#he has the same phone case as me..

[lightgamble]

DAREDEVIL: BORN AGAIN | 1.09

You couldn't call me?

[skymantle]

girl who knows something is terribly wrong

(I often think about how Noelle completely ignores Ralsei, to the point that her perception of Ralsei Tea is a completely empty cup)

[viridian-house]

remembering the time I asked my ex to please make some distance between himself & my bestie because of remarks he'd made to me about her body and his response was to get home, sit on the sofa and fold his hands, and look at me and say "since you're thinking I'm cheating on you, I can only assume this means you're projecting your own guilt onto me and you're the one cheating. I'd like to look through your phone now."

and guess who ended up being the one cheating 🥲

[unproduciblesmackdown]

5 years later ghost posting from jason sweettooth williams: "In honor of Halloween and all things ghostly, here is the picture I took of a ghost from the stage of the Lyceum Theater on Broadway. I was on stage in the middle of tech and looked up and spotted this. I think about her often but especially tonight on Halloween! #happyhalloween #ghost #theater #bemorechill #broadway"

[desideriumwriter]

Baby girl?

summary: Derek and Emily find out about Spencer’s (unintentionally) secret kid.

wc: 0.5k

“You have a kid?” Derek gawked, Emily at the desk opposite with the same look on her face. Both staring at Reid.

“A daughter. She’s about to turn two.”

“Almost two years? And you never told us?

“The topic never came up.” Reid shrugged. 

“Well you never showed- you don’t even have a photo of her on your desk!”

“Yes I do! Right here.” Reid picked up a framed photo that sat right next to his computer he rarely used.

The image was the Aurora Borealis, bright purple and green waves displayed in the sky. 

Reid pointed to the corner of the image, it was him, you, and your daughter posing and smiling. You’d really have to look to notice you all in the corner, it’s not something your eye could pick up if you passed by the photo.

“Oh come on, you can barely see that. Don’t you have any other photos of her?”

Reid shifted in his seat, moving to grab his wallet out his back pocket. 

Once it got it, he opened it and turned it to face the two across from him, the clear slot showing a small photo of a baby girl, wrapped up in a soft quilt and smiling.

Emily and Derek both looked at it with dropped jaws. Their eyes darted to Reid’s unbothered face, then back to the photo, then back to his face, then back to the photo again.

They were shocked at how unbothered Reid was by this. It was never a secret though, the conversation just really never came up. He’d let them know when he wanted to.

“You know Garcias gonna be pissed she never got to set up a baby shower for you.” Derek scoffed, breaking the trance he was in. Reid put his wallet back in his pocket.

“Well you said she’s gonna turn two soon, maybe she can help out with her birthday.” Emily added in.

“So you were there for all the big moments? Birth, first steps, first words? Even with all the cases we had?” 

“I guess I got lucky.” Spencer shrugged.

“Lucky? I thought you didn’t believe in that, thought you were a man of science.” Derek mocked.

“I guess I was there at all the right times.”

It all began to click in Emily and Derek’s heads. All the days Reid was given a pass to do paperwork at home rather than being stuck in the office. Checking his cell phone more often. Seeming more busy on the weekends. Looking happier even though he was tired.

They knew it’d be something personal. They knew he had a partner, they knew you. They’ve met you before. But they never thought you’d have a child together.

“Wait, does Hotch know?” Emily said after stumbling over her words first, looking at Hotch's cracked open office door.

“Sharing details about Reid’s personal life is up to him, not me.” Hotch spoke, keeping his eyes focused on the papers he was writing on.

“Oh Garcia is gonna flip when she finds out you told him and not her!” Emily laughed while Garcia walked into the room.

“What? What am I gonna flip out about?” Garcia said, looking back and forth between everyone.

“Pretty boy over here has his own babygirl.”

“Babygirl? I thought we all knew you had a partner? Baby-girl. Baby girl? Oh. My. God!” Garcia's face dropped in shock and realization, she began to move around trying to find a place to put down her mug so she could properly freak out. “You have a daughter?”

back in business writing spencer fics!!!! oh yeah baby!!!!

[fushiguho]

toji’s the type to make you ask nicely if you wanna suck his big, pretty cock. manners are important after all, silly girl! (:

the sparkling crackle of gunfire and shell casings hitting concrete echo from the television. toji idly sprawls himself across the couch, the reposed and delicious spread of his thighs looking like land to be conquered. indistinguishable voices overlap in chatter through the headset that’s fallen loosely around his broad neck; the click of his opposing thumbs another piece of sonic clutter.

there is no doubt that he can feel the ravenous heat of your glare, even amongst the sound of confirmed kills and surging stats. maybe he can hear your lecherous thoughts too because he’s eventually granting you a quiet, dubious glance—long enough to kindle the flame that buzzes beneath your skin, between your legs.

he turns to face the screen again with an incredulous shake of his head, and you can’t help but to answer to your incessant, unvoiced desires. a compelling force beyond your control has you reaching over—and failing—to feel the inticing bulge that rests beneath the fabric of his sweatpants.

