rocarecs

“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?” 

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—“ 

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.” 

“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. 

“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?” 

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. 

“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. 

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.” 

“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.” 

“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.” 

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. 

“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. 

“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. 

“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. 

“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. 

“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—“ 

“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. 

“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. 

“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?” 

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.” 

“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. 

“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. 

“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.” 

“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. 

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.” 

“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…” 

“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?” 

✧ a/n: ahh this was super fun to write just because of how much crack it was hahah, i hope you guys enjoyed <3

⟡

the first time sero hanta ever decides to show up early, he’s stuck waiting at a theatre with an angry bakugo at his side.

not to say the fiery blond isn’t usually angry. but this time said anger comes with heat: he’s grinding straw between his molars so hard plastic cracks between his teeth. his feet tap like it’ll make time go by sooner. it doesn’t.

“i’m gonna kill that damn shitty hair.”

“we’re the ones who’re thirty minutes early.”

“shut the fuck up.”

dumb dog sero hanta does as he’s told. katsuki stews a little longer, neck rash red, phone clicking locked & unlocked till he decides he’s had enough—or till the anger reaches his bladder. “‘m going to the bathroom, watch my shit.”

katsuki doesn’t bother waiting for a reply. his hands shove in his pockets as he makes his way to the bathroom, phone tucked firm between sero’s palms. sero hanta knows better than to hold it with anything less than an iron grip. but then it buzzes—& almost cartoonishly, the phone hops & skips before settling between his fingers

sero sees the notification before he can pretend otherwise.

mine🫀: mina and i are otw

mine🫀 : hope we’ll make it. this girl can NOT drive.

sero muffles a snort. the text holds truth, mina cannot, in fact drive. he recalls the time she picked him up to go to the beach and—wait.

is that text from y/n?

he’s quick to take a picture, send it to the ‘inBESTigators 🕵️🔍’ GC. before he can even close his phone & resume playing saint, kiri’s response comes in.

ripped riot 🔥: could be a typo

ripped riot 🔥: like ‘mine’ could be short for miner

pikachu ⚡️[replying to ripped riot 🔥] : are we deadass

sero’s about to type a response of his own before the familiar heavy steps of steve maddens sag at his ears. katsuki’s back, jaw tight & angrier than ever.

further investigation will have to wait.

BAKUSQUAD CASE FILES — CASE STUDY #3.

observed by — denki kaminari

‘when the fuck did bakugo get funny?’

⟡

autumn break means thanksgiving shopping & black friday sales that make twelve dollar products drop to eleven ninety-nine. denki’s shopping for snacks, kiri needs energy drinks & you’re here for produce. katsuki is here because you all need his membership to get into costco.

something isn’t right.

& denki’s not talking about how the price of cheetos have somehow gone up. he’s talking about the fact that katsuki stands firm behind you, hands in pockets as you show him fruit. that’s fine—bakugo’s always been able to tell which apples are good & which aren’t.

but no apple evaluation requires katsuki to lean in that close.

and denki’s pretty sure there’s nothing funny about granny smiths either.

so why the fuck are you giggling ?

kaminari’s eyes flit to katsuki’s. if he was any other classmate, he’d say katsuki was bored. lips tight, eyes neutral, jaw slack. but denki’s no other classmate. he recognizes that twitch in his brow. the bob in his jugular.

katsuki is pleased. at least, denki thinks—no, swears he is. but just to be safe, he chooses to call in an actual katsuki expert. kirishima’s fatass is trying yet another free sample. for the sake of peace, denki chooses not to comment & instead goes straight to business.

“yo, kiri—i’m not seeing stuff, right? is bakugo not smirking and making y/n laugh??”

kirishima, in true fatass fashion, responds with a mouth filled with mini tacos. “I down’t see ‘t”

“bro. chew.”

“I don’t see it,” kiri gulps. “don’t you think we should respect their privacy?”

“we’re at a costco??”

but kaminari drops it. if the katsuki expert himself says there’s nothing, there’s obviously nothing.

right ?

BAKUSQUAD CASE FILES — CASE STUDY #4.

observed by — literally everyone

‘katsuki and y/n are definitely dating. oh, and kiri’s getting kicked from the group chat.’

⟡

mina ashido is not playing around.

the rest of the gang isn’t either. kaminari’s flipping through a scrapbook titled ‘PHOTOGRAPHICAL EVIDENCE.’ sero’s screenshotting group chat messages that sound too fond to not be affectionate. kirishima’s got his laptop open, looking over ‘evidence spreadsheets’ he swears aren’t empty.

but they are. and mina, rivaled only by sherlock himself, notices.

“kirishima, cell B-4. what’s written in there ?”

“I—uh, cell? what do you—“

“aha—” mina shuts her book. she’s towering over eijiro now, hands on her hips & glare so sharp it melts kiri like—well, acid.

“you’re not really doing anything.”

sero lifts a brow. kaminari gives the stink-eye.

“matter of fact…” mina continues, “you haven’t done anything. compiling evidence. listening in on on their convos. you haven’t done anything we’ve asked you to.”

“yeah,” sero quips. his phone’s in his lap now. “matter of fact, you always had some excuse about why you couldn’t.”

“matter of fact,” denki joins, “you’re always trying to deny evidence. talking about us ‘being delusional’.”

oh, kirishima’s in trouble now. blood in his jugular. tar in his throat. “I—“

mina can’t make up what happens next.

The door opens. It’s katsuki—not surprising—they’re literally all seated in a circle on the mat in his dorm. plans to hang out & just chill today—the usual. kiri is bakugo’s roommate. getting in isn’t a fuss.

but you’re right beside bakugo.

and your finger’s in his belt loop.

mina blinks. you haven’t noticed them yet. you look all calm and pretty, lashes low, eyes glued to your phone screen. your finger’s looped around the belt-hole like you’ve done it a thousand times before, and—

is that katsuki’s hoodie?

“what the fuck are you losers doing here?”

kiri’s already scrambling to defend the situation—something about she & the others showing up an hour early, he didn’t know, don’t blast us all—but mina’s not listening. she’s wondering if the refractive index of light is so strong it somehow made it look like katsuki gave your hand a light squeeze before tapping your hand off his jeans.

you’re still quiet behind him. hair all cute, jam-pink cheeks, fawn freckled & doe-eyed. kiri and katsuki are going back and forth. sero’s joined in. kaminari’s farted because he thinks no one will notice.

“y/n, is that bakugo’s hoodie?”

you can hear a pin drop. and another fart from kaminari.

“no, it’s—“

“it’s mine.” katsuki steps forward, hands in pockets & posture lazy like he didn’t say something scandalous. “got a problem, pinkie pie?”

“i could never.”

katsuki hums. he tugs you gently by the palm, door clicking shut behind him with the kick of his shin. he trudges toward the group, right hand in his pocket, left in yours—and he murmurs a quiet sit in your ear before doing a once-over.

“what’s all this?”

“evidence.”

“homework.”

“not evidence.”

tongue click. “evidence of ?”

“the refractive index of light.”

“you and y/n dating.”

“not you and y/n dating.”

“uh-huh,” katsuki picks up a photograph. he recognizes the scene: you’re tucked in his side, showing him something on your phone while he leans too close to be considered casual. you’re giggling here. cute.

he pockets it. “you guys are a bunch of fuckin’ idiots. and you—“ he turns to kirishima,

“no, no bro listen,” kirishima’s palm rests on his neck, an apologetic glance in your direction before he answers, “I did try to get them to leave you guys alone. they wouldn’t listen!”

“aha! so you were a traitor!”

bakugo glares. mina shrinks.

a muffled giggle pierces the silence. then a snort. & now you’re full on laughing—

“oh my god,” you sniffle, “you guys know we were literally gonna tell you, right?”

“tell us when?” sero speaks up, long moved away from kaminari. “it seems kiri here already knew about it.”

bakugo grunts. “why do you idiots think you’re here?”

oh.

bakugo takes a seat beside you. sero’s avoiding eye contact. kaminari’s avoiding the cheetos. mina bites her lip. you’re leaning over katsuki’s thigh now, photo evidence flip-book in your hands. you’re pointing out familiar photos while laughing & shaking your head, and bakugo’s looking back with a gaze so soft that mina doesn’t know how she didn’t see it sooner.

“i think we owe you two an apology.”

katsuki’s got his fingers twisting your knuckle. “y’think?”

sero, mina, and denki all look towards each other.

“we’re sorry.”

“for what?”

“for stalking you guys.”

“and not trusting that you’d tell us.”

“and being idiots.”

katsuki hums, satisfied. but he’s not done yet. he leans back on his palms before gently poking your hip. “should we forgive ‘em?”

“maybe. if they can send some of these photos.”

bakugo nods, turns to mina. “you heard the missus.”

“girl, take the whole book. like—seriously. omg.”

you hug it towards your chest, and mina can tell bakugo’s fighting a smile.

“right. and since you guys know now, you can all leave.”

the three protest. kiri interrupts. “i think it’s for the best. it’s been a long day.”

“that includes you, shitty hair.”

“huh—what?! this is my room too!”

“don’t care,” katsuki tugs you up with him, grip gentle, palm flat against your back as he steers you towards his bed.

“and didn’t ask,” he glances over his shoulder, “all of you, out.”

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So excited about this tho! He did say in love not liking and funnily enough it was to nanami lolol

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“Finally a date, a real date,” you sigh, walking hand in hand with him, “should we commemorate with a picture?” 

He smiles, rolling his eyes, “I left my phone at the hotel — I didn’t want any interruptions,” and you grin, as he leans in, breath warming your lips like an invitation, “just you and me, Princess,” 

“I like the sound of that,” you murmur — how was it he still could make your heart skip a beat like that? — utterly unfair. And your lips nearly brush when a voice interrupts you. 

“Geto?” Your heads snap over, as the two of you untangle yourselves. A girl in an unfamiliar high school uniform walks over, “it’s you, how are you?” Her lips are curled too widely, her eyes too eager, and her body language completely ignoring your presence. 

