rose to your cheeks, goosebumps adorning your skin at your growing lust. All you could do was nod before standing up, taking another quick sip and tossing the can into the bin.
The conversation stopped as you walked toward the door, Jolly standing up from the chair.
“Where are you going?” Nicholas asked you, biting his lip to distract himself from the envy that grew in his chest. They all knew.
“I just- forgot something in my room.”
Once you left all eyes turned to Jolly, the smug smile on his face radiant in satisfaction.
Folio stood up, pointing an accusative finger, “You just- I- that’s cheating.”
Jolly grabbed the hair tie off his wrist, pulling his dark strands into a quick bun as he walked toward the door.
Turning to face his competitors, his best friends, he smiled, “Don’t hate the player. Hate the game.”
=
Jolly’s mouth moved with yours as he held you on top of the desk in your room. You didn’t think you’d be in this position with him again, but you didn’t mind.
“Do you think about that night often?” He asked, hands holding your hips in place.
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about your previous night with him, but you always tried to push the thoughts away. You didn’t think anything would happen again, and you knew deep down you couldn’t continue anything with him.
You liked him, sure, but weren’t committed to the idea of a relationship.
One more night wouldn’t hurt, right?
“Sometimes,” You whispered, hands clasped around the back of his neck, “do you?”
Pulling you off the desk he held you close to him, lips devouring yours for a second longer, “More than I probably should.”
His admission made your knees weak. You didn’t care if they were only words of infatuation, you loved the effect you had on him.
Taking your hand you tugged on his belt, letting your hand rub along his covered erection. Jolly’s immediate whimper made you smile against his lips.
Allowing yourself to kneel before him you pulled the leather apart, undoing the zipper.
He was sensitive to every touch, eyes never leaving you, absorbing every movement you made. Knowing this you couldn’t help but tease him, leaning in to graze your teeth over himself in his underwear.
Looking up at the swede through your lashes he watched, lips parted in need as you pressed your tongue against the tip, still using the cotton as a barrier.
Jolly’s fingers ran through the side of your hair, tangling in the strands as you took a finger, gliding it between the hem of his boxers. He shook his head, giving you an exasperated smile. Finally tugging down the fabric you ran your tongue along the length, swiping along the head before trailing back down.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” He breathed, the teasing smile causing him to lick his lips. You were titillating to him.
“Why not give you something more to think about?” You shrugged, taking your hand to hold him, before wrapping your mouth around him. The immediate relief on Jolly’s face made you chuckle along his cock, the taste of his pre-cum salty against your tongue.
Swirling around the tip you swallowed him, taking everything he offered as best you could before pulling away, allowing the string of saliva to follow.
You twisted your hand around, using your saliva to assist your movements before taking him into your mouth again, sucking and pressing your tongue along the base.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his other hand replacing yours on his cock, holding it up to your mouth.
You clasped your hands behind your back, only using your mouth as you bobbed along, being sure to keep your eyes on him.
He watched you with furrowed brows, the crease in his forehead evidence of his growing orgasm. His hips slowly rutted into your mouth, matching your movements in a synchronized wave.
“Shit princess, you’re so fucking hot.”
His encouraging words made your face warm, cock buried in your throat as you gagged along him.
“let me take a picture of you. A memoir if I may?”
You pulled off of him, using your hand momentarily as you thought, “Only if you keep it to yourself.”
Jolly smiled, reaching for his phone on the desk, holding it above you, “Of course.”
Using your hand you stroked him as you sucked, until Jolly spoke.
“Just your mouth,” He whispered, “That’s it.”
You held your hands behind your back once again, being sure to look up into the camera.
Jolly continued with praises until you felt him stiffen, eyes fighting for closure.
A deep groan crawled from him as he held you along his cock, release hitting the back of your throat. Closing your eyes you swallowed all of him, sticking out your tongue
“That’s a good girl,” He ran his fingers along your scalp.
Standing up you helped him with his pants, pulling them back over his waist and putting his belt back together. Jolly leaned into your body, holding your jaw as he kissed you once again.
“Let me take care of you,” He said between kisses, and you pulled away smiling.
Looking at the clock on the nightstand it was well past 2 am, and you needed some sleep before travelling tomorrow.
“I love sucking you off, so don’t worry about it,” You said slowly, leaning in to give him a quick kiss, “but I need sleep. Rain check?”
Jolly’s eyes flashed with something you missed, fighting back a cocky grin, “of course. you know where to find me.”
Once the guitarist made it back to his hotel room, the boys were still sitting in their spots, glaring daggers towards him.
“One down. One more to go,” Jolly said, licking his bottom lip in accomplishment as he thrust into the air, showing off.
“Dick,” Noah mumbled, to which Matt stared at his friends, confused once again.
“I’m missing something,” The blonde shook his head.
=
After hours of travelling, you were exhausted, the crew pulling up to the next hotel. Things were going smoothly until checking in at reception.
“What do you mean we’re short a room?” Matt said to the lady, clearly confused, “We’ve had this booked for weeks.”
“I’m sorry but you only had three rooms in the original booking.” The woman was sympathetic, hands folded in front of her, “There aren’t any more available but we can put a cot in one of the rooms.”
The one thing you respected about the boys was how they always gave you a room to yourself; but it would be ok to share for a night, wouldn’t it?
The boys looked at each other, before shrugging.
“I guess that’s fine,” Matt said.
Looking at them you scratched your arm nervously, “I can share my room, I don’t mind.”
“With who?” Folio asked quickly, each of them turning to watch you intensely.
You almost laughed at how weird they were being, before shaking your head, “Uh I don’t care.”
Quickly glancing at Jolly, you knew it would be a bad idea if you two were together.
So you looked at the brunette next to him, his thick brows raising in surprise once he met your eyes.
Nicholas stared at you, blinking rapidly before calming his composure. He wanted to share a room with you so bad. But he knew the others would too. Would you pick him?
When his name fell off your lips he almost yelled, ready to pump a fist into his chest then and there.
“Uh, Ruffilo? Care to share?”
The sweet boy was always one of your favourites, even if you tried to avoid bias between them. He’d be a harmless partner, right?
The way his face flushed a deep maroon made you smile nervously, afraid you put him on the spot.
“Y-yeah, that’s fine with me.” He peered at Noah, who stared at the ground, “That ok with you Noah?”
“Sure man,” Noah’s curt grin made your stomach swirl as his gaze flicked at you, unspoken words lingering in his gaze.
Grabbing a keycard you nodded at Nicholas, who trailed behind you.
You didn’t see how he glanced back at his friends, holding his fingers up in an ‘L’ on his forehead.
Heading various scoffs behind you, you turned to raise a brow, “What is with you guys lately?”
They all shook their heads as everyone entered the elevator, leaving you to eye Matt who just shrugged, looking as confused as you.
“Tired,” Noah said, his eyes lingering on your figure for a moment too long.
“Hungry,” Folio said, licking his lips as he peeled his eyes away.
Jolly didn’t even glance at you, his face neutral- an attempt to hide his disappointment you chose Ruffilo over him.
He was this close to winning the bet.
Once you got to the room you held the card against the sensor, waiting for the door to click. Opening it, you and Nicholas stood in the doorway, your chest tightening as you entered.
“I don’t mind joining them on a cot-” Ruffilo began, but you gave him a shrug.
There was only one bed, meaning the two of you would be sharing.
“It’s alright with me if it’s alright with you.”
Nicholas only smiled, his nervous wading back as he placed his suitcase into the room.
“I guess we should get ready to go to dinner?”
=
Getting back to the room was a blessing and a curse. You were tired, but also nervous as Nicholas trailed behind you.
As you two got ready for bed you tried to avert your eyes while Ruffilo unbuttoned his shirt in the corner, the brunette glancing at you every so often.
Coughing shyly, you averted your eyes as you grabbed your change of clothes, sliding into the washroom to change.
It felt almost scandalous to be wearing such small shorts and a thin tank top, but you pushed that away and reminded yourself that it was just one night. It would be fine.
Ruffilo sucked in a breath when you walked out, and you tried to hide your staring as he stood there shirtless and in his shorts. Your eyes darted back to his chest, following the lines of his tattoos.
“I hope it’s ok I don’t wear a shirt, I run warm,” He said restlessly as he sat on the edge of the bed. His leg bounced up and down and you suddenly felt bad you asked him to stay here. Maybe he was more uncomfortable with this than you had thought.
“Nicky you don’t have to share with me-”
“No!” He stood up, hands out in reassurance. His reaction made you chuckle as his face warmed again, shaking his head, “I mean, no it’s okay. I- I want to stay here with you.”
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” You said, arms folded across your chest.
“You don’t- I-” He stood there, tucking his hair behind his ear, “I just- You make me nervous, but that’s not a you problem.”
You chuckled again, turning off the main room light, and clicking on the nightstand lamp, “I make you nervous?”
Crawling into your side of the bed, Nicholas followed, tucking himself beneath the covers on the edge of his side, afraid to be any closer to you.
“Why do I make you nervous?” You asked, pulling down the hotel room pillows, and lying on your side to face him.
The bass player followed your movements, facing you as he got comfortable. He closed his eyes, contemplating his words before speaking his confession.
“You’re mesmerizing, Y/N. Everything about you makes my heart pound.” He said softly, his words sinking deep within your skin.