“what are you reaching for?” his scar stretches in a crooked smile, gaze still trained on the screen before him. gently, he bats your hand away, sparing you a knowing glance from the corner of his eye. “cock?”

toji huffs an airy breath of laughter when you nod, far too embarrassed to admit what it is you truly want. you gnaw the inside of your cheek, a quiet beat passing. despite the warmth of his peripheral gaze, you reach for him again, and he swats you away all the same, turning to look at you once more.

his gaze descends from the hungry furrow of your brows to the restless fidget of your fingers. god, even the telling press of your soft, bare thighs forces a breath of amusement past his flaring nostrils. the heat of his inspection doesn’t last long as he’s soon redirecting his attention back to his console.

he steals another quick, roving glance of your current state beside him before turning back to the television again. the corner of his lip twitches in an idle grin. “use your words maybe?”

you pout, huffing a frustrated breath. “please?”

“pleeease…?” he prompts, waving an ambiguous hand as he allows the dead air to hang, waiting for you to obediently fill the blank with your desires.

a defeated sigh falls from your lips as you slouch against a cushion of the couch. embarrassed, you give up on your antics, and instead reach for your phone beside you, grumbling in annoyance.

the infuriating man shrugs his shoulders, shaking his head obliviously, but he knows exactly what you want. he can see it in the frustrated scrunch of your pretty face, the salacious heat of your gaze, the not-so-subtle clamp of your thighs as you shift around in your discomfort.

“must not want it that bad then, huh?” he goads.

“forget it,” you mumble, pettily turning your body away from him. “you’re being mean.”

toji pauses his game, furrowing his brows in mild confusion.

“because i want you to use your words?”

“no.”

yes.

“then ask me sweetly.”

you pause—lips pursed in reluctance, pride bitter on your tongue. patiently, he waits, tilting his head like he knows he’s already won this arbitrary game he’s created, and maybe he has. because when your thighs press together again, aching, you finally exhale the words like they cost you something.

“please…” you croak, an undeniable hunger glittering within your irises. “i want your cock.”

“louder.”

you swallow around the lump of pride that burns in your throat.

“you want it, don’t you?” his voice dips into something coaxing. “say it with your chest. use those big girl words and ask for what you want.”

while expelling a throttled breath, you part your lips, fixing to say exactly what he knows you’re about to. with a little more bass, the debauched words tumble out of your mouth. “i wanna suck your cock, okay? i wanna see it… wanna put my mouth on it, please?”

“see? that wasn’t so bad,” he hums, brushing the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip; your mouth parts instinctively, hungrily. “such a good girl when you use that pretty mouth right.”

toji’s hand descends from your face to the waistband of his sweatpants. you watch impatiently as he hooks that pretty cock free—half-hard and heavy. after three, long, languid strokes, he’s waving you over with a subtle jerk of his head, and you don’t think as you scoot closer to him, nestling against his body like a puppy awaiting command.

you look to him briefly, searching for his final nod of approval before you’re delving to taste his cock like your body can’t operate without it. he’s fat and flush against the intoxicating heat of your tongue, a promising erection pressed to your lips. a rapturous moan bellows from your lungs, partially muffled by the weight of his stiffening cock.

“awh, you were hungry for it, huh?” tenderly, he picks away the stray ringlets of hair that have fallen before your eyes, baring the glint of tears that bead against your waterline. “are you a hungry girl?”

a low, burbled sound escapes your overstuffed lips. something suspended between a whimper of pleasure, and the gargle of you swallowing around the warm base of his cock. saliva slips from the cracks of your bulging lips, trailing down your chin and kissing the skin of your throat.

“breeeathe,” he hums lowly, broad chest rattling in laughter. “it’s not gonna run away.”

heat pools devastatingly deep inside your core, hazing the edges of your frayed mind. you whine around his swollen cock, rocking your desperate hips back to somehow relieve the dizzying ache that thrums beneath your panties. if not for his oversized shirt that you wear, toji would certainly see the way your arousal seeps through the unforgiving lace.

in your dazed fit of hunger, you’ve inched significantly closer as you slobber down the length of him, rivulets of saliva cascading down your glistening chin. you’re kneeled just beside him, shoulder pressed against his abdomen as you invade his burly lap, fervently attempting to swallow the entirety of his cock.

your—his shirt rides up your torso, soft fabric collecting near your chest while your pretty hips sway in his peripheral, desperately searching for friction. a big, intentional hand is pulling at the fat of your ass, long fingers dipping dangerously low to skim across your swollen lips through damp fabric.

“is this all you wanted?” his smile is almost endearing as he nudges your panties aside, baring the warmth of gleaming arousal that kisses your pretty pussy. “for me to touch you, hm? while you drool all over my balls like that?” he laughs a little, but it doesn’t come from a place of mockery.

toji accepts the sweet noises of your debauched gagging as gospel, failing to contain his own bouts of pleasure—groaning a deep, pretty sound of approval when the head of his cock slips just a little bit deeper, training your throat to perfection.