Oh, what the f- 

“Fumi?” He asks, lips in that same smile he gave everyone, the painted polite grin he plastered on, “it’s been a long time,” 

“It has. I heard you are going to a school in Tokyo now,” she smiles, “I stay in Tokyo with my family sometimes, we should meet up. I can you give my number,” 

Suguru opens his mouth to reply, but you cut in, a tight lipped smile on your face, “He doesn’t have his phone, so…” you reply, and she acknowledges your existence for a moment, gaze finally sliding to you. 

“Oh, then maybe I can give you my number and you can send it to him,” she offers, and you tilt your head. 

“No need,” and you can see Suguru glance between the two of you, his hands in his pocket. 

“Can’t hurt,” she flutters her eyelashes at Suguru, pouting, and you wonder if she would count as another curse you could exorcise. Although surely a fly head was more trouble than she would be. 

“Might hurt,” and Suguru’s arm snakes around your waist, physically reigning you in. 

“Me and my girlfriend actually have to get back to school, but it was nice to see you again, Fumi,” and he’s scrawling a number down, “here’s my number,” he waves, before ushering you off. She tries to stop you two, to no avail, as Suguru uses a small curse to draw her attention away for a moment before recalling it. 

“Was that necessary?” 

“Well I think using a cursed spirit was preferable to you beating her with your cursed tool, wouldn’t you agree?” he scoffs, but he can’t keep his lips from curling into a smile, “I didn’t really give her my number,” 

“I know,” you were irritated - not stupid. You knew Suguru wouldn’t cheat on you, but you hear a noise escape his throat — and you know he’s laughing. 

And it looks could kill, he would have been as dead as those curses from earlier, “you find this funny, don’t you?” 

“You getting jealous of some girl I barely knew from middle school? Yes, I do,” he snorts, mirth in his tone, “but I could go back and give her my real number if you want,” 

“Do that, and you won’t have to worry Fumi getting hurt, because she won’t be the one getting their ass kicked,” and he laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, before his lips find yours — and you can feel him smile against your lips, “it’s really annoying that all these people flirt with you, but I guess it’s only because my boyfriend’s hot,” 

“Got a catch didn’t you?” he hums, pressing another kiss to your lips. 

“Lucky me,” you mumble, sarcasm heavy on your tongue, and he’s kissing you more insistently, showering your face with kisses until you smile, pushing him off, giggling, “ok, ok! I’m lucky,” you sigh, burying your face in the crook of his neck again as the two of you walk, “whose number did you give her anyway? Satoru?” 

“No, Naoya,” and you snort, pressing a kiss to your devious boyfriend’s cheek. 

“Poor girl.” 

The other two boys were attractive, yes, but there was something about Mark that drew you to him. Donghyuck talked as much as him, sure, and Jeno’s attractiveness was on another level than Mark’s but that boy immediately caught your attention. Maybe it was the way he spoke and never completed a thought or the way he’d laugh so unabashedly, losing all control of his body that got to you. He was so incredibly endearing that your heart just claimed him.  Years later, when the friendship is stronger than ever, that beating muscle in your chest refuses to let Mark go. 

One morning the summer after graduation, you wake up in a hotel room with an alarm blaring at 6:00am. You roll over and groan, blindly reaching to stop the device. Karina is rustling inside the sheets next to you, hoping the noise will go away. Jeno and Donghyuck are on the other bed snoring up a storm. Mark, on the other hand, rolls uncomfortably on the pull-out couch. 

On normal days, the alarm set for six in the morning would be a sin but today is not a regular day. It is the day your group saved up for. 

The five of you, with your similar interests in movies and theme parks, wanted to go to Disneyland together for years. After graduation, you finally had the money and freedom for it. 

Your hypothetical plan finally made it out of the group chat—that is your driving force to get up. While doing so, you hit Karina’s side and she grumbles in response. The two of you agreed you’d wake up earlier since it would take you longer to get ready. The guys, however, could sleep in. 

As you quietly pass by the couch, Mark asks, “Is it time to get up already?” He must’ve heard the shuffling. There's darkness under his eyes. You can tell he didn’t sleep well last night. On top of his eyes struggling to open up, his voice sounds incredibly hoarse and filled with fatigue.

“No,” you answer, patting his messy head of brown hair. His body reacts positively to your touch, eyes closed and neck stretching to meet your touch. He releases a relaxed sigh as your fingers card through his thick strands. 

Lowering yourself to his level, you continue to play with his hair. “Sleep well last night?”

“Nah, not really, like dude, this shit really isn’t comfortable,” he complains with a deep exhale, “but I volunteered to take the couch so…”

“Move to mine,” you tell him, gesturing to the unmade bed. You hear the water running and figure that Karina jumped into the shower to help wake herself up. “Try to get a little more sleep, I’ll wake you up in a bit.”

Too tired to fight back, Mark languidly moves towards the bed. Once close enough, his body drops onto the mattress and he wiggles his way under the covers. You watch him until his breathing evens out. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep; after all, he did most of the driving on your road trip down to Southern California. Satisfied, you move to start your morning hotel routine. 

The fresh smell of coffee hits you as you do your skin care, apply your makeup, and brush your teeth. Karina’s done in the bathroom shortly after and you claim it to change into your outfit of the day. When the final touches of your look are finished, forty minutes have passed and it’s time to wake up the rest. 

You wake Jeno first because he’s the easiest and whisper that there’s fresh coffee waiting for him. Donghyuck throws a bit of a fit when you shake him awake, stuffing his face in his pillow. He gets up after a few threats from Karina, whining over how mean she is to him. 

Part of you wants to let Mark rest for a little bit longer, especially after knowing how exhausted he is. There’s the option of letting the other three go first while you wait for Mark to wake up naturally. The other half of you, however, thinks about two things: how much money you all spent getting these tickets and how you promised each other to be at Disneyland from open to close to make your splurge worth it. Being Mark’s best friend, you know how disappointed the guy would be if you stayed behind with him. So with no choice left, you wake him up.

You do so gently, your hand immediately going back to his unruly hair. You comb back his bangs and hold them in place. “Mark, it’s your turn now, everyone else is almost ready.”

As soon as he hears your voice, he stirs. Mark blinks the sleep away, and suddenly, you are the first thing he sees. With you sitting on the bed next to him and your hand still in his hair, Mark thinks he’s still dreaming. “Hmmm?”

“It’s your turn, Spidey,” you say, taking a sip of coffee. “We’re all ready.”

He buries his head in your lap for just a second, wanting to keep this little moment with him a little longer. 

“Okay,” he finally says a minute later, before slipping out of bed. 

Karina claims her rightful place next to you on your shared bed, still warm from Mark’s little nap. She shoots you a look and you ignore her knowing stare. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” she challenges you, perfectly drawn eyebrows raised in question.

“That,” you gesture to her face.

“Oh, you mean the look I’m giving you when you share a little cute moment with your best friend who is most definitely more than a best friend, fine,  I won’t do that,” Karina pretends to give up, her hands raised in surrender.

You shush her at once, looking over to the boys that are currently fighting over the sink. Mark’s already dressed in some black cargo pants and an oversized Spider-Man shirt. He’s in the midst of styling his hair, struggling with one strand that will not stay in place. You hear his frustrated huffs and puffs while Jeno and Haechan chuckle at his antics. 

“Does my baby need help?” Donghyuck teases, reaching for Mark’s hair. 

“Yo, dude, no, stop! You’re gonna mess it up!” Mark shouts, backing away from him. “Don’t you dare touch me!”

“But you can’t do it on your own, my sweet baby, I’ll help you,” Donghyuck continues with the bit.

You remove yourself from Karina’s conversation and break the two idiots up. 

“C’mere,” you gesture towards Mark. 

He instantly comes to you, dipping his head down to your level as you lean against a piece of furniture. Your fingertips curl that one strand just the way he likes it, framing his forehead, and smile when it’s all finished. So focused on his hair, you almost don’t notice how close his face is to yours. Your breath hitches and you lean back to create more distance. 

Removing your hand from his hair, you smooth the non-existent wrinkles on his baggy tee.“There you go, not hard at all.”

“Right,” he murmurs back, body frozen in place but his large, pretty eyes still aimed at you. 

You clear your throat. “I, um, need to–”

“Oh yeah no, sorry,” he stumbles over his words, moving so you can get through. You shuffle past him, pretending to do a last minute check of your crossbody bag. His stare lingers on you as you fuss over your belongings and put on your Mickey ears.

You try to shake away your thoughts but Karina won’t let you. She slides up to you with a playful smile. “Not even eight in the morning and you’ve already had two little moments. When’s number three happening?”

“In your wildest dreams,” you snap back with a hiss, slinging your bag over your shoulder. Wanting to avoid the conversation from moving further, you open the door. “Let’s move, slowpokes, we gotta go!”

“Or yours,” Karina takes the last word as she exits the room. 

You can’t argue with your roommate because she’s right. You've been wanting to be with Mark and calling him yours since your first year. Yes, there were times in the past when it seemed like he wanted the same–moments just like the two you just shared–but nothing was explicitly said or done. Feelings were left unsaid. They lingered in the air until the romantic vibe fizzled out and the moment ended.  To love and be loved by Mark Lee is your wildest dream. It’s the one you’re sure will never come true. However, there’s a sort of magic in the air in Disneyland–a magic that will make even the impossible possible. You wonder if that bit of magic will apply to you, too.

✨ TOMORROWLAND

7:45am arrives and your friends are following you like little ducklings following their mother. Without you, they would be lost causes. 

It’s not your first time in the parks so naturally, you are the one who takes charge. You have all the tickets on your phone, scanning them one by one at the main entrance gate as your friends go through the turnstiles. They wait patiently until you are the last one through the gate. 

Karina holds your hand, giggling as you stroll through Main Street, happily taking in the sights and sounds of Disneyland. Mark, Jeno, and Donghyuck are behind you, phones out to capture anything and everything in sight. You hear them excitedly discussing the map, mentioning things that they want to do, and you mentally take note of them all. 