All you could do was stare at him, his grey eyes flickering between your own, waiting for any response.
“Really?” Was all you could say, your stomach swirling with butterflies as you bit back a smile.
Nicholas nodded, hands beneath his head as he watched you with a shy grin.
Your heart began to race as you hid your face in the pillow.
The evening was spent sharing random stories and laughing at each other’s jokes. You couldn’t stop smiling as you and Nicholas turned off your lamps, rolling to face away from each other and letting sleep take over.
However, your mind raced with a chest warm with admiration, before finally falling into a deep slumber.
Waking up you felt a set of strong arms wrapped around your waist, body pressed against your back.
Your limbs were entangled with Nicholas’ body fitting against yours; however, something else caught your attention.
Nicholas’ body was stiff as you accidentally moved your hips into him, trying to pull away slowly- but his grip on your torso tightened, holding you against him.
His cock pressed into you, causing your heart to pound.
God, this would be so wrong, wouldn’t it?
Ruffilo’s hands gripped your hips as he rolled into you slowly, breath brushing across your neck.
Closing your eyes you smiled, contemplating whether to do this or not; but what’s the harm in a quick morning fuck?
You pushed back against him, rutting back and forth along him teasingly. The groan that left Nicholas’ chest caused your body to warm, tingling from the excitement as he squeezed the skin beneath your tank top.
“I want you so bad Y/N,” He whispered against your ear, lips grazing down the lobe, toward your neck.
“Then take me,” you breathed, taking your hand and holding his thigh, pulling him closer toward you.
Ruffilo’s lips attached to your neck, teeth biting along the delicate skin. You allowed him to suck, marking you.
Nicholas hooked a finger in your shorts, pulling them down your legs swiftly as he still spooned you. Taking his inked fingers he dipped them between your thighs from behind, running them thoroughly along your folds.
His touch made you squirm, buzzing from the thrill of him.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he said quietly, a mix of awe and lust as he used your arousal to lubricate his erection.
“I woke up with your cock pressed against me, what do you expect?” You laughed as he lined up to your entrance, pushing just the tip inside.
You cursed as the brunette held your hips once again, nails digging into the skin as he sunk further into you, right to the hilt.
Allowing your body to adjust you moaned at the feeling of Nicholas taking over your body. His thrusts were quick as he held your hips, fucking you from behind as you two lay on the bed.
“Oh my god,” he groaned, his infatuation with your pussy leaving you a smiling mess as he continuously pounded into you, hands worshiping your skin, “you feel so fucking good.”
The lewd sounds that left the both of you filled the room, and once Nicholas reached between your thighs, fingers pressing into your core with a circular motion, you almost screamed at his touch.
You sighed, fingers gripping the white sheets in desire as he thrust deeper.
“I’m not going to last long,” He breathed, leaning in to bite your shoulder as he held you close. His admission pushed you over the edge, his fingers pressing into you, cock buried deep.
With the scream of his name, you clenched around his body. Nicholas pulled out, stoking himself quickly as his release coated your ass, the warmth making you jolt.
The two of you lay there, chests heaving. Nicholas watched you in awe as you turned, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, and heading into the bathroom to shower.
Your mind spun as your body came down from the orgasm, as Nicholas sat up in bed, high-fiving himself.
One he was just happy to even get a taste of your body, but two, he was officially on par with Jolly.
=
“Point for this guy.” As he approached the boys at breakfast, Ruffilo pointed his thumbs toward himself proudly.
You were busy in the hotel room packing a backpack for the aquarium, and Nicholas knew he had to gloat before you overhead.
“No fucking way,” Folio groaned, while Noah ran a hand down his face.
Nick and Noah felt defeated, both still needing at least one encounter to be even close to winning this bet.
Jolly folded his arms over his chest, sinking into the wooden chair at the breakfast table, “You’re just lucky she picked you to share the room. I would’ve already been calling dibs by now if it wasn’t for that.”
“Sure,” Ruffilo rolled his eyes, “but she picked me!” With a radiant smile, he dug into his breakfast, the eggs tasting even better than normal.
You and Matt walked into the room, stopping at the table. Nicholas met your eyes momentarily, both of you flushing as you recalled this morning’s events.
“To the aquarium?” Matt asked, snapping you out of the trance, and Ruffilo shovelled down the rest of his food.
Folio ran a hand through his hair. It was now or never, and he didn’t want to lose.
Standing up he adjusted his shirt before approaching you, wrapping a hand around your wrist and leading the two of you out of the restaurant.
“Where are we-” you began as the drummer tugged you behind him, pressing a finger up to his lips to shush you.
His hand was warm as it held you taught against his side, pulling you out one of the back doors.
“Nick, where are we going?” You asked but moulded into his touch, allowing him to pull you freely.
He didn’t say anything as you two made it outside before pulling out a small bag. Two square gummies sat inside the plastic as Folio tauntingly held it up.
“Let’s get high,” He said, letting go of your arm and opening the bag, holding the gummy out to you.
“What?” You laughed, raising a brow.
“Trust me. It’s so fucking fun at aquariums.”
Chewing on your cheek you smiled, “Alright Folio. Bet.”
His eyes clung to yours for a second too long at the word that left your lips.
The two of you took the edibles and you savoured the taste of the berry flavour.
“And now what?” You asked.
Folio shoved the bag back into his pocket, the devilish smirk on his lips eating you alive, “Now we wait.”
=
The two of you were non-stop giggling in the car towards the end of the drive, as Nick reached for your hand, pulling you out of the vehicle.
It felt like a little secret between the two of you, yet everyone in the car glared towards the youngest member.
It wasn't very busy at the aquarium, with only a few people strolling around the different enclosures. You and Folio were glued to each other’s sides, laughing at every single thing until it started driving the rest of the boys crazy.
“What is wrong with you?” Matt asked, pulling you aside. His annoyance mixed with concern made you smile, admiring his care for you.
You laughed, unable to take him seriously as you placed a hand on his shoulder, “Me and Folio took an edible,” the snort that came from your lips made you giggle even harder, Nick covering his mouth in the background, “Sorry Matty, I can’t stop laughing.”
“Jesus,” Matt laughed, shaking his head in amusement, “Why am I not surprised?”
The blonde just smiled down at you warmly, and you pulled away from his interrogation as Folio dragged you toward a tank of angel fish.
“Oh my god, look,” you said excitedly, holding Nick against you as you pressed your face against the tank.
“It’s more fun watching them swim around this way, isn’t it?” Folio chuckled, and you nodded in agreement.
The two of you were attached at the hip, running ahead of everybody and taking in everything you could see.
You were too absorbed with Nick and the Fish to notice the annoyed grumbling that came from Nicholas, Noah, and Jolly
Once you got to the otters, there was a chance to walk outside.
You and Nick followed the wooden pathway to the outside enclosure, taking a seat on a bench.
The peak of the high felt like it was wearing off, and you felt yourself getting a little sleepy.
Resting your head on Folio’s shoulder you closed your eyes, still smiling as the sun beamed against your skin.
“This has been so fun, Nick,” you whispered.
Folio reached for your hand, holding it between his as he placed his head on top of yours, “it really has been.”
Pulling away you sat up, staring at the otters jumping and swimming in the water, until you felt a set of fingers gently reach under your chin.
Following Nick’s direction, he turned you to face him, leaning in slowly.
His heart was pounding so fast that he almost felt scared. What if he didn’t want this to be part of some bet? What if he wanted this to be real?
The closer he got to your lips, the more nervous he felt. This was real for him.
You didn't pull away from him, allowing the drummer to press his mouth against yours. The kiss was delicate and soft, leaving your limbs tingling- a mixture of your inebriation and excitement.
It felt wrong to be kissing him- especially after everything that happened with Jolly and Nicholas- but you couldn’t stop.
His lips were so soft, his kiss growing hungrier as he became filled with need. He reached his hand up to cup your cheek, and you pulled away from him, face warm as your fingers touched your lips.
“Not in public,” you said, giggling as he almost pouted.
“There’s no one out here at least,” Folio whispered, leaning in teasingly, nose touching yours.
Biting your bottom lip you laughed, pressing your forehead against his as you closed your eyes, inhaling the fresh air.
“Ok, then where?” you met his ochre eyes, the deep brown almost enchanting as he watched you longingly.
Folio immediately stood up, eagerly holding onto your hand.
Walking together he pulled you inside, only for you to be stopped by Noah and Matt.
“Whatcha doing?” Noah asked, eyes darting between the two of you. You stared at him, swallowing nervously. You knew that he knew, and it made your ears turn hot.
“Snack,” Folio said, giving them a thumbs up.
“Oh, can we join?” Matt asked, and Noah nodded quickly.
“Yeah, that sounds like a great idea,” Noah said, watching you now.
“Uh,” you began, but Nick tugged on your wrist, pulling you away from them.
“Nope! Bye!” Folio said, sticking out his tongue at Noah, dragging you with him.
You began giggling once again, the high coming in waves. Nick looked around the place until he saw a single bathroom.
Dragging you inside he locked the door behind the two of you, turning to pin you against the frame.
Your laughter stopped as he loomed over you, your heart matching his pace as he kissed you again, tongue pressing against your bottom lip.
With a hand on your chin and a hand on your hip, he held you there, his hips holding you to the door.
You moaned into his mouth, allowing your fingers to trail up into his hair, running them through the gelled strands.