“poor baby couldn’t help herself,” he frowns through his breathless syllables. you hardly acknowledge the reverent hand that’s wrapping around your throat. his voice trails into a whisper, sweeter than any honey you’ve ever tasted. “but how could i deny you when you're so pretty and willing?”

a long, calloused finger delves between your messy lips, collecting the sticky essence of your arousal. that poor, swollen clit aches from your overbearing excitement as he slowly eases a lazy digit inside of your fluttering cunt. another finger easily follows, stuffing you from head to toe.

toji groans something nasty beneath his breath when your lips quiver around him, saliva bubbling in your throat. he can feel the way you’re tightening around his fingers, arousal dripping down his hand as he takes care of that pretty little pussy. you choke on a gasp, thighs trembling as you push your hips back, smearing your cunt against his hand, chasing more, always more.

“god, you’re greedy,” he groans, watching the way your hole twitches around his fingers like she’s trying to suck him deeper. “does my greedy girl want more?”

you possess half the brain to acknowledge his remarks of filth—mind so empty that the only thing you can think about is the feeling of his big, burly fingers fucking that cunt so deeply while the weight of his swollen cock rests against your tongue.

all you can do is moan around the fat, throbbing base—ragged and wrecked, hips twitching up with every thrust of his fingers. you’re chasing it, smearing your clit against the flat palm of his hand, sucking him in so greedily that it’s impossible for him to sink any deeper. 

“oh, are you gonna cum like this, pretty?” toji drops his head, tilting his face to observe the stretch of your lips around him. his voice pitches to something intoxicatingly cooing. “you gonna cum all over my fucking hand with my cock so deep in that hungry little throat, huh?”

you’re releasing his cock with a wet smack! of your lips to nod your empty head with fervor, a glittery tendril of saliva tethering your bottom lip to his round, glistening cockhead. while wrapping your hand around his shaft, you dip your head, licking his heavy balls into your mouth with a drunken smile of pleasure.

“fuck—oh my god,” it’s nearly a snarl, pleasure evident in his velvet tone. “you love it, don’t you?” he’s breathless, his mouth slightly agape. “huh? do you love that big cock, baby?” he’s angling his hips toward your face, forcing his heavy erection closer.

“yes,” you pant. “i love it.” sounding syrupy sweet as you fist his wet shaft, thumb gliding over his weeping tip. “god, i love your big cock s–so much.” the rock of your hips is nothing but desperate, your back arching into something animalistic.

“yeah?” you can hear his smile—the lilt of humor in his voice. “would you die for it?”

his cock throbs against the palm of your hand when you nod, delirious in your overwhelming need to release. “i wanna make you cum,” it’s a pretty little whine that tumbles past your slick lips, tongue lolling out to loop around the leaking head of his cock as you stroke him sloppy. “wanna taste it on my tongue.”

and that’s all it takes—his composure snapping like a wire stretched too thin. his hips stutter, cock twitching in your hand as you lean in, mouth parting to take him back down like the nastiest little girl.

your tongue curls over his leaking tip before you sink lower, letting him invade your pretty throat until your nose brushes the raven tufts of hair adorning the base of him.

“f— fuck fuuuuuck,” he groans—deep, wrecked, and guttural. “god, you want my cum in that throat, h–huh?” his voice pitches a little higher, a discernible tremble in his usually composed tone.

your gargled gags of obedience is the only symphony he’d listen to—the only song he’ll ever need. his twitching cock throbs against the soft, wet heat of your tongue. a desperate hand reaching for the nape of your neck to keep you close, breath hitching.

“ohhh my god, baby,” he grits through pearly clenched teeth. “hah—s–swallow it,” mouth gaped, thick, hot ropes of seed spilling down your throat before he can warn you properly. “mmmh, swallow allll that cum you hungry girl.”

toji winces when you hum around him, cheeks hollowing, milking him for all he’s worth. a married amalgamation of warm cum and bubbling saliva cascades down your glittery chin, drenching your hand where it grasps at his jittering thigh. his abdomen tightens with every little gasp, every broken moan of pleasure that tears out of him.

but even amidst his orgasm, he hasn’t forgotten about that aching little cunt. fingers still plugged inside of you, they sink deeper, furling upward to press against your tightening walls. over and over and over, the calloused pads of his digits beckon you, easily pulling your orgasm from the deep, sweltering pit of your stomach.

you can only cry his name in a helpless wail of pleasure when his fingers are briefly slipping out of you, opting to indulgently trail between your quivering lips instead. they’re slickly circling over the pulse of your clit and pressing firmly—the pressure of his touch enough to make you cum all over the palm of his hand.

“yeaaah, let me feel that cumming pussy, baby,” he encourages, a rasping breath catching in his throat while he rubs you through your orgasm. “you needed that, huh?” gently, the pads of his fingers are plap! plap! plapping! against your clit. “needed me to touch you like this? take care of that pussy while you suck my cock?”

you attempt an answer, but it’s all breathless whimpering, hips jolting at the next soft press to your clit. opting for a delirious nod instead, you’re beaming up to press your sloppy mouth against his, kissing him messily while you clamber to straddle his hips.

toji clicks his tongue in disapproval when you reach for his cock beneath you. he knows exactly what you want, but it’s never that easy—not with toji, haven't you learned that yet?

he grins something sinister.