At exactly 8am, the ropes held by the cast members drop, signaling the official opening of the park. You quickly lead your friends towards the right of the famous castle and fight your way into Tomorrowland for Space Mountain. As one of the most popular attractions, it’s not so bad in the mornings when you’re one of the firsts in line. Jeno mentioned this ride in the past and you are determined to get him on it. 

The crowd is packed like sardines and Karina links her arm through yours as people shove their way through. Amidst the craziness, someone grabs hold of your free hand from behind. From the way his hand fits in yours, you can tell exactly who it is. Jeno’s hand is much larger than this one and it’s a lot rougher than Donghyuck. 

You turn your head to see Mark who asks you a question with a simple look. He knows you’re not too fond of crowds and is using this silent exchange as a check-up. You appreciate the gesture, much like how you appreciate every other way Mark looks out for you, and reassure him with a squeeze of his hand. You’ve frequented the park many times over the years so despite the mass of people, you know the theme park like the back of your hand. Mark returns the action and brushes his thumb against your knuckles. He doesn’t let go as the crowd dissipates into the ride queue and you don’t mind that at all.

As much as you love this dark roller coaster, you partially dread going on the ride, or any ride for that matter. The uneven number in your group guarantees that one person will be a single rider throughout the day and you are certain that will be you.  Jeno and Karina have been dating for a while now, so it makes sense that they ride together. Even with Mark’s hand still in yours, you’re certain he’ll sit with Donghyuck. When it comes to Mark, Donghyuck loves to cling to his best friend, no matter how annoyed the older one gets. It’s their thing and has been since childhood so who are you to get in the way of that? 

The wait goes by quickly, especially with the entertaining debates your friend group comes up with while queued up. It takes your group a mere thirty minutes to get to the front of the line. Once assigned your rows, you wiggle your hand out of Mark’s grip and silently move toward the last gate to make room for Donghyuck.  

“Wait, where are you going?” Mark masks his hurt with a confused tone.

“To the back,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Oh,” his tone drops and you can barely hear him through the echoing sounds of the ride. “I thought–”

“Huh?” you shout from the back row.

Seeing you in the last row, Donghyuck pauses for a second as if contemplating on where to go. “Wait. Why are you here?”

“What do you mean? Are you saying I can’t be here?”

“No. You’re supposed to be–” Your mischievous friend is cut off by the gates opening and the employees instructing you to enter and lower your lap bars. You do what they say and Donghyuck sighs before moving to sit with Mark.

You notice the frustrated look on Donghyuck’s face and an exasperated one on Mark’s but it’s too loud in the room to hear whatever serious thing they’re discussing. You try to lean in closer to catch a glimpse of their conversation but by the time the safety checks are done, you’re launched into darkness at a high speed with the ride soundtrack and Mark’s screams of terror filling your ears.

The ride ends quickly and you all rush to find your photo. Everyone in your vehicle looks like they enjoyed the ride minus Mark, who hid his handsome face in Donghyuck’s arm. The green-eyed monster makes a short appearance in your mind and you wonder how it would’ve been if you stayed with Mark. Would he cling onto you like that too, with his arm looped through yours and his face buried in your neck?

“Why didn’t you tell me this was a roller coaster?” Mark whines as you take a picture of the screen. You immediately send it to your group chat and Giselle, the one person missing on this trip, reacts to it right away.

“Because I knew you’d try to get out of it, you scaredy cat.” 

“Rude,” he scoffs, clinging onto you as you lead them to a breakfast spot. 

“Spidey, it’s really not that bad.”

“Yeah, says the thrill seeker,” Mark pouts at you, which makes you pinch his cheek. It’s not as soft as it used to be, his baby fat from your first year long gone. It’s replaced by the prominent bone structure that only highlights the features that you secretly want to kiss. “Warn a guy next time.”

“Okay, okay but you still did it! I’m proud of you!”

“Yeah but…” His voice trails off.

“But?” You echo, wondering what Mark wants to say.

He looks shyly at you, a faint redness painting his skin, “Can you sit by me next time?” He asks because you make him feel brave even when he isn’t. 

Mark’s timid request has you grinning from ear to ear and your heart beating faster than any roller coaster you’ve been on. Your best friend is expecting an answer, you can tell by his teeth sinking into his thin bottom lip and brown boba eyes widening with each second. 

“I mean, you know, like, sitting with Hyuck is cool,” Mark stutters when you don’t answer, trying to explain himself, “but I’d–well, I thought you were gonna sit next to me?” His voice raises at the end due to nervousness and you can’t help but giggle. 

“You mean, you were gonna leave poor Hyuck all alone?” you poke fun at him.

Mark deadpans, “He’d survive on his own.”

“I mean, I’ve been here before and it’s everyone else’s first time. I’m okay riding by myself,” you push back with a frown, trying to convince Mark and yourself for that matter, “I just want to make sure everyone is having a good time.”

“I get that but–”

“We’re here!” you cut him off, stopping in front of a quick-service restaurant. You gesture to the door and the others go inside. 

Donghyuck, Jeno, and Karina make their way in. You move to follow them but Mark stops you with a hand to your wrist. He hesitates, his mouth opening and closing, and you patiently wait for what he needs to express. The boy lets out a long exhale. 

“Look, what I’m trying to say is that riding with Hyuck is fun and all but I…” He pauses again. Mark has this habit of not finishing a full thought and you think this is one of those times. Despite that, you listen attentively. “I want you to be my ride partner today, okay?”

And again, your heart shoots to the moon. Its fuel is the adrenaline that runs through your veins as you process his words. A hint of a smile begins to peak out as Mark fuses in front of you.

“I mean, like, I’ve been to theme parks with Hyuck since we were kids, I’m not missing much with that and I just–I kinda–you know–want to experience things with you today.”

The way he confesses this, like every other thing Mark does, is adorable. You hope your forgetful brain will store this memory along with the rest of your core ones. He’s about to go off on another rant, you can tell by the small puffs of breath he takes and the redness that’s flushing his ears, so you end it before it starts. 

You cup a hand over his cheek to stop him from going even further and your fingers sense his rapidly beating pulse. “Okay,” you reply softly. 

That one word alone has Mark’s expression changing from an unsure one to the brightest face you’ve seen him make all morning. He rivals the sparkles on top of the castle and the bright sun that’s shining over you. 

“Really?” He perks up.

“Yeah,” you giggle at his change in mood, “now let’s get some food in you, Spidey boy.”

✨ THE CASTLE

“Get out, Hyuck! Why are you like this?” Karina yells from her spot beside Jeno, clearly frustrated with your friend. 

Karina and Jeno stand at the side of the castle, far enough from the crowds but close enough to still get their picture with the iconic landmark. Donghyuck is just out of frame, ready to jump in to ruin whatever adorable shot the couple is trying to take. It doesn’t really matter since you’re continuously snapping away on Karina’s phone. Knowing those two, more than one picture will turn out beautiful. Looking at them, how could they not?

“Because you’re taking too damn long and I want pictures too!”

“You already got yours!” Completely used to their bickering, you shake your head behind the camera.

She’s right. You’ve already taken everyone’s solo pictures at this picturesque spot–Karina taking the longest–and now there were requests for group or partner shots. Jeno, being the perfect Instagram boyfriend, helped take the shots of you and your girl best friend with no pointers needed. You thought you were almost done with this photoshoot but you guessed wrong.

“Not with Mark though!” Donghyuck shouts back, pulling Mark to his side.

“Yo, wait, what?” Mark squeaks.

“You got good enough shots, so move!” Donghyuck has no shame when shoving the resident couple away and dragging Mark to the exact place they stood. You shoot Karina an apologetic look, handing her phone back, right before you grab hold of Donghyuck’s device.

The younger of the duo, as affectionate as he is, has no problem hugging Mark tightly for a picture. Mark sighs but goes with it without much of a fight. You take pictures of Donghyuck hugging Mark from behind, clinging onto the older’s arm, forcing him into making a heart and standing back-to-back. As this goes on for several minutes, you endlessly snap pictures, not even looking at the screen anymore. While doing so, you miss the hushed conversation that happens at the other end of the camera. 

“Why am I doing this with you?” Mark hisses in between a grin. His arm around Donghyuck tightens and the younger one almost chokes at the sudden attack. “Are we done yet?”

“Why? Is there someone else you want to take pictures with?”

“Shut up.”

“I will not,” Donghyuck whispers under his breath, wiggling out of Mark’s grip. His volume raises as he announces, “Mark, catch me!” With that, the mischievous kid jumps onto Mark’s back and the elder of the duo has no choice but to do what he says.

Mark groans, “Why are you so annoying?”

“I will continue to be annoying until you man up,” Donghyuck nuzzles his forehead into Mark’s hair with a smirk. “I could keep this going or–”

With that, Mark lets go of his friend’s thighs and Donghyuck slides down with a helpless yelp. The boy is dramatic while dropping to the ground but Mark pays little attention to the action. Instead, he smiles shyly at you.

You raise an eyebrow at the duo’s suspicious actions. “Are you guys good or can we move on now?”

“I–um, actually–” He’s stuttering over his words more than usual, a red tainting his normal skin tone. You know he’s embarrassed but you can’t figure out what’s making him feel this way. The chaotic duo is up to their usual antics of Donghyuck being irritatingly touchy and Mark slowly losing his patience with it all so there’s no visible variable in your eyes. So, what’s the difference in this situation?

“What’s up?” When he doesn’t answer right away, you take that as a sign to keep moving. You turn your body away from him, adjust the straps of your bag to feel more comfortable, and get ready to move on. The park app on your phone is open to all the current wait times and you note that Fantasyland has low numbers, determining the most logical choice for your next destination. 

You open your mouth, preparing to spill out your plan to explore Fantasyland when Mark’s feeble voice breaks the silence. 

You don’t quite hear him the first time, leaning towards him in hopes that will help you focus on his voice alone. The excitement around the area only increases when the park marching band makes their way to the center of the castle for their afternoon set. Mark huffs in frustration when you fail to hear him for the second time. 