“You have no idea what you to do me, do you?” Nick breathed between kisses, the hand on your hip reaching further down to grip your ass, “To all of us?”
Swallowing his words as he spoke, your chest tightened. Three boys in the last two days? Where was all this coming from?
You weren’t oblivious to their stares or their advances- but it was odd that all of a sudden it felt like a challenge for them to take you on.
And really? You didn’t mind at all.
Folio’s fingers gripped your chin harder, holding you to his mouth as his tongue pressed against yours, before pulling back.
“I won’t let you forget me.” He said, a suggesting smile radiating above you as you looked up at him.
Your body almost vibrated at his words, anticipation ringing in your ears as he led you to the counter, lifting you to sit on the edge.
All you could do was watch as your limbs tingled, and Nick pulled your jeans down your thighs, leaving you exposed in your underwear.
Folio kissed you briefly again before trailing kisses down your neck, tugging your t-shirt down to kiss your shoulder. You lifted the shirt for him, allowing his tongue to dip between the valley in your chest and down your stomach until he was kneeling before you.
Your breathing already felt erratic as you watched him smile up at you, his eyes lidded in lust as his fingers tugged your panties to the side, sinking between your folds.
Nick ran his fingers along your arousal for a moment, before sticking them into his mouth, tasting you.
“Fuck baby girl,” he moaned, positioning his hand at your entrance, “you taste so good.”
He pushed into you, curling and twisting until he found the spot that made your mouth open from pleasure. Bet and all, he wanted to make you feel good- to remember this moment despite who wins.
His attentiveness made your stomach swirl as he kissed the inside of your thigh, trailing towards your desire. Nick pressed his tongue against your clit, flicking momentarily to match the pace of his fingers, before latching his mouth around you.
You covered your mouth with your hand, afraid of the ungodly sounds that fought from your chest.
As your head fell back into the mirror you couldn’t help but rut your hips into his mouth, seconds away from an orgasm as the tension in your abdomen built.
“Ohmygodnick,” you mumbled behind your hand, brows furrowed as your eyes squeezed shut and he ate you out feverishly.
You hadn’t noticed how Nick’s other hand held his erection free from his pants, jerking himself as he devoured your body, hungry for your release and his.
You cried his name as his tongue pressed against you firmly, body shaking against his mouth as you reached your orgasm, your hand pulling his hair.
Nick was seconds behind, the sound of your muffled moans pushing him to his climax as he came all over the floor and his hand.
Pulling his mouth from your body he smiled up at you, lips wet from your arousal. He stood up, and you noticed his mess, smiling shyly at him.
“That’s so hot,” you whispered, causing him to laugh, the two of you now in a fit of giggles.
Folio helped clean you up, then himself, before holding you in a hug.
Melting into his chest you wrapped your arms around him.
“Whatever happens, just know how much I care about you alright?” He said, his words lingering.
=
Two days later the boys were sitting on the bus, almost bored. As much as they loved the days off, the anticipation of the next show always ate away at their nerves.
Jolly and Nicholas were watching YouTube videos, as Folio sat upside down, chucking a rubber ball at the wall.
Noah’s ears rang with each throw, the thunk on the wall driving him crazy.
“Can you cut it out?” Noah mumbled, glaring at Folio.
Nick stopped, raising an accusative brow, “What’s got your panties in a twist?”
Folio knew, but didn’t want to say anything- but Jolly spoke for him.
“He’s just pissed he hasn’t gotten a chance with Y/N yet. Admit it, Noah, you’re gonna lose.”
Noah held up his middle finger, causing Jolly to chuckle.
“Better make a move sooner than later. Even I think Folio’s got a better chance at winning, as annoying as it is.”
Those words made Noah’s skin crawl as Folio beamed beside him, throwing the ball against the wall once again.
Noah had noticed how you’ve been staring at Folio ever since the aquarium, and shit, everyone but him.
The singer stood up, frustration evident on his face and as the ball bounced back toward Nick’s hand, Noah reached over, pushing it across the bus.
“Hey!” Nick snapped, but no one else said anything as Noah left, slamming the bus door.
You sat with Matt outside, sharing memes as you heard the door, an angry Noah storming out.
Sharing a look with Matt you stood up, watching as the Brunette folded his arms in frustration as he paced.
“Noah?” You approached him warily, worry evident in your tone.
His eyes softened when they met yours, but he still held his own body.
He was frustrated, and for what? They all bet on this, and all agreed.
However, the jealousy was starting to get to him, and he didn’t know how much more he could take.
Standing in front of him you felt sad, he looked conflicted, and you didn’t know how to help.
“I’m fine,” Noah said sharply, inhaling quickly.
“You’re clearly not fine,” you said, reaching out to place a gentle hand on his arm. He melted into your touch, face flushing at your care.
“I just need a distraction,” he said, mostly to himself. It was true.
He wanted a distraction from you, but deep down he also wanted you to be the distraction.
You looked at the time on your phone as it was still early in the afternoon, “Want to go see a movie?”
=
There wasn’t much to offer in the theatre, considering it was a random weekday. You decided to let Noah choose the movie, considering you were here for him.
The brunette purposefully picked some bullshit boring movie that nobody would book a ticket to since it was one of the last days it would be showing.
Walking into the theatre Noah pushed you up the stairs by the small of your back, the feeling of his hand lingering even as you sat down at the back of the theatre.
Nobody else was in there, and you suddenly felt jittery that it was just the two of you.
You and Noah sat in silence as the movie began, almost afraid to speak to each other.
The movie was immediately boring, and you kept watching the way Noah nervously rubbed the tips of his thighs, his inked fingers rubbing along his sweatpants.
Eventually, the singer grew the courage to place that hand on your thigh, making you jump slightly from the contact.
Slowly his hands crept up and down your thigh, warmth radiating off of his skin- but you froze as the words came from his mouth.
“I know you fucked all my friends.”
Something about the way he said it made the hairs on your neck stand up, and he turned to look at you, the movie illuminating his features.
His eyes were dark, as they bore into you, “You saving the best for last?”
Your mouth ran dry, unable to respond as he patted his lap, holding your hand to tug you along.
Unsure why you followed, you did, and facing him you placed a leg on either side of his hips, sitting in his lap.
Noah let his hands squeeze your hips before roaming up your body, kneading against your clothes before reaching your Neck.
He lightly pulled you down to his face, mouth inches from yours. His breath was warm as he spoke.
“I bet I can make you cum three times in this theatre.”
Shivering at his words you let him take control. His behaviour and promise alone almost pushed you to the edge, and you didn’t doubt his promise for one second.
His lips brushed yours, but he didn't dare give you a taste as he dipped his fingers into your waistband, sliding them past your underwear and right along your arousal.
He only chuckled at the feeling of your soaked core, knowing that you’d fold the second he put two fingers inside of you.
Noah did just that, pressing his thumb against your clit as his inked fingers sunk into your body.
As he pushed his fingers deeper, thumb rutting in rhythmic circles, he held you up by your neck.
“That’s it, pretty girl,” Noah praised, your mouth agape from the pleasure.
Your body clenched around his fingers and in no time, you cried as he pushed you to your first orgasm.
“Fuck, maybe I can get four in if it's that easy,” he grinned, pulling his fingers away from your core and toward your mouth.
He only nodded toward you, prompting you to take his fingers into your mouth, licking your mess and gagging on them as you did so.
The brunette’s smile was radiant as he watched proudly, before pushing you onto your knees, between his legs.
You knew what he wanted, and Noah had to stop himself from cumming right then and there at the sight of you between his thighs, the place he’s dreamed of many nights.
Pulling down his sweats eagerly, you gripped his cock, leaning in to lick up from the base. You wasted no time in sucking along him, swirling your tongue and bobbing down his body.
“Fuck,” he whispered, pushing you down, thrusting his hips into your throat.
You coughed, pulling back up before sliding down again, using your hand to assist with what you couldn’t take.
“Touch yourself,” he said, sharing a slutty smile as he fucked your mouth, “use your fingers to cum while you suck my cock.”
Obeying him, you took your fingers and found the familiar spots along your desire, pleasing yourself how you knew best to Noah’s words.
It was almost embarrassing how much saliva emanated from your mouth and onto his arousal as you devoured him.
“You’re such a good girl. Jolly was right, you do give the best fucking head.”
Moaning at his words you closed your eyes, gagging on him once again as you worked yourself to another orgasm. Knowing that the boys talked about you made your ears warm, and you were sure Noah would then be talking to them about this.
With one final thrust, you pulled your mouth away from Noah, breath catching in your throat as you came again.
Noah smiled down at you with pride.
Standing up he spread his thighs, stoking himself as he made you turn around with a finger.
“I want to watch your ass bounce on my cock. So turn.”
His hands guided your hips down onto his arousal, relishing in the feeling of how hard he was.
Noah’s groans were erotic as he pushed you up in down, letting you ride him.
He then held you up, using his hips to thrust from underneath momentarily.
Your third orgasm was approaching, the sound of Noah’s whimpers and curses causing you to clench around him in need.
“Fuck don’t do that, I’ll cum,” he hissed, pulling out and pushing you to rest over the railing in front of you. Noah stood behind you now, holding your hips as he thrust into you mercilessly.
He leaned forward, pressing his chest to your back “Let me take you on a proper date tomorrow night, make you mine, yeah?”