“if you wanna fuck you better ask me nice.”

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Ask Around in the Morgue

Most times, Tim is not a fan of social interaction. If he can acquire the necessary data from literally anything written in text, without the need to actually talk to people, he does that. It's the logical thing to do, come on! People lie, or, even if they don't, they take ages to get to the point, and you can't put them on pause or set aside to return later. Some written resources lie as well, but that is, at least, way easier to prove by relying on several of them instead of a single one.

That saying, he can work in a team — Young Justice is great proof of that. Batfamily, not so much, but then, none of the Bats like working together. Because they are all hypercontrolling, manipulative, and paranoid.

And yet, keeping all that in mind, right now Tim is about to go and speak — using his mouth and words — to a GCPD mortician whom he's never seen or met before in his life.

All because of this report.

More precisely, because of the line 'pls come talk to me if u r a bat' that was inserted right into the file, just between the description of contents of the victim's stomach and the rather unappealing photo of the same thing. Tim supposes the placement was intentional — most people skip over that kind of information, jumping straight to the cause of death. Which is a homicide, by the way.

Not that it's anything unusual in Gotham.

Tim walks through the hallway, keeping his steps silent. Daniel Nightingale, the mortician, more accurately a pathologist, works graveyard shifts — very ironic and no less convenient — and most days, he does so all alone, so Tim is not expecting company. He is just keeping quiet out of habit.

And yet, as he gets closer to the autopsy room, he hears it. The chipper, amused voice from inside.

"You can't just make that shit up, I swear," it laughs, "Oh, Minerva. You were way too old to pull it off." There's a pause, and then it starts speaking again, filled with hidden laughter, "You don't say?"

The door is, thankfully, already half-open. Tim takes a quick look inside, hoping to figure out who's the other part of the alleged conversation, but the only person there — erm, the only alive person — is a guy in a gray uniform and a lab coat. Supposedly, Mr. Nightingale. There's also a corpse of an old lady on the table in front of him, of course, but Tim doubts she can hold up the conversation. A phone call? Or maybe he's just talking to himself?..

The guy raises his head briefly, turning to the door.

"Come on in, lurking in the shadows doesn't suit you," he calls, almost cheerful, and Tim pauses.

He's pretty sure he hasn't made a single noise.

Oh, well. Maybe he did. Maybe the pathologist has an alarm system in case of a zombie apocalypse. Maybe he sees the future. The possibilities are endless.

Tim steps inside.

"I'm here about your note," he says, cutting the greetings and niceties. The pathologist hums, his eyes still on the bare, skinless ribcage of the woman before him.

"Cool. Which one?" He asks without missing a beat. Tim stares; the guy looks entirely too nonchalant, given the circumstances, but that's not the only reason. Daniel Nightingale is way younger than Tim expected — twenty, at most — and he is... well, if Tim had a type, which he doesn't, he would definitely check all the boxes. Most of the boxes. A lot of boxes.

Okay, he's just good-looking, what is he even thinking about, this is getting sidetracked.

"There was more than one?" He asks because that's the logical, reasonable thing to ask. Daniel glances up at him. A tiny strand of hair escapes his pinned down bangs, and the guy huffs, shaking it away from his face. Shouldn't he be wearing a hat?

"Yeah, I put the bat alert in at least five reports I've written. Only two recently, though, so, if you could specify?" He asks. The loose strand of his hair moves all on its own, brushing itself up over Daniel's head. Then, one of the bobby pins comes out, hanging in the air briefly, and goes back into Daniel's hair, securing it from falling again. "Thank you, Minerva," the guy smiles politely, casting a glance to the side.

Tim is not sure what's going on but he has a hunch.

"I'm speaking about John Doe from last week?" He attempts, but Daniel only hums.

"Unfortunately, that doesn't narrow it down," he turns back to the table, looking down into the old lady's open abdomen with a critical eye. "Darling, do you think you'll be fine here all on your own while I speak with our dear guest?" He asks, almost demurely, and Tim is not dumb. Minerva is definitely the name of the lady on the autopsy table. The question is, has the GCPD hired a schizophrenic man during such dire times, or is the guy really some kind of ghost-whisperer?

The chances are, honestly speaking, 50/50. It's Gotham.

There's no response that Tim can hear, but Daniel straightens back up and takes off his gloves before turning to the other side, still away from Tim. "Mind cleaning up?" He asks again and then throws his gloves into the nearest bin. They don't land, but just as Daniel huffs and goes to retrieve them, the gloves float up from the floor like someone invisible picked them up and dropped them into the bin.

"Ah, thank you, Minerva," the pathologist smiles.

Tim feels an uncomfortable chill run down his spine.

"How many ghosts are in here?" He tries for casual, but fails spectacularly, judging by Daniel's chuckle.

"Five," he answers without any pause, "Six, if you count the nonverbal kid that's hiding in Page's cold locker. Anyway, John Doe?.."

A few of the instruments Daniel has used float up from the table and start moving towards the nearest sink.

Tim takes a deep breath.

Either he's gotten himself a new contact in GCPD forensics or a very alarming new meta. 50/50.