But as they say, the third time’s always the charm.

“Take a picture with me!” he yells when the band goes silent. The flush on his face increases tenfold and you almost coo at how flustered he is. His eyes were wide, almost begging for you to grant his request. His ears match the color of his Spider-Man plush hanging on the belt loop of his bottoms. 

Wanting to tease him a little more, you say, “We already took a group picture, Marky.”

You hold back your laugh when his hand goes back to fumble with his hair. He muses it, the strands now messy, making him look even more endearing than ever. 

“Yeah but–you know what I mean,” Mark’s voice drops at the end, his lips forming a pout. How desperately you want to peck his cheeks but you refrained, still scared of crossing that line. His brows furrowed. “You know what, never mind, dude, let’s go.”

Just as he began to walk away, you tugged him back into place. “I know what you meant, Spidey, I just wanted to mess with you.”

“You’re so mean to me,” he sulks and your fingers reach out to pinch his cheeks. It’s not quite a kiss but it’s close enough. 

You run your fingers through his messy hair, quickly fixing it and Mark just lets you, enjoying the little touches you are so willing to give.

“Hyuckie, can you please?” Donghyuck knows exactly what you’re asking of him, taking the phone out of your hands. He sets your phone to 0.5, bends down to get a better angle, and begins to snap away. All the while, you and Mark are a bit awkwardly standing side-by-side for the pictures. Your bodies are stiff--his hand is barely around your waist while his other hand is holding up a peace sign. You copy his pose, your fingers automatically making a V. 

“You guys,” Donghyuck sighs, grabbing the attention of Karina and Jeno, “at least act like you’re having fun with these pics. We’re at fucking Disneyland right now.” 

Karina laughs at how hopeless the two of you are. She takes pity on you and jumps in to give directions on how to improve your poses. “Mark, if you can just tighten your grip around her waist–”

Mark gulps, his nerves at an all-time high. Your best friend underestimates his own strength as he does what he is told. It happens a little too abruptly and you’re suddenly lurching into his body. Your head lightly hits his chest and you place a hand on the spot to create a little distance. He immediately fusses over you, looking down to check if you’re okay and it turns you into a giggling mess. 

“I’m fine, it’s fine,” you reassure Mark with a bright smile on your face.

Once he notices that you are nothing but smiles, the curve of Mark’s pretty mouth matches yours. It brightens his handsome face so much that it matches the glitter found at the castle tops. You take a mental picture of the face he makes, eyes and nose scrunched up with happiness, and the golden glow of the summer sun illuminating his beaming aura. 

Mark shakes his head and chuckles, pulling you into a hug. You sink into his hold, your chin perching on his shoulder. 

In your mind, Mark Lee is your (awkward) Prince Charming. While you stand together by the castle, you cherish every second he makes you feel like royalty.  He rocks you for a couple of seconds, swaying to the song playing in his head, and then pulls away. His stare, however, never leaves yours. You don’t dare break the connection. Your eyes curve up into little crescent moons and your hands drift back down to his chest. You feel the slight heaving from his laughter and it makes you giggle even more. 

“Stop laughing at me,” he says with a smile.

“Never,” you reply, sticking your tongue out at him.

The two of you are so caught up in your little moment, that you forget that your friends have phones in their hands, documenting everything that just occurred. 

“Oh, that one’s cute,” Karina says, snapping the two out of your shared reverie. Jeno and Donhyuck’s heads peak over her shoulders to look at the picture she’s talking about and they hum in reply. Then, she lifts up the phone to your eye level. You and Mark lean forward to take a closer look but the boy refuses to let go of you as you scroll through the selection.

Your finger swipes through what feels like thousands of photos before landing on one that catches your eye. In the photo, you’re so consumed in your laughter, lids closed happily and your dazzling smile half-covered by your hand. Mark holds you in his arms, fondly looking at you with sparkling eyes.

You stare at it a little too long, taking in the way he looks at you. You steal a glance at him and he’s wearing that same soft smile as he scans the photo. It made you wonder if your best friend always looked at you that way. You wonder if this was your first time making note of it. 

You pull yourself out of it, knowing that if you ruminate on it anymore, you'll sink into a deep neverending ocean. Your finger taps the bottom of the screen and the heart fills up, adding the picture to your favorite album. You just know this is a picture that had to be included in your photo dump.

“I like this one,” you muster out, fighting the urge to make eye contact with him.

You feel a squeeze around your waist, one that lingers for a moment, and hear him whisper, “I like this one too.”

Mark says it with certainty and with a hint of longing like there’s a deeper meaning behind his words. 

There is, of course, a message buried in his words. Mark likes how it’s just the two of you in the picture. He likes how it encapsulates how happy the two of you are in each other’s company. He likes it because it shows how in love with you he is. Mark especially likes it because it has you in it.

Mark Lee likes–no, loves–anything with you in it.

Mark loves you. 

Point blank.

Mark loves you.

And Mark hopes that by the end of the night in this magical place, where anything can happen, he can gather enough faith and trust in himself to tell you how he truly feels.

✨ FANTASYLAND

While strolling through Fantasyland, where all things fairy tales come to life, you make a pit stop at a store filled with costumes for princes and princesses. Your friends were amazed to see that deeper into the store, there was a salon that catered especially to children. All the kids sitting in the salon chairs were beaming with excitement as they got their hair and makeup done while dressed up as their favorite characters.

Karina coos as a little princess dressed as Rapunzel passed by her. She ran her fingers through the skirt ends of the costumes, admiring all the different dresses, while the boys immediately reached for the plastic weapons and shields. You hear their dramatic noises as Donghyuck stabs Jeno with a sword. Mark’s familiar laughter bounces off the walls as the fight continues, his hand shakily recording the ridiculous exchange.

“What is this place?” Karina asks curiously, turning to you for an answer. You knew she would love this place–the girl, although people perceived her as a tough girl, loved anything that had to do with princesses. 

There’s a sparkle in her eye, which only brightens when she approaches the section belonging to her favorite princess. Karina grabs hold of a pretty character headband, removing the one that’s on her head and tries on the new one. She spins to face you, silently asking if it looks good on her, and you nod enthusiastically, giving her a thumbs up. 

“Welcome to the Bippity Boppity Boutique,” you reply happily. Pointing to the cast members working on their guests, you continued, “They’re called Fairy Godmothers in Training. They help the kiddos with their makeovers.”

“Have you done it before?” Mark pops up out of nowhere, a little out of breath from the play fighting he did with the other two. He must’ve joined in the little spar after taking some pictures.

“Yeah, when I was little. I was Cinderella,” you laugh, remembering how pleased you were to be in the chair. You remind yourself to look for those photos; it’s been a while since you’ve seen them. “Can’t do it now as an adult though. Sorry, Rina.”

“Then why’d you bring me here?” She pouts at that, “To torture me? That’s mean. There goes my dream of being a princess.”

Mark bites back a chuckle at her bitter response and Karina has no trouble slapping his shoulder to shut him up. You choose to ignore the childish exchange.

“Well,” you start to say, inching towards the counter where a cast member eyes you curiously. “We can’t get full makeovers but we can get pixie dusted.”

“Pixie dusted?” Mark echoes, tilting his head in confusion. Your fingers twitch and you fight the urge to pet his head.

“The fairy godmothers have wands with them and they basically sprinkle glitter on top of your head while you make a wish. It’s really cute!”

The light in Karina’s eyes glows even brighter than before. “Really? Oh my god, can I do it?!” she asks, bouncing on the heels of her feet. 

“I knew you’d like it,” you giggle.

“Babe!” She calls Jeno over. 

His head pops up over a display, resembling a puppy hopping out of a hole they just dug. “Yeah?”

“Get pixie dusted with me,” Karina requests, reaching out for him with her wiggling fingers. 

Jeno quickly sets down the toys he was playing with, leaving a whining Donghyuck behind, and follows his girlfriend’s lead blindly. 

You and Mark watch them silently, both with smiles on your faces, as the couple holds hands and closes their eyes. The worker mumbles a little spiel as she taps her wand, the glitter raining down on their heads. Your camera is at the ready, finger holding down on the burst button for this special moment, capturing Karina’s tiny squeals and Jeno’s chuckles as the pixie dust settles in their hair and on their skin. 

“Anyone else?” The Fairy Godmother in Training asks politely, looking at you expectantly.

Mark nudges your side. “You gonna do it?”

“Of course. I’ll never pass up getting pixie dusted,” you say matter-of-factly, stepping forward.

“I want to do it, too,” Mark proclaims, stepping with you.

You laugh and warn him, “You wanna deal with glitter in your hair? It’s going to stay there for days.”

He shrugs, “They grant wishes, right? Maybe I need mine to come true.”

“Oh, yeah? And what wish is that, Spidey?”

He holds a slender figure to his lips. “If I tell you, then it definitely won’t come true. And I need all the help I can get with this one.”

You eye him suspiciously and when he doesn’t give it up, you sigh in defeat. Preparing yourself for the glitter, you bow your head down and close your eyes with your fingers linked together in the tightest hold. Your best friend nudges his forehead against yours and you let out a surprised giggle.

Just like Mark said he needs all the help he can get. He isn’t wishing for any regular thing. He wishes for something more precious than that–your heart. 

Sure, this is most likely playing make-believe but Mark Lee wants to believe in it. Maybe this is the little bit of magic he needs. Some might say he’s too old for this sort of thing but he wants to believe in fairy godmothers. He wants to believe in the shiny powder that they call pixie dust. He wants to believe in the magic that you do.

So when the glitter pours down on him, Mark shuts his eyes tightly and grips your hands with all his might. 

Mark wishes for your wish to come true,

Mark wishes for your happiness.

But most of all, Mark wishes to be yours.

Your next stop is quite the staple in the park and it’s a must-do on your list. Luckily, they all agree with you and suddenly, you are in line for the iconic teacups. For the summer, the wait isn’t too long–a mere fifteen minutes before it’s your group’s loading time. Before getting on the ride, the five of you decide to break into two groups instead of all squeezing into one tiny spice.