Moaning his name you clenched around him and let your body convulse along his cock, letting your third orgasm wash down each of your limbs.
Noah’s breathing was erratic as he pushed you to your knees, holding your chin to his arousal as he stoked himself to his climax.
You took the tip in your mouth, swallowing his release with need, sucking until the brunette pushed you away from the sensitivity.
The two of you stood in front of each other, breathing heavily as your eyes were fixated on each other.
There was no going back now, each of the boys had confessed their need, leaving you a withering mess.
Noah held the back of your head, pulling you in for one more needy kiss, before grabbing your bag for you and pulling you down the stairs.
He was silent on the walk back to the bus, both of you hand in hand.
Your mind raced with what-ifs, memories of each boy taking over the next.
When you two finally made it back, you heard Matt yelling from inside.
“Ya’ll have a bet for her and didn’t even fill me in? Fucking pricks, I woulda had the best shot outta all of yall.”
Looking over at Noah, he ran his fingers through the onyx strands with a nervous smile.
“A bet Noah? Really?”
He nodded, and then the bus door opened, revealing the other boys.
They cursed under their breath as you folded your arms, shaking your head in amusement.
“So who won?” You pried, eyes lingering on each of them for a moment.
“Definitely not fucking me,” Matt mumbled, annoyed.
“I don’t think any of us did,” Ruffilo spoke slowly, looking at each of his friends.
Rocking on your toes you chewed back a smile, “Then I bet I can make you do it all over again.”
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tags:
(i tagged everyone since this has all the boys in it :) if you want on or off the taglist, please let me know!
@thefallennightmare @xxkittenkissesxx @deathblacksmoke @nyxisnotok @anameunmusical
@sitkowski @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86
@whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13
@somewhere-diamond @auratheopossumwitch @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @silentglassbreak
@darkmxgician @sprokat @thatchickwiththecamera @reyadawn @xserenax-13 @foliosgirl
@philomenie @illmakeyousaywow @nyxisnotok @wh0th3h3llisbucky @into-the-grey
400 notes · View notes
mothhball · 7 months
Text
Positive Reinforcement
Pairing | Jonathan Crane x delusional!Reader (fem)
Warnings | 18+ SMUT, DUB-CON (bc Jon is playing a little hard to get), L-BOMB, fingering, oral sex (both m + f receiving), deepthroating, brief breathplay, mutual body worship, p in v sex, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, overstim, clothed male/naked female, threats of drugging, violence mention, reader is a little unhinged
Summary | You’re convinced he’s the one, but you’ve been causing nothing but trouble for Jonathan. Maybe it’s time to switch up the strategy.
Words | 6.2k
Notes | FILTH. Jon may be ooc, whoops. Honestly, this is very self-indulgent and was a struggle to write lol
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Arkham certainly has its charms. From the noisy, dark hallways to the scratchy and shapeless patient uniforms - there’s something for everyone here. As far as you’re concerned, you’re here for no reason. At least no serious reason. You’re a lover and a fighter. Literally just a girl. Even though the GCPD certainly didn’t agree when they arrested you for attempted murder, assault, breaking and entering, and a bunch of other rude accusations.
Your ex broke your heart, so you crashed your car into him in an attempt to get back at him, breaking both his legs in the process. He may never walk again – big deal! A crime of passion, your honor! Revenge for the two years that you’ve wasted on a person, only for him to break up with you once he noticed the tracker sown into the bottom hem of his favorite jacket. Bummer.
But life goes on, and as long as your heart can beat, it can love. And the person who made you believe in romance again is sitting right in front of you in his office, narrowing his eyes as he stares you down over the rim of the coffee cup he’s sipping from. If only you could trade places with an inanimate object. Jonathan Crane in his entirety is worth the stay at Arkham. He’s worth the uncomfortable bed, colorless food and horrible daytime television that’s always running in the recreation room. Who needs freedom when you have love?
Crane was the first to listen to you. The first person to let you speak and philosophize about the nature of your devotion and the way you love people. And he didn’t judge you. At least not out loud.
But now, two months after being admitted to the asylum, he’s grown tired and agitated. Unhealthy attachment and mood-natural delusionships involving someone who wants nothing to do with you. That’s the addition to your diagnosis that Crane is currently rattling off right in front of you, but you’re too busy staring at every detail of his face, trying to manifest his hands on your skin and his tongue down your throat.
“Are you trying to go for a new record in weeks spent in solitary confinement?” Crane sets down the cup to have a free hand to rub his temple with.
The question makes you smile. Oh, he’s always so funny. So charming. But being sentenced to solitude wasn’t the goal you had in mind when you smashed another patient’s face into the cafeteria wall, not easing up until her teeth were scattered around like the shiny pearls of a rich lady’s ripped necklace. Even though you were hosed down by a guard and received a fresh set of clothes, the other woman’s dried blood is still crusted under the nail of your left ring finger. A secret little sign of your devotion. You didn’t do it out of anger or jealousy either. You did it because you knew that Crane would be forced to sit you down for an emergency therapy session. It’s his own fault for reducing your sessions to only once a week.
A playfully coy smile pulls at the corners of your lips, and you lean forward a little, wanting to get a better look at him even though you’ve already perfectly memorized every detail of him after just the first two days of being here.
“She shouldn’t have provoked me. I was defending myself. You understand me. Right, Jonathan?”
You slowly inch your hand across the table, almost making contact with his fingertips until he opts to grab your file instead. It’s a pointed gesture, and you quietly mourn the chance for physical contact with him. Crane clears his throat to bring your focus back to the here and now. And of course, the first thing he does is correct you.
“Whistler?” You furrow your eyebrows. “What does she have to do with this? I thought… I thought you were trying to help me.”
“It’s Dr. Crane for you. And I understand that you have very little self-control.” He pauses for a moment, struggling with a sudden surge of anger before he manages to continue. “I’ll be honest. My patience is wearing thin. You’re a danger to the other inmates, and Dr. Whistler of all people already offered to take you off my hands.”
This revelation makes you perk up suddenly, and there’s a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s thinking of giving you away?
“Yes, emphasis on trying. But as you can see, we’re not getting anywhere, are we? And Whistler mentioned how optimistic she is about your case. If you want my opinion, I think she’s itching to test out some new sedatives we’ve added to the catalog.” Crane adjusts his glasses, and the way he speaks almost makes you think he doesn’t care. But you’re sure he does. Of course he does. He has to. Nevertheless, the mere thought of not seeing him on a regular basis makes anxiety crawl up your spine, and you absently pick at your cuticles until you tear a little too deep, and another line of red pools around your fingernail.
“You can’t do this,” you try to argue, searching your brain for any good reason for him to keep you aside from the fact that you two belong together. You briefly lick your lips, daring to appeal to his pride. “If you hand me off, everyone will know that you failed. They’ll all know that you gave up on me because you couldn’t handle me.”
Crane’s eyes narrow into cold slits, and his grip on your file tightens. Uh-oh. That’s a very ugly expression on your darling doctor. He’s quiet for a moment, silently reigning himself back in. The rage that’s simmering beneath his skin dissipates a little when he has a sudden idea.
Maybe a different approach could work better. Realization sets in, and he almost wants to smack himself for not thinking of this sooner. Evidently, you don't care that much for punishment. Solitary confinement and restriction from activities do little to keep you in check. But how about a different motivation? How about reward?
"Alright, here's what we're going to do. We'll keep up the weekly frequency of solo therapy sessions." He thinks out loud, crossing his arms over his chest and occasionally tapping his fingers on his biceps. You want to voice your protest about not getting more sessions with him, but he continues with this lovely, rumbly tone that he uses whenever he's planning something and getting matter-of-fact with you. It's like catnip for your ears, almost making you melt in your little grippy socks.
"And if I don't hear any complaints about you from the other members of staff, you'll get a reward each time. So, be a good girl for a week and you'll get a treat. Easy, right?"
His eyebrows are raised expectantly as he waits for your reply, and you think about his offer, picking at your sleeve as you weigh out the pros and cons.
"Do I get to pick the reward?" you eventually ask, looking back at him with a glint in your eyes that he immediately recognizes. Crane firmly shakes his head, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.
"No. Because I know what you'll choose."
"Then I'm not doing it."
Crane sighs, pulling out his work phone.
"I'll give Whistler a call," he states, concentrating on trying not to smirk at the way your expression falls. Like threatening a child by calling Santa.
"Wait! No, I - ... how about a compromise?" You plead, not missing the parallel either. But if you don't want to settle for coal (or in this case, withdrawal from your man), you'll have to suck it up.
Crane looks up from his phone, thumb hovering over the buttons for another moment before he tucks it back into the pocket of his suit jacket. "A compromise? Doll, we’re not arguing over who does the dishes and brings out the trash. You have no say in this aside from agreeing to either a good or a bad time.”
Damn. Did he have to make it domestic?
“Let me burst your bubble for a moment,” He continues, not allowing you to fantasize over his choice of words for longer than necessary. “You have no power here. No agency, no privileges. You’re not ‘doing’ anything, you’re having things ‘done to’ you. You may think you have me in the palm of your hand, because I’m forced to see you every time you get yourself into trouble, but I could just as well keep you drugged and docile for the rest of your indefinite stay here. So,” he leans forward, resting his palms on the table and clearing his throat.