But Daniel's smile is 100 percent going to be a pain in his ass.

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 (𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 𝐃𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐎) !! ❞

❝ A LOVE TRIANGLE GONE RIGHT ?! REPORTING FROM THE SET OF THE HIT SHOW JUJUTSU KAISEN ! ❞

✧ pairing: actors!satoru gojo and suguru geto x actor!reader

✧ summary: rumors swirl about a love triangle between you and your two heart throb co-stars on the set of jujutsu kaisen. except in this case, you and your two co-stars are happily dating. but what happens when you get casted in a movie where they want you to have a PR relationship with your co-star? especially when your boyfriends find out who it is—

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, a lot of smut, no curses, modern au, jjk is a tv show, actor au, yes the actors and characters have the same names lol, reader is dating both of them, funny interview hijinxs, this is kind a lot of crack, jealous! gojo + geto, sukuna is here lmao, innuendos, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi-exhibitionism, face sitting (f! receiving), multiple positions, multiple orgasms, sex (p in v), double penetration, creampie, multiple rounds, swearing, fanart by @ / _3aem

✧ wc: 17,900

“Reporters say the love triangle between the actors Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto and their co-star has become even more shrouded in mystery than the show itself!” an influencer reports on your social media of gchoice that morning, nearly vibrating from assumedly her three espressos, “the stars of Jujutsu Kaisen, the fantasy horror drama series written by Gege Akutami have been embroiled in dating scandals over the last few weeks—“ your phone’s notifications cut the audio from the video for a moment until you switch it to silent, “after being spotted leaving Suguru Geto’s loft just two nights ago, she was then seen having a lunch rendezvous with Satoru Gojo—“ 

You lock your phone, rubbing your temples, as the device nearly had an aneurysm from your social media notifications — buzzing itself off your dining room table and into an early death. Your agent was going to have a field day with this, and the main event is going to be your murder. 

“What are they saying about us now?” Suguru sighs, as he emerges out of the shower in only a towel wrapped around his waist, steam rolling out of the bathroom, as you offer him a coffee, his fingers brushing yours as he takes a sip, “my agent is demanding I call him— and I’d like to know what we’ve done now before he kills me,” he says, though he continues to sip his coffee nonchalantly, unbefuddled by the thought of his death. 

“Oi oi, calm down, shouldn’t you be more upset at the reporters than me?” Satoru comes from the bedroom, “Nanamin, just take care of it. Tell them we’re just friends if they ask you — do me a favor and pay off the reporter who got a picture of us kissing—“ and you nearly snort at the thought of Nanami Kento doing any sort of favor for Satoru. 

“You let him kiss you?” Suguru raises an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips, as your cheeks burn, rolling your eyes. 

“Not so much ‘let’ as he just kissed me without a second thought,” you shake your head, drinking your coffee as Satoru continues to bicker with Nanami, “I told him I thought I saw paparazzi but—“ 

“Satoru is do first, ask questions never,” Suguru sighs, but still the smirk remains, as he leans closer to you, his large palm against the back of your chair, “you never let me kiss you in public,” 

And you’re resisting the urge to bite your lip, “You know better — look at what Satoru’s done now—“ 

“And was it worth it, Princess?” Your mind wanders to the kiss — Satoru’s hand against the nape of your neck, his lips sliding against yours, the faint taste of the strawberry cake he had for dessert lingering on his tongue and now yours, and the sticky heat that settled over your body from the too humid night air and his warmth leeching onto your skin, and the eyes watching his need for you made it all the more—

“Maybe,” you mumble, choosing to sip at your drink as Satoru cut off your conversation with his own. 

“Just deal with it, Nanami, that’s why I hired you after all, huh?” He earns a swear from Nanami for the claim that he ‘hired’ him in any way whatsoever, and then his lips curl. “No they aren’t here with me—“ the bespectacled man shouts from the other line, “eh? What do you mean I look and sound like a man who only lies?” And then he’s hanging up, running a hand through his hair, a pout on his lips, “I was supposed to wake up to the two of you, not Nanami’s tirade,” he groans, as he makes his way over to you, only to wrap his arms around you from behind. 

“Well, it is your fault, Satoru,” Suguru smirks over the rim of his cup, “someone couldn’t keep their hands to themselves—“ 

“Jealous, Suguru?” he replies, as he presses a kiss to your neck, “jealous that our princess is much more affectionate with me,” 

Suguru cuts you off, “more like she babies you,” and Satoru’s face sours into a scowl, “if she had stayed at my apartment for the week, this wouldn’t have—“ 

“And then they would have seen me coming to your place, and what good would that do?” 

“Guys—“ you try to speak, but you’re cut off again. 

Suguru tilts his head with a small grin, “Are you lonely? Why don’t you find someon—“ 

“Stop, guys,” you couldn’t take this bickering this early in the morning, though you had grown used to it, “we have bigger problems to deal with than your egos,” you sigh, rising from Satoru’s grip even as he pouts, “we have to be more careful,” 

“But how? We’ve already cut down our appearances together for behind the scenes and even stopped going out for dinner or dates,” Satoru pouts, running a hand through his hair, “next thing you’ll want to break up,” 

“That’s not gonna happen,” you flick Satoru on the forehead, “but we have to do something, otherwise our agents will have us murdered,” 

“And Nanami will join them for sport,” Suguru adds, and you snort, finally finishing your drink, before he walks over to you, fingers under your chin, “so what’s your idea, sweetheart?” 