In their excitement, Karina and Donghyuck rush to claim a vehicle. Donghyuck lightly shoves Karina’s side when he realizes they are both aiming for the same cup, causing her to lose her balance. She groans once he hops into the pink teacup with hearts decorating the sides and scurries to grab another pink cup. 

“Why are you two like this?” You shout after them, shaking your head.

“When are we not like this?” Hyuck shouts back, his arms already spread across the rim of the cup. He calls you to join him and you do, closely followed by Mark.

Once you are seated and the door to the vehicle is closed, Donghyuck’s expression changes. “We need to spin this baby as fast as we can and we need to last longer than”–he sends a playful glare towards Jeno, whose hands are already resting on the wheel–“them.”

“Oh god, not this shit again,” you roll your eyes. 

The boys have an ongoing competition when it comes to spinning rides like these. Whoever spins for the longest period wins; the losers have to treat the winners to a prize of their choice. In the past, it’s been food, plushies, and anything else you can think of. 

“Can we just be normal for once?” 

“Bubs,” Mark laughs, “when are we ever normal?”

“Touche.”

Donghyuck dramatically drops his hands on the wheel, “Are you ready?”

There’s really no point in this competition. Although Jeno has a stronger build than you, Mark, or Donghyuck, there are only two of them in their cup as opposed to the three of you. There’s a clear winner. Despite that, you copy your mischievous friend’s actions,  a smile breaking through your unamused facade. “Alright, Hyuck.”

The spiel is blasted over the speakers, the music begins, and off you all go. Laughter surrounds you as the ride begins to spin. Your hands speedily make work and giggles spill out of your mouth when your hands pile on top of Donghyuck. Your friend matches your enthusiasm, his face crinkled in concentration as he turns the wheel, his whole body moving along with the teacup. You steal a glance at Jeno and Karina; seeing them only fueled your competitiveness and motivation to win this useless contest.

Mark, on the other hand, did not add to the spinning. He just watches his best friends, phone in hand. The device captures the most candid moments of you—smile wide enough to hear your laughter through the screen, hair flying in the wind, hands either gripping the wheel or Donghyuck when the cup goes a little too fast. 

Mark snaps a picture of you and Donghyuck cackling, bodies thrown over each other in the height of their fun. Even when your gorgeous smile is aimed at his best friend and not him, jealousy isn’t coursing through his veins. A warm feeling does instead—Mark just loves to see you happy.

He captures one last picture of you, your bright grin shining at him, and your hand reaching towards his camera. If someone were to play that Live Photo back, they would hear the giggles living in your voice as you call Mark’s name to join in on the fun.

This picture is the one he saves in his favorites folder and of course, in his heart.

✨ AVENGERS CAMPUS

“You’re nervous, aren’t you?” you ask Mark although the answer is obvious. Ever since you got in line, the boy beside you fidgeted with anything and everything possible. When he wasn’t playing with the keychains on your bag, he messed with the drawstrings of his cargo pants. He had a hard time staying still.

“No one asked you, Bubs," Mark hisses. His voice softens a moment later when he apologizes for snapping. The fussiness he exhibits is adorable in all kinds of ways and you fight the urge to mess with his hair in the meantime. You know it would only make him feel worse.

“It’s okay to be nervous, you know,” you reassure him as the people in front of you step forward. “It’s not every day you meet your childhood hero.”

“Isn’t this–I don’t know–a bit childish of me to feel like this? I mean, it’s just a guy in a suit.” 

“Hey,” you say, hating the way your best friend tried to bring himself down, “we’re here to let our inner child out. If you’re nervous or excited or whatever you’re feeling, just feel it.”

Mark sighs as the line moves again. “Right. You’re right.”

You laugh, ruffling his hair, “Aren’t I always?”

The boy groans, fingers immediately rising to fix his fringe. “Don’t mess it up, dude, it’s almost my turn.”

A soft giggle escapes your lips instead of an apology. You’re so fond of him. “You’re too cute.”

His cheeks flush with a bright red which only increases his cuteness factor. Mark, flustered as ever, opens his mouth to ask what you mean by that. His sentence is interrupted by the character attendant calling for the next person in line. Your best friend’s nerves are at an all-time high at this point and he looks to you for support.

You shake your head negatively and gesture to the phone in your hand. “This is all you, I have to take your pics!”

Mark sticks his tongue at you in retaliation before taking a deep breath. He approaches the awaiting figure with a cautiousness you’ve never seen from him. But with all due respect, Spider-Man is standing right there in front of him. If your favorite comic book and superhero character of all time stood in front of you, you’d probably react the same way. 

“H-hey,” Mark stutters out. You stifle a laugh as you snap the first picture of Mark and Spider-Man shaking hands.

“Hey, man, what’s your name?” Spider-Man greets enthusiastically. He gestures to Mark’s Spider-Man shirt, “Love the shirt.”

“It’s Mark,” he manages to say, “I’m a big fan. We just went on your ride and it was so cool.” Mark gestures to the building behind them, which housed the ride. It was an interactive ride that tasked the riders to help Spider-Man save the Avengers-themed area by shooting webs with motion-tracking technology. “My arm’s kinda tired though, I don’t think I could shoot webs like you.”

His rambling comment makes Spider-Man chuckle, his voice muffled through the red mask. “Yeah, I guess slinging webs isn’t for everyone. But hey, maybe if you train more, and go on the ride a few more times, you’ll be just as good as I am. We’re always looking to recruit new members to the team. You look like you’d be a great addition.”

Mark’s eyes glow with delight as the actor continues to shower him with compliments. “Yo, wait, that’d be so cool!”

“Should I show you some poses to start off with?” Spider-Man excitedly suggests. Mark easily complies and happily follows all the instructions the superhero gives him. While doing so, they stare right into your camera and you snap several photos of each pose. 

The joy radiating off of Mark’s face is enough to make your heart soar to a new height. The merriment he and your other friends exhibit as they make their way through the park is why you keep coming back. Disneyland brings everyone’s happiest self out and you will never grow tired of seeing people’s youthfulness shine through. 

“Got ‘em!” you shout from your place, giving the duo a thumbs up. 

You laugh as both of them return the thumbs up with a lightning-quick speed. Many people pointed out Mark’s speedy reactions, calling them his Spidey senses. Seeing Mark stand tall right next to Spider-Man himself, reacting the same way the character does, makes the term all the more fitting for your friend.

“Hey, you wanna jump in with us for a picture, too?” Spider-Man calls out to you. 

“Oh!” you exclaim, not expecting that at all. Your sole goal was to take Mark’s picture with his hero.  The thought of you joining in for a picture didn’t even cross your mind. “Sure, why not?” you grin, quickly handing the phone to the attendant on standby.

You swiftly shuffle into position, copying Spider-Man’s iconic pose, as the cast member takes a couple of shots on your phone. They prompt you to pose for the professional camera they have on hand as well and the three of you switch up your poses. The wide smile on your face is identical to Mark’s as the flash goes off. A feeling higher than contentment floods your entire being. You’re happy, incredibly so, to be in this moment with Mark and his hero.

You’re happy.

You see Mark dive right into another rambling burst with the prettiest little sparkle in his eye and you’re in love.

You’re happy and in love with Mark. 

Standing by for just a second, you see Spider-Man turn to you and nod his head in acknowledgment. Wordlessly, you open your arms to ask for a hug and the character accepts. “Thank you for making my Spidey’s day,” you whisper as Spider-Man squishes you to his side. “It means a lot to us.”

The actor catches onto the nickname and comments, “He’s your hero, huh?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s my everything,” you confess under your breath and your face immediately heats up upon realizing what you said to a complete stranger.

“Your secret’s safe with me.” 

The moment passes so quickly, that Mark doesn’t even grasp that two of his favorite people held their own side conversation. You give Spider-Man one last wave, retreat back to the attendant who hands you your phone, and stand off to the side to swipe through the pictures. Mark stops his little rant to watch you with a slight tilt of his mouth.

“She’s a good one,” Spider-Man brings Mark out of his thoughts, “We could use a recruit like her too.”

“She’s really special,” Mark lets out a fond laugh as you happily show your friends the pictures you’ve captured. “She’s my MJ, man.”

The character beside him laughs, not out of ridicule, but because of the similarities the two of you share. “Does she know that?” 

“Nah,” Mark’s hair ruffles with the breeze as he shakes his head. “Not yet.”

“Better let her know soon then,” he pats Mark on the back, gently pushing him in your direction. “And don’t let her go once you have her,” his hero adds as an afterthought. 

Mark turns back to give Spider-Man one last smile, “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

Mark Lee doesn’t have you in the way that he wants to, at least not yet, but once he does, there is no way he is letting you out of his sight. He may be the one who carries the heroic nickname but you are the one who has caught him in your web of love. Wherever you go, you have his whole heart. 

You are his whole heart. 

How can Mark Lee ever live without his whole heart?

✨ CARSLAND / SH-BOOM

“Hurry up, hurry up!” you call to your exhausted friends, who drag their feet behind you. 

“But we’re tired,” Karina whines as her steps grow heavier. She’s stolen her boyfriend’s hat to beat the heat but has little luck doing so. Jeno, noting this, turns his portable fan to face her. She wearily smiles at him, squeezing the hand conjoined with hers to thank him.

Donghyuck echoes Karina’s sentiments but you ignore their complaints altogether.

There’s no time to slow down, you think, as you make note of the time. The sun is about to set and your group still hasn’t reached the spot you want–no, need–to be in. You understand their exhaustion because you feel the same way but deep down, you know the hustling will be worth their while. 

“You guys, just do what she says,” Mark comes to your defense, giving you a reassuring glance, “I mean, she hasn’t let us down this whole day. I’m sure whatever she’s rushing us for will be worth it.”