“No more nonsense. This is your very last warning. If you lash out again, I’ll hand you over to Dr. Whistler, advise her to keep you sedated and move onto other much more interesting and agreeable patients, my reputation be damned.”
The silence that follows his words is deafening, and you can hear the blood rushing in your ears as the air suddenly feels thinner. Tears well up in your eyes. Bitter tears of shame and disappointment, and you feel like a petulant child, but it does nothing to stop them from rolling down your face and dripping onto the table below.
Crane stiffens, visibly taken aback by your sudden display of emotion. He thought he’s seen it all from you. The smirks, the winking, the way you bite your lip in an attempt to seduce a man who’s as emotionally available as one of the brick walls making up this very building. Part of him wants to escape the conversation immediately, but it’s his job to at least attempt to help you through your issues, and leaving you in a state of distress is the entire opposite of that.
“Listen,” he starts, almost tentative. “I don’t want to do any of that. Not really. I want to keep working with you. And I believe you’ve made a little progress so far, but you’d be even further along if you’d stop antagonizing everyone for a chance to speak to me.”
“But I need to. You don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
You sniffle, unable to articulate properly. He should know. He should understand from a single second of eye contact. Yet here you are, forced to spell it out for him. Crane’s eyes soften ever so slightly, and he pulls out a pack of pocket tissues, sliding it across the desk so you can dry your tears. His tone is calmer now, almost gentle.
“Why are you doing this? All of this resistance… the altercations with other patients… your life could be so easy. So why?”
“To make you notice me,” you sniffle, gingerly patting your cheeks with one of the paper tissues. Crane’s eyebrows furrow in response.
“You don’t think I would’ve noticed you without all of this mess?” He tilts his head, slightly amused by your melodramatic performance. You scoff at the question, frowning when he actually smirks at you this time.
“No, you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t notice me if I were a model patient. You wouldn’t spare me a single glance if I was docile like the others… I want you to think about me even when your shift is over.”
Crane shrugs, letting out a sigh through his nose as he does. A corner of his lip twitches, and you can’t tell whether it’s in amusement or disgust. The fact that you tried to manipulate him by being a ‘bad’ patient irritates him, but he has to admit that your strategy worked.
“You’re right. I wouldn’t notice you. You have no idea how difficult and repetitive this job gets… how much the faces start to blur together after a while. You’re not very special at all, if I’m being honest.”
The comment and the monotony in his voice sting, and just for a split second, the mask of sweetness slips to reveal the anger and hurt in your eyes. You quickly manage to reel yourself back in, and you clear your throat as you look away from him. At least he’s being honest with you. The basis of a good and healthy relationship.
“I could… make myself special to you.” A pause.
“Do you think you’re capable of doing that? I mean, so far, you’ve just been causing problems and it’s getting stale. Can you really do something better for me?”
“I can be good… I could show you how I feel for you.” It’s a gamble and you know it. But the possible reward outweighs the risk. At least to your infatuated brain. Crane shifts in his seat, deciding to humor you.
“How do you feel for me? Enlighten me a little bit.”
“I’m in love with you. I love you.” Your sweetheart bristles like a cat, and you feel let down by his reaction. During the countless times you’ve fantasized about this moment in the showers, scrubbing yourself with cheap soap, he was elated by your confession. But the real-life Jonathan Crane just looks at you with mild pity. Pity that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“That was… fast. Didn’t even waste a moment to admit it. But I suppose it’s expected from you,” he sighs, shaking his head as he writes something down in your file. You’re quick to defend yourself. This isn’t a joke to you, after all. You’re laying your heart completely bare, ripping apart skin and flesh to expose the bloody, weakly beating thing to his unimpressed eyes.
“I mean it.”
He lets out a low whistle, and his eyebrows raise ever so slightly. For an agonizingly long moment (about 30 seconds), he punishes your honesty with silence before he finally sets his pen down and looks at you.
 “Then do something to prove it.” He says it so nonchalantly. As if he’s not really expecting anything at all. But he’s severely underestimating how deep your devotion runs for him. Your chair screeches across the floor as you get up, and Crane looks alarmed for a fleeting moment before you lower yourself to your knees and crawl under his desk until you come up between his thighs. Your sweetheart’s eyes soften, and he reaches down to brush his fingers through your hair almost instinctively.
“I’ll show you…” you murmur softly, running your hands over his thighs and lightly digging your nails into the fabric of his slacks. Crane lets out a barely audible sigh, shifting a little in his seat to part his legs for easier access. So considerate. Your man really is such a darling.
Looking up at him from beneath the table, you make quick work of his belt and zipper before you pull up his shirt that he kept tucked into his pants. Your mouth waters at the sight of his skin, and you lean in to kiss his stomach while your hand moves to palm his cock through his boxers. Crane hisses softly, keeping his eyes locked on your devoted form between his thighs, and a shiver runs down his spine when you pull down his underwear, exposing him to the cool air of his office.
“God… your cock is so beautiful… you don’t know how long I’ve been dreaming of sucking you off…” you murmur, eyes lighting up as you wrap your hand around him. Crane licks his lips, unsure how to feel about the compliment. You’ve been his biggest headache for months now, and yet here you are, sweettalking him while you’re sitting under his desk with your fingers around his dick.
“I bet you taste as sweet as you look.” You giggle, gathering some saliva in your mouth before you let it dribble down onto his tip so you can pump his cock more easily. Crane’s brows furrow, and you smile up at him before licking from his base up to his tip, causing him to twitch against your tongue. You know he’s always pent up, always stressed, and you don’t really have to worry about him seeking release elsewhere since he’s always focused on his work. And, in some abstract way, always focused on you.
Loyalty. Another pillar of an unbreakable bond.
You can feel him hardening within your grasp, and you swear you can hear an almost silent breath of relief when you finally take his cock into your mouth. You start off slow, moaning at the feeling of his length on your tongue, and you continue to caress his thighs and stomach in an effort to worship him like he deserves.
“No teeth, doll.” He smirks down at you, smoothing his thumb over your cheekbone as you continue to suck the precum from his tip. The taste of him makes your mind fog up, and you nod eagerly, pulling away from him for just a moment to answer properly.
“Cross my heart, Jon.” Your mouth is back on him within seconds, and you bob your head up and down, taking him deeper down your throat every time. Crane hisses in response, and his grip on your hair tightens.
“It’s still Dr. Crane to you…” His protest is half-hearted at best, and you witness his composure crumbling in real time as you suck him off like you’re trying to devour him whole. You’re on a mission. A mission to drive him to the brink of insanity like his mere presence does you. Crane huffs out another sharp breath, and his hips twitch forward, generously helping you to breach your throat barrier and causing you to splutter around him. Tears well up in your eyes, but you stay down on his cock, pushing down all the way until the neatly trimmed hair on the base of his length tickles your nose.
“Fuck… You’re so pretty when you gag on it.”
You pull off of him, only managing to swallow half the spit that gathered in your mouth while the rest drips down your chin, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all. Crane’s hand massages the back of your head encouragingly, and you flash him a bright smile before you go back down at him with a little more vigor.
After a while, you go to catch your breath, but before you can pull away completely, both his hands shoot out to grab your head and push you back down on his cock. Your eyes widen, and you let out a slight noise of protest as he begins to fuck into your throat. Drool dribbles down your chin, soiling the shirt of your patient uniform while your nails dig into Crane’s thighs in an attempt to ground yourself. He clenches his jaw, moaning through his teeth while your throat contracts around him.
“Perfect little cocksucker… so eager to show me your love…” He cuts himself off with a little grunt, and his grip on your head tightens as he moves your skull up and down. “All the way down… yes, keep your tongue out…”
You continue to gag around his length, trying to keep up with the rhythm of his thrusts as he forces his cock down your pharynx, enjoying the way your muscles clench and contract. His soft moans become more urgent, and pride makes your heart swell. He’s making these noises because of you.
“That’s it… good girl. Eyes on me. I want you to look at my face when I cum down your pretty little throat...”
You whine in response, nodding your head as best as you can, and you start to work in tandem with him as he gets close. The moment you feel him pulse on your tongue, he pushes you down all the way again, and his hand reaches around to your face. You catch a dark glint in his eyes when he suddenly pinches your nose shut, constricting your airflow completely as he chokes you on his cock. You struggle against him, but he doesn’t budge as his eyes fall shut and he grunts out more praise. Panic rises in your chest, and your muscles convulse in a desperate attempt to get air into your neglected lungs. And it’s exactly this panic in your eyes that pushes Crane over the edge and he shoots his load directly down your throat, giving you no other option but to swallow the hot ropes of cum that he lazily continues to fuck into your mouth.
Finally, he lets go of your head, and you immediately flinch back to suck in some much-needed air. The both of you are panting, and you keep your watery eyes locked on his satisfied expression while strings of spit still connect your swollen lips to the flushed head of his cock.
“You okay?”
“Yeah...“ you breathe out in reply, trying to swallow the soreness in your throat. Crane’s hand reaches out to you again, caressing your head like a cherished pet, and he chuckles to himself.
“Catch your breath, doll. That was one hell of a way to prove yourself…” He murmurs, reaching across the table to retrieve the pack of pocket tissues and hand it to you. Your fingers are a little shaky as you wipe the mess from your chin and neck, and you slowly return to your chair. Crane’s brows furrow when he watches you retreat, and you blink at him.