“Just take a break for a few weeks until the public finds something else to fixate on,” you sigh, “while the episodes air, all we’re going to get is more attention,” 

“We could just take a trip,” Satoru offers, “I own a private island—“ 

“Of course you do,” Suguru says, and Satoru only chuckles. 

“Being envious doesn’t become you, Suguru,” the snow haired actor clicks his tongue at him, before he’s pulling you into his arms, “we could go for a few days, get away from all the noise,” 

“It’s a good idea, but you’re forgetting one thing, Satoru,” Suguru tilts his head, “won’t they notice if we all go on vacation at the same time?” 

“Plus we have interviews to do in the coming week,” you remind Satoru, and he’s sighing, burying his face in the crook of your neck, “but maybe we can go after?” 

“Unless you get that role,” Satoru mumbles against your skin, pressing sweet kisses to the nape of your neck, “have you heard anything yet?” 

You shake your head, a sigh stuck in your throat, “It’s a long shot. This is such a big role and it’s for the lead,” and Suguru is finding his way to you, warm fingers cupping your cheek. 

“They would be lucky to have you — do you know how many people say you were their favorite character? They were ready to fight me and Satoru for you,” he adds with a chuckle, lips ghosting over the swell of your cheek, “I think they would beat us with sheer numbers,” 

“Nah, I’d win,” Satoru says, and you snort, rolling your eyes, “but he’s right princess, how crazy would they have to be not to cast you?” 

“There’s so many other talented people up for the role—“ 

“There’s always going to be someone else,” Suguru cuts you off gently, as his fingers find yours, lacing with yours so perfectly you wondered if it’s what they were made for, “but that doesn’t mean you’re any less valuable or incredible,” 

“And you’re already far more talented than you give yourself credit for,” Satoru adds, “but when do you get the role, inevitably,” Suguru smirks at him, “when would shooting begin?” 

“Probably just after our press wraps for season two,” you lean into their touch, “they still haven’t casted the two leads, but apparently both are down to the final audition,” and you’re pressing nosing Satoru’s cheek, before pressing a chaste kiss to Suguru’s nose, “and that’s why we’ll have to cool it for the next few weeks, ok?” 

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

✧ taglist: @forest-hashira , @supilyu , @yamaguccitadashi, @kentocalls, @magicalgirlb, @ssetsuka , @isabeauwolf , @lemonintrovert01 , @astraecea-silversin , @cerene-dipity , @whorefornoodles , @hobimysolecito , @risuola , @ja-zz , @spider-fan72 , @jayathelostdragon , @therealestpussyeater , @too-much-snow , @umarureid , @rosso-seta , @maddie-jayne , @at-the-chateau , @cherrypieyourface, @sleepysaurusworld , @lucilferz , @spltbtch , @bobfloydluvsblackwomen , @johannakhalafalla , @augustwinesworld , @catsgomurp , @psychxbby, @hellkaiserinphoenix , @sleazymac-n-cheesy , @cstandsforchaos , @sunamatic , @lycoris-01 , @mua-for-now , @being-me-is-not-a-sin , @voids-universe , @caelestine-the-caelicatto , @gorouenjoyer

[niwaart]

Family without light.

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[#part1 #part2 #Part3 #Part4 #Part5]

Bruce and Y/N divorced after more than 15 years of marriage. The marriage was only for the sake of cooperation between the two companies, not for love. But after Y/N's father died and she took over the company, she decided to cancel the contract between them and divorce him. But... that's not what matters to Damian now... what matters to him is what happened after Y/N left the house. He thought that when she left, nothing would happen, he always ignored her or even fought with her or said harsh words in front of her and behind her. But... when did his wounds and injuries become so painful? After all, it's not the first time he got injured while fighting some villains. After all, he was trained by his mother Talia to be strong and feel as painless as possible. So he's surprised by the pain he feels from a mere scratch! His mother would be disappointed if she knew about this. But that's not the only change Damian has noticed. Y/N usually took him home from school and home to school and sometimes took him to the mall to buy food for his pets or to the Kent family's house. Now that she was gone, it was Alfred who drove him with Bruce and sometimes Jason. Tim barely had time for himself and Dick wasn't in Gotham. So when Jason was busy on a case and Alfred was busy, he would wait for one of them to come or he would walk home. As the days went by he was getting tired of it, the commute between home and school was too long... and he missed the places Y/N used to take him. She would take him after shopping to see the ocean or even to a fancy place to buy him nice clothes that fit his taste... she knew how to choose clothes... comfortable and cool at the same time. He missed when she would stop at the candy store or ice cream shop to buy his favorite flavor without telling Alfred. He missed when she would defend him in front of his father, she knew when he was lying or not. And when Bruce punishes him by stopping him from going on patrol, Y/N will bring the Robin costume that Bruce hid and then she will ask him to go in patrol, whether Bruce wants to or not. He missed her when she would stand waiting for him every day after school, start another fight in the car with her, and make it up to him with ice cream even though she didn't do anything wrong... He missed her... So he had a plan, a plan for her to come and take him from school to the market. A few weeks ago, Damian saw one of the students at his school calling their mother because they were sick. So Damian was going to call Y/N... and tell her he was sick and she would take him! Yeah, after all, it had been 3 months since the divorce, she must be missing him by now. Right?