You weave and bob through the crowds with ease and your friends fall in line behind you. You pass through the entrance of Avengers Campus and lead them straight into Carsland. A mass of people are gathered at the entrance of the land and you cringe at how packed it is. But upon hearing Donghyuck gasp with excitement, you grin and bear it. In the past, your friend mentioned that Cars was one of his favorite childhood movies. Since you’ve found that out, you’ve gifted him a Lightning McQueen present every year for his birthday.

“Holy shit, bro, I’m in Radiator Springs,” Donghyuck clutches your arm, “This is the best thing ever.”

“Oh, believe me, Hyuckie, it gets even better,” you say, pulling your friend along with you. You giggle at his reactions to every little detail you point out–how everything is built to scale, that all visitors are meant to be cars, how every third blink of the traffic light is slower just like the movie–and his brown eyes widen in childlike wonder.

Once again, Mark stands back as you take care of Donghyuck. He appreciates all the thought you put into this trip–making sure you know everyone’s specific interests and adjusting the day’s itinerary to meet everyone’s wishes. Jeno wanted to get on every thrill ride possible, so you purchased the Lightning Lane express passes to guarantee he had a good time. Karina wanted to feel like a princess, so you took her to the Boutique to get pixie dusted and scheduled time in the Fantasyland area to take as many pictures as she wanted. You spent a bit of time in Avengers Campus so Mark could get the entire Spider-Man experience. And now, you’re expertly guiding Donghyuck through Radiator Springs, equally excited as your friend who’s experiencing everything for the first time.

When everyone else voiced how worn out they were throughout the long summer day, you kept the spirits up and took care of each and every one of them. You may have not outwardly mentioned how spent you were but Mark caught onto the signs. While you were busy tending to each person's wants and needs, Mark found himself taking care of you. You’ve done so much for the group, he wonders what exactly he could do in return.

“Alright, stop right here,” you stop in the middle of the land, granting the group the perfect view of the land, “and face this way.” 

“Why are we stopping? Isn’t the ride right there?” Donghyuck points to the end of the area. “I thought we were heading there.”

“Yeah,” you reply, “there’s something we gotta do first.”

“What’s everyone standing around for?” Jeno asks, hugging Karina from behind. 

The others take a look around to see that a large crowd has formed in this area of the park, all facing the same way. Everyone is eagerly waiting for the same thing you are, their phones propped up in the air. You take another peek at your weather app and it deems it around one minute before sunset. Perfect. 

“Well, my good sir, you are about to find out,” you answer cryptically.

You squeeze Donghyuck’s hand. “You ready, Hyuck?”

“For wha–” His sentence is cut off by the area loop music increasing in volume. Everyone around you cheers as Sh-Boom by The Chords starts to blast through the speakers. “Oh my god.”

The rest of Donghyuck’s sentence is trapped between his teeth as the neon lights, starting from the furthest point of the area, begin to light up. It’s an exact replica of the movie, the lights flickering on with the beat of the old-time music. The bright lights resemble your friends’ expressions, the giddiness of experiencing this iconic moment apparent on their faces. Donghyuck is practically glowing with childlike wonder, bouncing on the balls of his feet. You snap a photo of him as he continues to take it in. Jeno sways Karina back and forth, his arms wrapped around his girlfriend’s waist and chin resting on her shoulder as she records the whole thing.

Smiling, you turn to look at Mark whose eyes are solely trained on you. His phone is in hand, aimed in your direction, and you assume he took a picture of the lit-up signs behind you. “Isn’t it so pretty?” you ask, hands gesturing to the entire area.

Mark’s gaze doesn’t falter, doesn’t leave you when he answers, “It’s the prettiest.”

A heat spreads to all parts of your face and body at his flirtatious response. You turn away from him, too embarrassed to meet his soft stare. “It’s one of my favorite times of the day. My family always came here at sunset just to watch it. It’s fun watching everyone’s reactions and seeing people dance to the music, like them”–you point to a dancing couple, the man spinning his partner and the woman laughing gleefully–“I dunno, it just makes me happy.”

“I can see why,” Mark chuckles.

Your gaze lingers on the duo and Mark spots a look of longing in your eyes. Your best friend sees a chance, one as clear as day, and with all the bravado he can muster, Mark takes it. He tugs you towards him and you gasp at the sudden movement.

“What?” you whisper.

Mark sticks out a hand for you to take and bashfully says, “Dance with me.”

“What?” you repeat in shock, eyes dropping from his face to his outstretched hand.

“You heard what I said,” your best friend chuckles, “Dance with me.”

Instead of waiting for a response from you, Mark takes your palm in his and gently places his other hand around your waist. Your breath catches in your throat, anxious eyes meeting his own, and the boy shoots you a reassuring smile. He takes the lead, guiding you through a few swing steps as you dance on the street. You’re a little unfocused through it all, your mind wandering from the warmth of his touch to his unfaltering look. 

“Have you always known how to swing?” you ask as he leads you into a spin.

Mark dances with an ease you don’t expect from his clumsy self. You’re used to his harder, sharper style of dancing he exhibits when you all go out dancing–the lighter style catching you completely off-guard. It makes you fall for your best friend a little more than you already have.

He nods as he catches you in his arms before turning you around again. “Yeah, I learned from watching my parents dance. I only really danced with my mom, though. I guess I was just–” Mark coughs, shaking his head.

“Just what?” You egg him on, wanting to hear what your crush has to say.

“No, never mind, it’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing to me,” you quip.

“Nah, it’s stupid,” Mark tries to dismiss it, distracting you with another spin.

With him being the perfect leader, your sneaker-clad feet move in time with him, following wherever he goes. “Nothing you say is going to be stupid,” you add, squeezing his palm.

You know you’ve won the argument when Mark sighs. He’s so close to you now, you can feel his breath hit your face. There’s a hint of fresh spearmint, coming from the gum you offered him earlier. Any closer and your lips can press right into his, completing the romantic moment that you could only dream about. 

Mark gulps nervously as you look up at him with confusion. The words come tumbling out before he can stop himself from making a fool, “I guess I was just waiting for the right partner.”

There’s more to Mark’s sweet reply than meets the eye. Once again, you burn up at the implications. You shouldn’t assume the meaning behind your crush’s words but something about the way he said it makes you believe that you are the partner he is waiting for. To be deemed worth waiting for is a girl’s deepest fantasy and your heart swells in your chest at the thought of it all.

Despite the rapid thoughts running through your head, the only thing you can spit out is a quiet, “Oh.” 

Mark renders you speechless at the favorite part of the day and in your favorite place in the entire world; he pockets this as a big win. With his warm hand resting at your waist and the other clutching your calm, Mark leads you into a flurry of sequential moves. Never once does he bump into another person in the crowd, he navigates through the small space you’re granted so gracefully. Dancing with him brings you to such a natural high, you feel lighter than air. 

The laughter that spills from your lips fills his heart with joy and as the song reaches its end, the arm at your waist tightens enough to usher you into a dip. As your torso lowers, his body follows your own. He keeps you in this position, his pretty brown eyes glued onto your shaking pupils. He’s so near, that your sight triangulates from his eyes down to his grinning lips. You notice the pink that tickles his skin, from his squishy cheeks to his pierced ears.

As Mark pulls you back up, you circle your arms around his neck and give him the biggest hug in existence. You whisper a light and heartfelt, “thank you,” in his ears and Mark responds by pulling you closer.

While the song that played through the speakers announced, “Life could be a dream,” Mark Lee deems that his life already is. To him, his life is a dream and that’s because you’re in it. 

✨ FIREWORKS

The sun has set and your entire group is tired but the day’s not quite over yet. The five of you are amongst the throng of people seated on the asphalt, bodies splayed in all sorts of configurations. Karina and Jeno are in front of you, whispering happily as they go through all of their pictures together. Donghyuck has no problem taking a nap on the floor, using some plastic bags as his makeshift mattress and Karina’s new plushie as a pillow. Mark, on the other hand, is seated on your right and silently playing a game on his phone. 

The extent of your tiredness didn’t hit until you sat on the floor, a groan leaving your mouth as you fought to find a comfortable position. The ground really isn’t the best place to sit but you have to camp out for the best view of the castle and the fireworks. You find yourself hugging your legs and resting your face on your knees to keep yourself warm. The weather is a lot cooler than it was earlier in the day and the slight breeze has you shivering. 

“You okay?” Mark asks, still looking at his phone.

“What makes you think I’m not?”

“You keep moving around like you’re uncomfortable or something,” Mark pauses his game and notices the goosebumps on your skin, “Bubs, are you cold?”

“Yeah, just a little bit but I’ll deal with it.” You leave out the fact that you’re tempted to buy a sweater from a gift shop, just as you do every single time you get cold in the parks. It’s an expensive tradition you need to break. Plus, there’s no more room in your closet for more cozy crewneck sweaters. 

Another quiver runs through your body as the winds blow through the area. Mark frowns as you tighten the grip around your legs. He immediately shrugs off the zip-up he wore, draping it around your curled-up shoulders. The warmth of the fabric combined with the smell of his cologne hits you all at once. 

“Mark, I told you I’m okay,” you pout at him as he gets up from his spot. He stops you from taking it off, his palms firm on your back. “You’re gonna get cold.”

He disagrees, pulling the hood over your head. “Nah, I run hot anyway. I don’t want you to get sick or anything so just leave it on, okay?”

“But–”

“For me?” Mark pushes. He smiles when you pout even further, knowing there’s no way you can beat him in this conversation. “That’s my girl,” he adds, a hand coming to cup the back of your neck. A sudden urge comes over him and before he even places what he's doing, Mark plants a tiny kiss on the top of your head. You feel the slight pressure of his lips between the fabric and your head is reeling the second he pulls back.

“I’ll be right back,” Mark whispers before setting off into the crowd.

You’re frozen in place, the ability to respond nonexistent in your mind. You simply watch as he fades away and then, the shyest smile breaks through. There are no clouds left in the sky but you’re officially on Cloud 9, your heart beating rapidly in your chest, and your face buried into the sleeve ends of his jacket.  