Immediately, your thoughts begin to spiral. What are you doing? Sitting back down, that much is evident. Did he want you to stay and keep on sucking him off? Were you supposed to keep the spit on your face intact? Does he – Crane effectively snaps you out of your mental gymnastics routine by brushing his foot against your calf, and you’re immediately focused on the butterflies that fill up your chest.
“What?”
“What are you doing?” He asks, not bothering to elaborate.
“As far as I’m concerned, you behaved very well just now. So, I’d like to keep my word and reward you.”
He points over to the leather couch in the corner of his office, and you find yourself standing before he can even fully extend his arm. Crane follows after you, leading you with his hands on your hips until your knees softly bump against the furniture. He’s pressed up behind you, breathing in the scent of your skin while his hands begin to trail all over your body. You tilt your head back, resting it on his shoulder as his touch slips under your shirt, and you can feel the way his fingers are trembling against your flesh. Crane clicks his tongue as he pinches your nipples, slowly rolling the hardening bud between index and thumb in a way that makes you jolt in his grasp.
“Let me see what I’m working with, doll,” he murmurs, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it aside before the cotton bustier that the asylum provided follows suit. Your first instinct is to shy away, but he grabs your shoulders and spins you around to get a good look at you. His gaze is detached. Clinical. And you can feel yourself shrinking away until he finally decides to open his mouth. “Fucking hell… maybe I should’ve indulged you sooner.”
It isn’t much in terms of a compliment, but to you it might as well be a marriage proposal. Your breath catches in your lungs as Crane leans in, sucking your nipple into his mouth while his hands wander lower to push down your pants and sneak into your underwear. He chuckles when his fingers dip into the mess that has built up between your thighs.
“Did sucking my cock make you this wet already?”
“I mean… it is a pretty cock…” you try to defend your already half-unraveled state, and he lets out a laugh. A genuine one of honest amusement, and the noise makes your heart soar up into the sky.
“Quiet. Lie back on the couch for me, sweetheart.” The new pet name almost makes your body collapse in on itself. Your back meets the cold faux leather, and you let out a quiet hiss of discomfort as you sink a little into the cushions. Crane pulls your pants and underwear off completely, letting them join the already existing pile on the floor before he gets on the couch with you. He grabs your thighs, pulling you a little closer so he can rest your legs over his shoulders while he lies flat between them. His breath ghosts over your pussy, and he spreads your folds open with his thumbs to get a good look at your drooling entrance.
“Pretty… so, so pretty,” he murmurs, kissing up the insides of your thighs before he circles his tongue around your eager hole, savoring your taste with a deep, guttural groan.
You reach out your hand to hold his, but he swats it away, causing you to give his hair a harsh tug when he doesn’t do as you want him to. This, however makes him answer with a rough bite to the meat of your thigh, and you’re almost embarrassed by the wanton noise that slips past your lips. Pain tingles down your spine, and you try to sit up, only for him to push you back down. In a second attempt, you manage to catch his hand and immediately link your fingers together so he can’t escape your clammy, possessive grip. To your absolute delight, he’s not even trying to this time around. You knew he’d come around.
His tongue dances around your dripping entrance yet again, licking a stripe up your pussy that makes your grip on his hand tighten and your toes curl. Finally, finally, he sinks a finger into you, already sliding in to where his digit meets his palm, and he moans along with you when he feels how your pussy flutters around him.
“Jonathan…”
For the first time, he doesn’t correct you. Instead, he chooses to lean in and devour you, eagerly lapping at your juicy cunt as he presses the pad of his fingers against that sweet spot inside of you. He’s insatiable, parting your folds with his tongue and groaning at your taste as you grind your clit against the diligent muscle. And his eyes. Oh, God his eyes. He’s almost crushing you beneath his heated gaze, keeping you pinned while he eats you out like a starved man. Now, it’s Jonathan’s turn to get messy, and he doesn’t mind in the slightest as your saccharine slick coats his chin. He adds another finger into your cunt, pulling away from your clit to bite and suck on your thighs while he stretches you open.
“Fuck – “
“Just another finger, doll. Let yourself go for me…” He murmurs between licks and gentle bites as he returns to your pussy, his glasses fogging up from the heat.
Your hands are still intertwined, even as your back arches and you continue to pant and moan out his name. Even as your breath hitches when he latches back onto that sensitive bundle of nerves. Even when he adds a third finger and you finally come on his tongue with a wail that sounds as blissful as it does delirious.
Your brain is clouded by euphoria, and your bite your lip to keep quiet as he continues to pump his fingers inside of you. You can hear the mess he’s made between your thighs. A mix of his saliva and your juices, and Jonathan is not wasting a single drop of it. Pleasure quickly turns to overstimulation, and you only faintly register the little laugh he lets out at your state.
“Christ, I want to kiss that expression off your face… Actually, don’t mind if I do.”
Jonathan leans over you, laughing again when he gets a closer look at your expression. And then months of yearning and dreams of romance become reality when his lips meet yours. Fireworks go off in your head, and you immediately pull him closer, almost causing him to topple over on top of you. It’s messy and overly excited on your part, but you couldn’t care less as your teeth clash a few times and you lick against his tongue and taste yourself on it.
Jonathan pulls back for a moment, despite the vise grip you have on his shoulders, but he calms you by pressing his lips against your brow, whispering like he’s trying to calm a wild animal. “Easy there… come on, be good.”
You whine in response, but when his thumb brushes over your clit again, your body jolts and you immediately shut up. Jonathan pushes his own pants down further, freeing his leaking cock again and giving himself a few pumps before he pushes his hips forward to coat his length in your slick. Every time the heard of his cock brushes up against you, you let out a soft little noise, and it’s in that moment that Jonathan decides he’d like to hear a lot more of it in the future. He grits his teeth, slowly sinking into your cunt while keeping his eyes fixed on yours.
Once upon a time, you were nothing special. You have an interesting backstory, sure. And your obsession with him does wonders for his ego. But right here, right now, something cracks the stony façade and he silently dares to venture a little further into the dreamworld you’ve built around the two of you. He sees parts of himself in you. The obsessive, volatile behavior. The inability to love in a way that’s considered normal. The desire to possess something or someone in its entirety.
You shiver when he bottoms out inside of you, his hips meeting yours and slightly squishing you into the faux leather cushions of the couch. You’re still tight and sensitive from your previous climax, and Jonathan can feel your pulse in the velvety walls of your pussy that’s clenched around him. Despite your heightened sensitivity, his thumb returns to your clit, rubbing a tight figure eight into it that makes your head spin. His other hand leaves yours, grabbing your jaw instead to keep you from squirming.
“You’re gonna come for me again,” he states, rubbing you a little faster and applying more pressure along with it. Your muscles tighten, and your heart hammers in your chest as you stare up at him through half-lidded eyes.
“C… can you – “
“Move?” he finishes for you, pressing his forehead against yours. “Only if you cum again, I’m afraid. It’ll be another reward.”
You sob out a moan, face scrunching up when that familiar pressure begins to build inside of you for a second time. Jonathan keeps his hand on your jaw, watching every twitch and flinch of your expression with a look of genuine fascination.
“God, why would anyone ever leave you…” he murmurs, and his word pierce right into your heart and the black depths of your lonely little soul. “Pretty thing… if you didn’t break his legs, I’d recommend for him to get a cell on the opposite end of the hall…”
Your breath hitches as he continues to rub your clit and softly speak to you. “Insanity, I tell you… abandoning such a cute toy... It’s beyond me.” He lets out a soft groan when you tighten around his cock. “That’s it… thaaat’s it.”
You reach the edge again, clenching your eyes shut as you come a second time. Jonathan captures your lips with his own yet again, and while you’re stuck on cloud nine, he pulls his cock out all the way only to slam back inside with an intensity that pushes the air from your lungs. You cry into his mouth as he picks up a consistent, slow rhythm of deep thrusts that make your eyes clench shut. Jonathan releases you from the kiss and gives your jaw a little warning squeeze, wanting your eyes to stay on his while he’s rearranging your anatomy with his cock.
“There we go… stretched open so well.”
You squirm back on your elbows, looking up at him with dilated pupils and burning cheeks, but he grabs your waist and pulls you back right to the base of his cock. A truly sinful noise spills from your lips and for a moment you don't even register that it came from you.
Crane chuckles as he starts to roll his hips again, his right hand hovering dangerously close to your poor, abused clit again. A silent threat almost. Then again, he's quite literally threatening you with a good time.
"S'too much...," you groan out, your body rocking every time he spears you open with his girth.
"Shh... no, no.." he tuts, tightening his grip to prevent you from escaping. "You're gonna stay right here and take it. Stay right. Fucking. Here."
Every word he speaks is empathized by a sharp thrust into your drooling cunt, causing you to howl in pleasure and claw at his back. Every nerve in your body is on fire, drowning you in sweet, sweet agony.
"You wanted this, right? For months you've been begging. And now it's suddenly too much?"
You can only nod, babbling some incoherent nonsense in response. Crane lets out a condescending laugh which quickly twists into a moan when you clench around his cock. No matter how much he tries to pretend, he's just as close as you are.
His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, clinging to you like you're a lifeboat in a storm as he keeps on thrusting into your slick heat.
"So good for me... God, you're so beautiful when you're sweet and obedient... accepting your reward like a good little patient."