"Yes Damian Wayne? What's wrong?" The headmistress said with a raised eyebrow upon seeing Damian hoping he wasn't here because of another fight.

Damian looked at her for a few moments nervous and a little excited. "I'm sick... I need to go home early today. Can I call someone to pick me up?" Damian said using his acting skills and speaking in a pale and sick voice. The principal was surprised and nodded "Of course you can, go ahead you can call your family." The principal gave him the phone and Damian took it after thanking her he went out and stood in the school corridor while writing down Y/N's number after writing down the number he was nervous and his finger hovered over the call button. after taking a deep breath he pressed the call button and put the phone to his ear... After waiting for an eternity (for Damian) a familiar voice answered. "Yes? Who's calling?" Damian forgot for a while why he was calling but he finally answered.

"I-It's me, Damian... I'm calling from school..." Damian said cursing himself for stuttering.

"Okay?... What do you want?"

"I... I'm sick... and Alfred is busy, I need you to pick me up from here." Damian answered lowering his voice, to show that he was sick. There was a long moment of silence… then Y/N answered, “Why should I?… I don’t have a connection to Bruce anymore, so you’re not my responsibility anymore.” Damian felt a lump in his throat… like he was choking, did she not miss him? Did she no longer love him? Or care about him? Was everything she did fake? No… it was real, he felt it! Damian answered in a voice close to tears while cursing himself internally for his weakness, “What?… But I… I… I’m sick…” Damian couldn’t hold back the tears that started to fall. “then call your mom… I’m busy, don’t call again.” Y/N hung up the phone before Damian could answer. Damian tried not to fall and cry, tried to wipe away his tears, tried to hide the trembling of his body, but he failed. After crying silently in the bathroom for a while, he washed his face and handed the phone back to the principal, looking down, trying to avoid her gaze. The day passed quietly, Alfred came late as always and got into the car silently as usual, but this time he was sadder. After several more months, Damian was about to forget about it and act like nothing happened. He was walking out of school and heading to his new seating area where he would sit while waiting for Alfred or Jason. But he noticed something… no, someone… It was Y/N! Damian's heart fluttered with joy and he wanted to run to her… She came for him!… That's what Damian thought as he prepared to run to her… But before his joy could be complete, he saw a twin from the same school he goes to. They hugging Y/N… Why? Damian looked at them in confusion… then he heard one of them say 'Auntie'… then Damian knew that Y/N didn't come for him… but for those two, Damian was hit with another wave of sadness, he was about to cry, he was close to crying but he didn't in front of people… so he silently walked to the spot where he sits to wait for someone to take him home while he watched Y/N from afar… she patted the two kids on the head… hugged them, opened the car door for them… Damian's breath was shaky, he was about to break down, why did she have to be nice to them, what about him? He also wanted her to look at him, smile at him, ask him how school was, and spoil him with sweets… he wanted someone to take care of him… he wanted her to take care of him like Talia didn't… he missed Y/N. He will do anything to back the days before she leave him... he promise to himself.

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[somnoir]

My father's secretary

Danny Fenton did not expect to be secretary material but after 7 years of being a hero and having Jazz as his elder sister, he was damn good at it. He needed a job, he knew that, and Wayne Enterprises was willing to hire a 21 year old taking online college classes for aerospace engineering.

And he was fucking thankful for that cause Mr. Wayne was pretty neat and bought him good food and coffee whenever he looked out of it. Half his family were already in Gotham with only his parents in Amity. They were finally reformed and now their research finally advocated for the rights of ghosts and spread awareness on their culture. Good for them.

Jazz and Dante were in Arkham working as a psychologist and guard. Elle was still in school, enrolled into Gotham Academy once Vlad insisted on paying her tuition. To be fair, he was paying for Danny's tuition too.

But back to his secretary duties. His boss was Bruce Wayne, yes, but he did often work with the man's son and the current CEO. Tim was nice and had the same caffeine addiction as him. (Jazz highly discouraged this friendship in case they both made a monstrosity of coffee and energy drinks.)

But Mr. Wayne was the best. He was rather clumsy and a bit airheaded but he was the best fucking boss he could ever ask for. The man's paternal instincts were on point and Danny was almost intimidated when the man started handing him extra cash whenever Danny came to the office looking more tired than usual. When that failed, Mr. Wayne resorted to giving him more material things.

Now, he doesn't want to take advantage of this ridiculously kind man with a lack of self preservation (God, was this what Jazz felt about him?). But Mr. Wayne had given him this amazing coffee maker and then proceeded to give Danny the best toaster ever. And Danny has always been known to resolutely be against Billionaires adopting him. But Mr. Wayne?