True to his word, your best friend returns fifteen minutes later with a plastic bag in one hand and a hot drink in the other. Mark pulls out the coziest Disney-themes blanket you have ever seen, folds it in half, and then places it onto the floor. He motions for you to sit on it and you smile even wider. “Better?” he asks as you settle crisscross on the soft fabric. 

A relieved sigh slips past your lips as the soft material rubs against your skin. “So much better.”

Mark plops himself right beside you. His bare arm presses against yours in an attempt to fit on the blanket. There’s lots of space left but you don’t mind, snuggling right up to his side. He chuckles at your action, draping his arm around your hoodie-clad shoulders to pull you closer. “Got you a hot chocolate too, passed by the cafe across from the gift shop,” your crush gently places the drink in your hands.

“You really didn’t have to,” you mutter, hiding your smile behind the drink.

“Wanted to.” 

“Thanks,” you reply in between your tiny sips.

“Anything for you, Bubs.”

With his arm around you and your body cozied up to his side, the time passes quickly. You’re in your own world, your quiet conversations drowned out by the chatter of the large crowd surrounding the castle area. The cocoa is passed back and forth between his hand and yours, an indirect kiss shared each either of you takes a sip. You laugh over things that happened throughout the day, from Mark’s burnt tongue to all the hideous ride pictures your friends took while wholeheartedly enjoying themselves. 

When Mark takes a big sip, you crack an unexpected joke that leaves him choking on the drink. Your roaring laughter attracts the attention of the others around you but you are so into Mark, you don’t even notice.  He’s a sputtering mess, with the hot drink all over his cheeks and hands. You help him through it, one hand patting his back and the other reaching up to wipe away the liquid with his sleeve. 

“You’re so silly,” you whisper fondly as your thumb rubs against his soft cheek.

“No, you just caught me off guard,” Mark replies, nuzzling into your hand. The moment feels a little too intimate, especially when his fingers reach up to connect with yours, but you don’t want it to end. It finally feels like something good is happening. It feels like the dream you’ve kept deep in your heart is coming true and you don’t want to fight it. 

You pay no attention to the way your friends are staring knowingly at you like this was all meant to happen. Your eyes are solely trained on Mark and how he holds you so delicately as if you were a bubble about to burst. Mark keeps you tucked into him until the five-minute before the fireworks announcement blasts through the speakers. 

Mark is the first to get up off the blanket and you hate how easily he does so. The feeling of pins and needles travel down your legs as you try to get up. You moan in pain, struggling to get up. When you finally rise from the ground, your knees buckle and you lose your balance. A little noise slips out as you stumble, your clumsiness almost leading you straight into another person. Strong hands from behind immediately fly to your hips to keep you steady and you fall right back into Mark’s sturdy chest. 

His hands remain at your hips as you turn to look at him. You mumble an apology and he clutches your waist a little harder. “Who’s the silly one now, huh?”

“Shut up.”

Even as the moment ends, Mark’s hands stay in place. The only movement he makes is a minuscule tug that molds you into his chest. He hears no complaints from you, just a pleased little sigh, that signals you’re one hundred percent okay with what is happening. 

The surrounding lights dim, projections on the castle come alive, and music that could only be described as magical begins to play. It’s the scene of your dreams–you are in the hold of someone you love as fireworks light up the sky. The show’s just begun and here you are, wishing you can stay in this moment forever.

Seeing as how he’s made it this far, Mark puts on his bravest face and circles his arms around your waist. You hum in approval, resting your hands right above his. He replies by tangling his digits with yours and you smile so widely, it’s brighter than the pyrotechnics shooting off above you. 

The soundtrack isn’t new to you; it’s the show the park features every summertime, so you find yourself humming along to every section and transition that passes. By the time the love-themed section bleeds through the sound system and the castle glows with pinks and reds, you tell your best friend, “This is my favorite part.”

He says nothing in response, too busy admiring you instead of the show. Mark rests his chin on your shoulder, his gaze directed at the side of your face. He takes in the sight of the glow the lights cast on you, your lips curled up as you mouth each and every lyric.

It’s quite obvious that he’s staring at you. Even if you didn’t catch him from the corner of your eye, you feel Mark’s steady breath hit your neck and cheek. Your entire body radiates heat upon this realization. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to calm the hopeless romantic inside you. 

You want to look at him, you really do, but you’re scared of what will follow after you meet Mark’s eyes. But when he whispers about your favorite song playing, your heart swells at his great memory, and you turn. 

The tip of Mark’s nose grazes yours after your sudden movement. You’re right there, less than a breath away from him, and his eyes are filled with immense tenderness. In your years of knowing Mark Lee, you’ve never seen him look at another person the way he’s looking at you at this moment. It’s a look filled with endearment and affection, leaving your heart swelling in your chest. 

You barely hear the boom of the fireworks shooting off, not when Mark’s eyes flitter down to your parted lips. He’s captivated your heart and soul, you can’t help but nudge your nose against his as you inch closer. It’s a silent signal, one he understands without further explanation. Your best friend shuts his eyes, calls upon the glittery pixie dust that sits in his hair and makes his final wish of the night. He wishes for the strength to make his next move. 

Mark’s soft lips touch yours most delicately; the press is merely there, and it throws you for a loop. The kiss makes you so incredibly giddy, that you turn your head even more and your hand anchors itself to his cheek. It keeps you steady as he dives in for seconds, this one more eager than the first. With your favorite love song in the background and the fireworks booming in the distance, you are happier than ever.

You are so happy that your wide grin and little giggles cause Mark to break away for a short moment. He plants another peck amid your laughter and soon he’s chuckling too. The arms around your waist lock you in place as he burrows into the crook of your neck, placing the tiniest kiss where your pulse hammers against your skin. 

Mark’s feet are on the ground but he feels like he’s flying. His heart has grown wings, allowing him to soar to new heights. He feels like he can touch every little star in the sky. Kissing you in this land of make-believe, underneath the fireworks, feels like a miracle and he fears that he will never come down again.

He’s pretty sure the gleam in your eyes mirrors his own. It’s so pretty and bright and magical–it encompasses all the emotions stirring in his chest. They start from his heart, bubble up through his neck, and the words he’s been meaning to say spill out as a crescendo booms throughout the area. “You’re my wish come true.”

Turning in his hold, you circle your arms around his neck. You draw him closer, your lips ghosting against his to say, “And you are mine,” before closing the sentence with another kiss. 

You’ve always loved fairytale endings–how the prince always gets the princess at the end of the story. When he grins against your lips, you realize you’ve been in one the entire time. The story of you and Mark is more than a dream that filled your head. It’s more than something you wished upon a star for. Your story is the slowest burn that led to the greatest happy ending. 

All it needed was a little faith, trust, and a whole lot of pixie dust.

TAGLIST. (tagging my gen taglist and friends that I think will be interested in it hehehe) @winwintea @johtenrecs @lavendersuh @itsapapisongo @nctsworld @hotdogct @smileysuh @suhnnyskiess @jaemdonuts @haetrack @bat-shark-repellant @bebsky

FINAL PARK ANNOUNCEMENT. Hey everyone! Long time no post. I think the last time I posted a fic was in either December or January? I'm happy to be back for a hot second. This fic was inspired by many things: Mark calling his fans "his MJ," my personal visits to Disneyland over the years, and especially the trips I've gone on with friends that I've met on this site. Hehehe. I really hope you all enjoy this rainbow of magic and fluff. Please let me know what you think of it. Your feedback keeps me going! Love always, Nikki <3

GIRLLLL NIKKIII MY LOVE ‼️‼️‼️

I have only gone to universal parks, so the Disney reference did help! And seeing your pictures and stories with friends helped me have a reference too haha 🤣

BUT THIS WAS SIA DORABLEEEE no one can convince me that friends to lovers is always such a sweet and beautiful story, the confusion, the longing faces, the wait, the buildup and finally how they realize the feelings UGH ITS SO PRETTY

You’re happy and in love with Mark. 

I will always love how you describe love, always so endearing and soft, caring. It also shows how you love your special people 💖 shows how you view love and I genuinely hope everyone can find a love as described here 🥹🫶

Unfortunately, Kamomedai defeated Karasuno after Hinata was benched with a fever. You almost felt out of breath watching Hoshiumi call out to Hinata that he would be waiting for him as the little tangerine was escorted off the court. Hoshiumi’s stature and voice had you wrapped around his finger from the sidelines.

Korai celebrated with his teammates after their win, and he was only spared a few three seconds to meet your eyes through the crowd before getting scooped up in celebrations again. You had more important things to do anyway, like support your younger brother through his first loss of the season.

You two didn’t see Hoshiumi much for your third year. You came to cheer for some of Tobio’s games when they got to nationals again and purposefully looked for the white-haired boy but didn’t find yourself lucky. Sometimes you wondered if he looked for you too and the two of you just missed each other. Then it was off to university, leaving that silly crush behind.

Kageyama Tobio, your younger brother by one year, told you about Hoshiumi Korai when he went to the All-Japan training camp in his first year. You simply had to research this guy who thought he was all that. There wasn’t much to find, he didn’t enjoy interviews, but that’s how you knew his name when you two first met. Tobio had called you in the evening one day while at the camp, saying that some guys were trying to pick fights with him even though he couldn’t quite understand it. You adored your clueless brother and just told him to keep being himself and make the most out of his time there. His skillset would speak for itself. He eventually left the camp with a good experience and new inspiration, and you welcomed him home to hear him talk about what the floor was made of. However, your mind kept going back to this little guy with white hair that made Tobio think that Hinata could fly even higher. If you hadn’t been so distracted by that, maybe you would have noticed how bothered Tobio was with Atsumu’s comment about his playstyle.

When said dear little brother got accepted to join the Schweiden Adlers, you were thrilled! Not just because it was a team you used to watch on television, but because that also happened to be where Hoshiumi ended up. Call it silly, but your little crush on him hadn’t exactly worn off as he just got a bit taller and more handsome every year. He was eventually forced to start doing some interviews, and who could blame you for watching them? It’s not fan behaviour, you just.. like.. him?