You look up at him, trying to focus on his flushed face even though your eyes are rolling back in your head. Crane leans down to capture your mouth in another heated kiss, nipping at your lips and tasting your tongue while he moans down your throat.
The rhythm of his hips stutters when he pulls away to press his face into the crook of your neck, and suck and bite at your skin in a desperate attempt to leave traces of himself.
“Are you going to cum again?” He groans into your skin, flattening his tongue against your pulse.
“N… no…” you whine
“No? This –“ He’s cut off by a moan of his own, and it takes a moment for him to pull himself together to finish his sentence. “This is your reward, doll… We’re going to have to work on – fffuck – on gratitude…”
“I can’t...! Please… please…” you beg, but you’re not sure what you’re even begging for. Certainly not for him to stop.
“You can’t? Well… you’re going to.” His thrusts begin to get faster and more erratic as he tries to fuck into you as deeply as possible “Do it for me, hm? Just for me…”
“No- fuck, please! Jonathan -!!” Tears well up in your eyes from the delicious pain, and you actually scream when he starts to rub your clit again. Colors explode behind your closed eyelids. “Please, please, please- “
“I know you can do it… one more time, doll… Just one more time…”
And you finally do as you’re told, cumming around his cock with an intensity that feels as if someone punched you in the gut. Your brain short-circuits, and you’re not even making noises anymore as he fucks you through your climax like you’re a toy that was handmade for his pleasure.
“Fuuuck – Christ, fuck -“ Jonathan’s voice completely lacks the air of authority and superiority that you are so used to when he whimpers into your neck, his hands tightening around you. It feels like you’re wrapped in cotton, and you can only hear him faintly due to the volume of your pulse that’s hammering in your ears. Finally, his hips still, and he sinks down on top of you as he finishes inside of your fluttering cunt. Rational thought is absent in this moment, and you’re absolutely certain that this is what paradise must feel like. Connected to the one you love so dearly. Overwhelmed by pleasure.
For a long while, the office is silent aside from the rugged breathing that’s coming from both of you, and you bask in his warmth, absolutely content to stay like this for the rest of time. Jonathan clears his dry throat, lifting himself up onto his elbows as he looks down at you, and you’re struck by overwhelming affection once again.
“I love you…”
“Shut up…” But there’s no bite to it. He huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, and for a moment, there’s a very real glimpse of fondness in his eyes. Crane stays silent, taking in your features like it’s the first time he sees you properly, and his hand comes up to gingerly trace over your cheekbone and eyebrow before he brushes a strand of hair out of your forehead. Then finally, he lets out a soft breath before he murmurs gently, intimately.
“Looks like I’ll have to come up with more rewards in the future.”
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nereidprinc3ss · 7 months
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hii i love love how u write spencer omds🥸
uhh i was wondering if you could write sth based off the song “we’ll never have sex” by leith ross? pls dont feel pressured to write this btw😭😭😭 hope ur having a good day lovely💗💗
hello my love i have no self control so this is extremely long and plotty but i love this song and i hope that this is any good at all crying emoji (i'm on a laptop LOL) enjoy!!
warnings/tags: angst/fluff, fem!reader, negative self-talk from reader, mentions of past sexual coercion/feeling used, mentions of past excessive drinking to combat social anxiety, ive been watching a lot of new girl lately and i think it shows, SO FRIENDS TO LOVERS, happy ending
You weren’t expecting to end up on Spencer Reid’s worn-leather couch at two in the morning, clutching a chipped mug of coffee in your hands as you listen to the sounds of the city from the street below. But there you are, sitting with your legs folded under you, in your favorite dress and first date-night makeup (now bleeding and smudged from all the crying.) And realizing that despite considering him one of your closest friends, you haven’t been to his apartment in a long time. There are, of course, good reasons for that—but you try to push those from your mind. 
“I’m really sorry about this,” you sigh, staring at your warped reflection in the glassy black surface of your coffee. Spencer is coming out of the small kitchen, now bearing his own cup. 
“Please, stop apologizing.” 
You glance up, tentatively studying him from behind the safety of your mug. While he may not have been asleep when you knocked on his door ten minutes ago, lachrymose and barely verbal, he must have been getting ready for bed. He’s clad in patterned pajama pants, mismatched socks, and an FBI crewneck that is just big enough to reveal the collar of the tee-shirt underneath. He’s already taken out his contacts, and you were startled by the reminder that he also has glasses. 
“So...” he begins, bringing you back to the present moment, “we don't have to talk about anything, if you don’t want to, but...” 
You sigh, watching coffee bubbles swirl like stars in a galaxy. 
“It’s fine. Honestly, I’m kind of embarrassed. I didn’t really think, I just... ended up here.” 
“Yeah... where did you come from?” he laughs quietly. “Not that I’m complaining. But I recall you not living super close by.” 
“No, no. I was actually on a date. Kind of.” 
“Ah.” There’s a beat of silence, and ostensibly Spencer is waiting for you to say more, but instead you take a sip from your mug. “At two in the morning?” You nod dully, staring at the labyrinthine pattern of the Persian rug.  
“I’m taking it that it wasn’t a very good date...?” 
A whoosh of air escapes from your puffed cheeks. 
“No it was not. Not by the end, anyway. It actually started really well, which made it even more disappointing when he...” you laugh, but there’s not much humor in it. “Well, when he kicked me out of his car on a street corner because I didn’t want to sleep with him.” 
You don’t look to see Spencer’s reaction—only take another long, baleful sip of coffee and ignore the heavy silence.  
“I’m really sorry. You... you deserve so much better than that.” 
An attempt at a jaded scoff from you falls flat. 
“Yeah, well. Tell that to the last three white house interns I’ve gone on dates with. It’s the same thing every time.” 
“Have you considered going on fewer dates with white house interns...?” The nervous humor is a thin veil over genuine critique. You shrug, biting the inside of your cheek. 
“It’s not just them. Every single guy I’ve liked since I was 15 has been like this. Even my past relationships, I felt like I was almost... tricked into, you know? I mean, these guys, they act all understanding and willing to take it slow or whatever, until you’re in a relationship, and suddenly they’re guilt tripping you so hard and making you feel so obligated to...” you catch yourself just in time, glancing up at Spencer. You’re not sure what to make of his expression. The drawn brow and slightly squinted eyes trained so intently on you could be sympathy, or anger, or pity, or apathy—you look away, not sure you even want to know what he’s thinking. “Sorry. You don’t need to hear all about that. Basically romance is exhausting and since I’ll clearly be single forever I’m considering running away to join a nunnery.” 
When he doesn’t respond for too long, you look back up quizically. 
“I’m not sure you know what romance actually is,” he says as soon as your gaze meets his, like the eye-contact activated some kind of hair-trigger in his vocal box. 
You blink, lowering the coffee cup to your lap. 
Says Spencer Reid? 
“...sorry?” 
He flushes, stammering to clarify himself. 
“I just meant—I—I know I’m not exactly fighting women off with a stick—” he interrupts himself with a self-conscious (adorable) laugh— “but... but I have been in love, at least once.”  
“Maeve,” you say, gently—trying to shove down bitter guilt as you remember how jealous you’d been when Spencer had first told you about her. “I remember.” 
He swallows and nods. 
“We never even met—we just talked. All the time. I had no idea what she looked like. But it didn’t matter at all. Because I knew her, and I loved her. Maybe things would have gone further if I hadn’t been calling her from public phone booths, but that wasn’t the most important thing to either of us. We were still in love.” You try to shut out the sharp ache in your chest. Being jealous of the way he speaks about a dead woman is so wrong.  
“What I’m trying to say is that romance isn’t solely about sex, or even physical appearance. It sounds to me like you’ve been with a lot of men who don’t understand that. And it would be such a shame for you to write romance off in general before you even get to experience it. You are... an extraordinary woman. You’re funny, and intelligent, and kind, and so capable of being loved. One day, someone is going to see beyond your pulchritude and prove that to you. I hope you let them try.” 
More tears blur the pattern on the rug, pooling in the rims of your eyes before spilling down your cheeks in fast, fat drops. Shakily you set the cup down, resting your elbows on your knees and hiding your face in your hands. You sniff once. Twice. Shake your head quickly, attempting to wipe the tears away without further smearing your makeup everywhere. 
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Spencer breathes, leaning forward but obviously unsure how to comfort you. “Please don’t cry, I wasn’t--I was trying to do the opposite of this.” 
“No, I’m sorry! You didn’t have to—you didn’t—I’m sorry. That was way too nice.” 
But you're not crying because he was nice.  
Someone will love you, but not me. That’s all you can hear. 
His voice is a mere whisper when he next speaks. 
“I meant every word.” 
You take a shuddering breath, allowing yourself a moment of reprieve behind the peaceful black of your eyelids. You can’t be looking at his face when you say what you’re about to say. 
“I had a crush on you for the longest time, you know.” 
Ringing silence. But it doesn’t last as long as you’d imagined. It’s not as world ending. 
“Had?” 
The little smile in his voice is like a fist around your heart. 
“Yeah. You know what changed?” 
“What’s that?” 
Absolutely nothing. 
“Every time I got super drunk and started hitting on you, you’d just drive me home. And I did it a lot. Like, for months. But you were such a gentleman. It drove me fucking crazy. So eventually I figured you just didn’t like me and I gave up.” 
Another stretch of silence. A breeze comes in from the open window, fluttering the curtains and cooling the tears on your face. His response is sad when it finally comes. 
“You thought I didn’t like you because I didn’t try to take advantage of you when you were drunk?” 
“Pretty much.” You smile ruefully, fingertips still pressed over your eyes. “God, listen to me. No wonder I get treated like garbage.” 
“Stop. Don’t talk about yourself like that. Did you hear anything I just said?” 
You sniff, looking to the ceiling. 
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. It was really sweet.” 
More silence. 
“But you don’t believe it.” 
A bitter laugh poisons the air around you. 
“I don’t know.  I’m kind of tired of waiting for someone to prove it to me. Just for once, I want someone to be interested in me beyond having sex in the back of their fucking... Range Rover, or whatever. Like, maybe all that stuff you said is true, but there’s no evidence to support it, and I know logically you’re probably right but I can’t help wondering if... if I’m the outlier. Maybe there just isn’t someone for me like that. Maybe I’m just gonna be the sex in the back of the Range Rover girl forever.” 
A noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob forces itself from your throat and you bury your face in your hands again, shaking your head. 
“Wow, I am so sorry,” you say a little too loudly, “I did not mean to be this honest tonight. Did you spike my coffee?” 
“You are not the outlier,” Spencer whispers.  
You sniff, lifting your head haltingly to look at him. 
“What?” 
His voice shakes slightly as he speaks. 
“You said you can’t help wondering if you’re the outlier, and maybe there just isn’t someone for you like that. That’s not true.” 
“Spencer, those are just words. You can’t possibly know that. Statistical probabilities don’t count.” 
“That’s... that’s not how I know.” 
Your heart drops as you study his face.  
No. 
Surely he’s not saying what you think he’s saying. 
Surely he wouldn’t do this to you after you’ve just told him everything you told him. You have been harboring feelings for him for years. Since you met. He can’t just spring this on you one night because you’re a little bummed out. If he felt the same, you would have found out a long time ago; he had ample opportunity to tell you. There was a period of months where you practically threw yourself all over him at every chance you got, and he did nothing. So this... this is just cruel—something you’ve never known Spencer Reid to be. 
You stand up, trembling slightly with rage and grief and humiliation. 
“Don’t do that. Don’t say things that you don’t mean just to make me feel better.” 
“What are you doing? Don’t--” 
You scoop up your purse, trying to get to the front door as fast as your gelatinous legs will allow. More tears are streaming down your face now and you don’t need him to see what he’s done to you—to see how much you care what he thinks. 
“It’s fine. Thanks for the coffee, I’ll see you around—” 
A hand around your wrist stops you in your tracks 
“Stop. Just... please give me a second to talk, okay?” 
With nothing left to give, you turn to him. 
“Don’t be mean, Spencer. Don’t act like you liked me too. That makes me feel... so much worse.” 
He takes a deep, shaky breath, as if steeling himself. Tawny eyes bore into your soul, and you realize that there is so much sheer nervous energy radiating off of him it’s infectious. Your heart begins to pound as he speaks. 
“I’m not doing that. I’m being an idiot, because you just told me that you don’t feel that way about me anymore but... but I do. And I have to tell you now because for six months I tortured myself wondering why you would flirt with me so much when you were hammered and then act like nothing happened the next day. There were so many times I almost told you how I felt but I didn’t and now I am because even if it ruins our friendship you need to know that somebody... that I wanted to be that person for you. I still do.” 
Your heart is like an unmoored zeppelin in your chest, bumping against your esophagus and threatening to either burst or jump out of your mouth. You take your chances, whispering so quietly it’s almost inaudible. 
“You... you like me?” 
“Yes,” Spencer sighs. “I have liked you for a very long time. And I’m sorry—” 
Whatever ridiculous thing he was going to apologize for, you don’t give him the chance. Instead you launch yourself at him, capturing his lips in a kiss that feels so much better than it’d ever been in your fantasies because it’s real. You hear his sharp intake of breath, but it only takes a second for him to respond, cradling your face in his hands like you’re the entire world. For a moment, time bends. Years of longing, of buried dreams crash into the present in a brilliant, dazzling explosion.
And then, as quickly as it started, he pulls away. The absence of his touch is like a vacuum, so much worse now that you know exactly how it feels to have his lips on yours, even if it was only for a few seconds. How the hell did you live like that for so long? How are you supposed to live like that ever again?
“You’re not thinking clearly,” he breathes, tilting his head back toward the ceiling like he’s barely holding onto his self control. “You just want someone to comfort you, I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re in an emotionally vulnerable state and confided in me which is manufacturing a false sense of attachment—” 
You grab his wrists, which still graze your jaw.
“Spencer, stop intellectualizing for thirty seconds. I promise you I am thinking clearly.” 
“You said you used to like me, past tense—” 
“Yeah, I did. Do you believe every single murderer who says he didn’t do it?” 
“No, but—” 
“Have you ever heard the phrase; a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts?” 
“Of course I have.” 
“Then what more could you possibly need to be convinced that I really like you? I already kissed you! What is stopping you?” 
Another deep breath is taken by him that seems to suck all the air out of the quiet room. Briefly, you wonder if you’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake. If you really do like him so much more than he could ever like you.  
Until he looks back down, eyes so golden-brown in the dim light, so kind and full of affectionate concern as he carefully assesses every square centimeter of your face, looking for... well, you’re not exactly sure what. It’s like he’s extracting every thought from your head, turning them over like sun-warmed stones until he finds what he’s looking for. He smooths his hands over your hair, brushing strands away from your teary face. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of holding your breath, he speaks. 
“I just want you to believe what I believe about you. But I don’t want you to have to rely on me or anyone else for your own self-worth.” 
“Well, don’t you think very highly of yourself,” you tease with a sniffle. He laughs—it's quiet, but his smile is so bright without even trying that suddenly you can’t remember why you’ve ever been sad. The small miracle of his laughter makes you feel so light, and you realize it has nothing to do with the way he makes you feel about yourself. It has everything to do with who he is. 
Once the giggles die down, you tentatively mirror his hold on your face. 
“Spencer, I don’t like you because you like me. I’ve liked you for an embarrassingly long time. I liked you enough that I gave myself a severe hangover at least once a week for three months just so I could have an excuse to flirt shamelessly with you.” 
A half-sad smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, and he gently swipes under your eyes. 
“You never had to do that. I would have welcomed your sober brazen flirting with open arms.” 
“Well... do you believe me?” you plead. His amber eyes shine. 
“I do.” 
“Will you kiss me?” 
“If that’s what you want.” 
You nod, rising on your toes to meet him halfway. 
When your lips meet again, it is sweet, and honest, and slow, and deep. Still, there is no desperation--no race to an imagined finish line, no clash of teeth and pawing hands. It is a kiss for the sake of it—as if it were the greatest intimacy. Not a precursor to sharing a bed, but something bigger than that in and of its own. Something just as worthy and important. For the first time, you think you’re beginning to understand romance. And while you wouldn’t mind if things did escalate, you also know that Spencer knows that’s not what matters right now. Because he actually understands you—he actually cares. He will wait until you understand that you mean so much more than that to him.
To that end, he pulls away, gently supplanting his absence with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 
“It would be polite of me to offer you a ride home, wouldn’t it?” he whispers, like it’s the last thing he wants to do. You bite the inside of your cheek, coming up with reasons not to go. One ridiculous one arises from the depths of your memory that you know he won’t be able to say no to. 
“Or... I could stay here, and we could watch one of those nerdy foreign films you’re always talking about?” 
A slow, perfect, high-watt smile blossoms on his face, and you know you’ve said exactly the right thing. 
“Nerdy? Oh, my darling girl... Soviet-era filmography is far from nerdy. небесная машина will completely defy what you thought you knew about the life of an average Russian villager in the 1950’s.” 
“Oh, good. Because I’ve really been meaning to change the way I think about the average 1950’s Russian villager,” you smile, already closing in to kiss him again. 
------------------------------------------ 
epilogue
Three hours later, you’re crying because the life of the average Russian villager in the 1950’s was so much worse than you’d previously thought. 
“It was good, right?” Spencer asks as the credits roll over a bleak snowy sepia landscape, leaning back to get a better look at you. You sit up from where you’d been leaning against him, furiously wiping your eyes. 
“It was terrible! Why didn’t you tell me that everyone except the kid dies in the end?!” 
“Because that’s the whole point of the movie!” he laughs, pulling you back into him. “I’m sorry. I probably should have explained how depressing this entire era of film was outside of the US.” 
“And also how long the movies were. I was not prepared for how many five minute long clips of empty fields there were going to be.” 
“You’re right,” he ammends, wrapping his arms around you in a way that gives you butterflies and makes you sleepy at the same time. “Next time we can watch whatever you want to watch.” 
Time passes like that—you in his arms, watching weak light slowly flood the room with half-lidded eyes and listening to the sounds of the city waking up from the street below, underscoring the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Thoughts float by like leaves on the ever-flowing current of your mind, and you’re happy to let them pass until one in particular catches your attention. 
“Spencer?” 
He hums, like he’d been deep in his own proverbial river of thought. 
“What does pulchritude mean?” 
It takes him a split second to remember the bit of conversation from earlier to which you are referring, but when he does, he chuckles, running his hand over your messy hair. 
“Don’t worry about it.” 
And so you let it float away. 
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