It might be impossible to believe, but you finally met him again without meaning to. You barely let Tobio open his front door before pushing your way inside, a huge bowl of food that your older sister made you bring from her place settled in your arms. “Tobio, hii. Miwa told me to bring you some food so I’ll just stuff this in the fridge,” you rambled as you toed off your shoes and strolled into his living room. “Oh.. sorry…”

There sat Tobio’s new friends, Hoshiumi and Ushijima. Your brother came up beside you and complained about you just walking in as if you lived in his apartment, so you fired back by complaining about his ungratefulness. Poor visitors didn’t know what they should do and ended up just awkwardly waiting for you two to stop bickering. Ushiwaka tried to share a look with Hoshiumi, but the shorter man was stuck looking at you with his mouth slightly open in awe.

“Well if it isn’t my greatest competitor.” he interrupted, leaning forward in his seat with an incredibly charming, lop-sided grin.

And as you and Kageyama both faced him with incredulous looks that were nearly identical, it clicked. They’re siblings. Tobio had no idea what his teammate was talking about, but you finally fell into a smile at the fond memory, tucking some hair behind your ear. “Little giant, you remember me?”

“How could I forget that sweet look of defeat when we beat you.” he countered, standing up even though there was a whole coffee table between you two. Let’s just say he never worked on his flirting techniques as much as his volleyball techniques. Kageyama watched with a frown but didn’t want to interrupt Korai.

You handed the food over to your brother before rolling up your sleeves like you were squaring up, squinting at the white-haired man for a moment before acknowledging the other one as well. “Sorry, hi. Kageyama y/n, nice to finally meet you,” you said calmly, bowing to Ushiwaka who sharply bowed back with a short answer of his name and a greeting.

Tobio walked to the kitchen to put away the food while you turned your attention back to the shortest man. Hoshiumi hadn’t heard your name before, but now he quite liked it. Like he couldn’t wait for it to roll off his tongue.

“You should come to our game next week.” Hoshiumi blurted out confidently, sitting back down in his seat and glancing to his side where there was space for you to sit down. Not that he dared to ask if you were staying.

“Right, I brought your ticket,” Tobio mumbled, as if suddenly remembering that he had invited you to that one too. You were still quite interested in the sport, helping Tobio practice when you weren’t out with your own friends while growing up. “Here.”

“Thanks,” you said while putting your shoes back on. You playfully ruffled your brother’s hair before waving at the rest of the crowd, letting your eyes linger for a second longer on Korai. “I’ll be there as your fan this time, play well,” you said before leaving so none of the men could see the light blush that covered your cheeks. Hoshiumi was left feeling breathless from the interaction. When you know, you know.

The visit became rather short as you had to move on with other errands, but now you had something exciting to tell your friends while sitting down for coffee tomorrow.

Game day arrived and you put on some of the Adlers merch that Tobio got you before heading to the stadium. You went with Hinata and the two of you enjoyed catching up in the best seats, ready for the teams to come out and play. You sent a couple of snaps of the crowd to your brother as well as a couple of selfies with his friend, hoping to hype him up and show him where your seats were. The number on your shirt said 16, which you just assumed was Tobio’s number since he was the one you should be cheering on, but Hinata had given it a curious look when he sat down. He didn’t know you were so close to Hoshiumi but he didn’t want to intrude and ask.

The game started and everyone around you quickly learnt that you and Hinata could make up a whole cheering squad on your own. Whenever there was anything you could react to, you two would be on your feet and cheering or booing the loudest out of everyone. After a particularly nice kill from Hoshiumi, set up by Tobio, you pointed to the white-haired man and yelled with joy. “Nice kill, little giant!”

Hoshiumi looked at you in surprised glee that suddenly turned into a shock that he had to quickly shake off so they could continue the game. His eyes had gone from your face down to your shirt before he quickly turned away, making you finally sit down and rethink your life choices.

“This is Hoshiumi’s number, huh?” you asked Hinata rhetorically, already feeling the embarrassment and planning out how to destroy the one who gave it to you. You finally noticed the number on the original owner’s shirt and covered your red face with your hands. Now you certainly looked like a fan.

After the match, you and Hinata made your way down and to the back, showing VIP passes to the guards so you could wait in the closest hallway outside the locker rooms. The two of you had gotten into the hype again after your embarrassment and were now on cloud nine after the win. Both reenacting your favourite moments and talking over each other.

Hoshiumi found you very beautiful the first time you two crossed paths, and that never changed. He got so flustered seeing you with his number, but it also boosted his morale for sure. Tobio smirked sideways at him when they were changing, finding himself pretty clever. And it only got better when Ushijima got involved.

“Are you and Kageyama’s sister romantically involved, Hoshiumi?” he asked, ever so formal and making Kageyama crack up. The shortest boy was sputtering in disbelief, face tomato red.

“No! We’re not!” he denied as if the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. It had.

“Oh. Okay.”

When they exited the locker rooms, Hoshiumi and Kageyama found you and Hinata outside, excitedly jumping around and not seeming to notice anyone outside your bubble. Hoshiumi felt this old pride bubble in his stomach, wondering how tall Hinata had gotten now and if you ever went to a black jackals game with his number on your shirt.

So he cleared his throat, making you quickly turn around, flustered by how you could suddenly see his face up close. He was thinking the same thing, and the other two guys were in disbelief at how neither of you decided to start the conversation.

“Nice jersey, y/n.” your brother teased childishly, making you move your stare to glare at him.

“You-“ you started saying before jumping at him and pulling his hair angrily. That was always the best way to get him to surrender his towering height so you could rub the top of his head until he gave up. The older sibling always wins.

“Let go! You said you were a fan so I got you his jersey!” he complained, embarrassed that some more teammates might see this. You did as he asked, dusting your hands off and stepping back beside Hinata. Hoshiumi found you entertaining and even chuckled a little, finally out of the stupor your pretty face left him in earlier.

“I am flattered,” Korai said, making you look back at him and trying to contain your blush. Now he’s all cocky about it, and you wish you didn’t find it so attractive. “Truly.”

“Careful or I’ll beat you up just the same,” you mumbled, biting back a smile. Now, you might think all Hoshiumi could see in that sentence was a challenge, but he was already trying to win another competition.

“I bet you’d look good doing that too,” he said cheekily, cheering on the inside when you turned away first and started walking towards the exit. That’s a win.

“Are we going out to eat or not?”

After getting out into fresh air, you cooled off from your flustered state and fell into more normal conversation. The atmosphere was nice and mostly filled with friendly bickering, but only the two in question seemed to notice their eyes drifting to each other every so often when Hinata and Kageyama were busy yelling at each other.

The dinner was nice, like a group of friends who had very obvious, growing crushes on each other. You sat beside Hinata, across from Korai, and to say it annoyed Korai was an understatement. This was the one thing he absolutely wouldn’t lose to Hinata. He wanted his fingers to accidentally brush against your thigh.

So after everyone went their separate ways, he texted the orange-haired man. Something blunt along the lines of are you interested in Kageyama?

Shoyo: which one?

Korai stared at the message for a moment before chuckling. The girl?

Shoyo: not like you are;)

Korai put a thumbs-up reaction to the message, laughing to himself at how he didn’t even realise Hinata might have a thing for Tobio. Guess it’s a competition, first to ask their Kageyama out. This is just how his brain works.

Hoshiumi is sitting in front of the TV in his apartment and does what he finds to be the most tactical next step. He calls Hirugami and updates him on everything.

“Your heart skipped a beat? Who are you and what did you do to Korai?”

“Shut up,” he said, clearly not angry at all but rather embarrassed that his best friend was calling him out on his uncharacteristic heart palpitations. “It’s so weird, I even imagined her meeting my mom. And you. You’d get along, I bet. She’s like me but sweeter.”

“That’s exactly what I always thought you were missing. A little sweetness.” Hirugami said. It was very clearly supposed to be teasing but Korai got a little stuck on it, a small dazed smile falling on his face as he thought about you rambling on by the dinner table earlier. He looked around his relatively boring apartment, at how there was perfect space for another person cuddled up to his side on the couch. “Korai?”

“Sorry. I just think you had a point,” he admitted. “I have her number now, is it rude to ask her out over text?”

Hoshiumi stared at the message he wanted to send you and for the first time in a long while, he felt a little extra insecure. What if you didn’t actually like him? You could probably get someone like Ushijima. Someone taller.

No. He will be whatever he needs to be to deserve your attention. If only he knew he already was the object of all your desires.

Just like the first time you met, you got ahead of him. He saw your name pop up on his screen and he let out an audible gasp. You played really well today, I was proud to wear your number:)

Korai wrote and rewrote about ten different responses, even requesting some help from his aforementioned friend. Thank you! I appreciated seeing you there.

It was a stale and basic answer and made him subconsciously bite at the tip of his fingernail as he watched your chat. He should have said you looked good in it or something, damn it. Nonetheless, you didn’t disappoint. Would you like to call? I’m bored.

And so he spent the rest of the evening listening to you talk and laughing with you. He moved around his apartment, played with a volleyball he had lying around and held the weirdest poses on the sofa because all his attention was on your voice. By the time you hesitantly thanked each other for the time spent, it was the middle of the night and he didn’t have any other choice but to go to sleep if he wanted to make it to practice in the morning. As he tossed and turned in his bed that night, he couldn’t stop berating himself for not securing a date.

Instead, you and Hoshiumi got into the habit of calling each other almost every evening. It made him happy and built up his confidence enough that he eventually dared ask if he could take you out, just the two of you.

Your first date was fantastic. He took you to play laser tag and the other teams didn’t stand a chance against the two of you. After getting the gear off, you were laughing on your way out and he led you to a restaurant close by. Well planned, of course. You shared two different dishes and it really just felt like you were catching up on years of not being friends.

And what better way to finish catching up on your friendship than ending said friendship with a sweet kiss?

taglist!

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