Danny had honed his back talking skills to perfection to talk down arrogant elites that kept demanding for his boss. He mastered his customer service voice and that condescending look he saw the receptionists give people like they were tantruming toddlers. Danny was ready to fight for that man (Vlad was choking somewhere as the Fentons worriedly look at him).

Jason has heard about Danny Fenton a couple of times. Tim, Dick, and Bruce had mentioned him a lot. Bruce's new secretary that looked like he'd woken up from a coma and was comparable to a grumpy cat on his best days. He's seen the guy a couple times, noticed how he was almost as tall as Jason. Honestly, he kinda looked like a twig (but then that was because of Danny's suit that he made sure didn't completely fit him).

Seriously. Danny was willing to fucking fight anyone and everyone for Bruce Wayne.

The guy was strange. Very strange. Especially when the pits seemed to either become frantic or calm whenever he was around. It depended on the situation really, but mostly the pits grew calmer around Fenton. Like a cat that finally saw its favorite person. It was so weird.

He was drawn to Fenton, sometimes finding himself walking towards the man before he snaps out of it.

It's on this day where Danny was by Bruce's side, a stylus and tablet in hand. He was furiously tapping away at his phone, cursing under his breath about bothersome and stuck up cialiteses.

"Jason!" Bruce happily greets, "Don't mind Danny for a bit. He's telling of some investors for trying to meddle with the company. Tim is too sleep deprived to handle it."

"Where is Tim?"

"Danny threatened to throw the company's coffee maker out the window if he doesn't take a nap." Bruce chuckles, glancing fondly at his fiesty secretary. "Danny?"

"Give me a minute, Mr. Wayne. Some people are trying to squeeze into your schedule when I specifically told them that they can't." Danny says, clearly irritated but looks at Bruce with an apologetic gaze. "No—Mr. Luthor, neither Mr. Drake nor Mr. Wayne are available on that day—"

And it dissolved into Danny telling of what Jason assumes was Lex Luthor to stop his attempts. In other words, corporate for Fuck off.

"He's good, isn't he?" Jason humms as he follows Bruce down the hall, glancing at the tired employees that looked utterly exhausted and horrifically motivated. "Looks like adoption bait."

"Unfortunately, Danny is a very much against Billionaires adopting him. His godfather is one and has attempted multiple times." Bruce sighs, feigning a sorrowful look as he sends Danny a small pout. "What did you do when he tried the fifth time again?"

"I blew up his car, Mr. Wayne." Danny nonchalantly says, "But that only made him want to adopt me more."

Jason blinks, baffled before he's laughing at the utter absurdity of the situation.

"That sounds similar to—"

Gunshots tore through the air as people immediately screamed. At the entrance of the building was the Joker in all his insanity, guns blazing. Jason froze, sucking in a deep breath as he took one step back. They weren't in costume, they weren't the Red Hood and Batman in that moment.

"Nightwing, Robin, and Spoiler are on their way." Oracle says through the comms but that doesn't comfort him in the slightest.

It's chaos in moments and people are ducking their heads to avoid the bullets. Jason and Bruce look right at each other, taking cover as bullets ruin the walls and furniture. But Bruce is dragged from his spot, pulled towards the Joker who laughs maniacally as he pressed a gun against Bruce's head.

"Mr. Wayne!" Many people yell as they all stared in horror as the Joker threatens Gotham's beloved prince.

Jason immediately remembers an explosion and a crowbar.

(Reminder, Danny Fenton was very much ready to go to war for Bruce Wayne).

A tablet and a stylus was suddenly shoved into his arms. Jason blinks, turning to Danny who tugs at his tie and rummages through the counter for something. The Joker sees this, clearly irritated.

"You! Eyes on me!" The Joker practically demands, hysterical that not everyone was paying attention.

Danny apparently doesn't give a damn before looking the Joker straight in the eye.

"Eyes in me." Danny repeats.

A second later something was thrown and a cutter was cutting through the Joker's eye.

Jason gaped at the seemingly harmless secretary, unable to comprehend that this man had just thrown a fucking cutter into the Joker's eye.

Bruce is set free.

Everyone is frozen in place.

Everyone watched as Bruce Wayne's tired and overworked secretary beats the shit out of the Joker, saying something about how he wasn't going to lose a good boss.

No one particularly knows what to do once Danny pulls out the cutter with the Jokers blood and... Fucking shit, was that his eyeball?!

Dick and Damian arrived at some point, also too shocked to do anything. When Danny was done and satisfied, with the Joker still alive, groaning and whimpering from the pain that Danny inflicted.

As if he hadn't almost killed the Joker, Danny turns to them with a tired smile.

"Mr. Wayne, I implore you not to die. I can't lose the best boss that I've had." He plainly says and takes the tablet and stylus back from Jason.

Jason thinks he might just marry this feral man.

Yeah.

Yeah, he was definitely going to marry Danny Fenton.

Part 2 | Masterpost

[thebuttsmcgee]

so. um. 👉👈

hi guysies.

Ig I should just say like. Hi

I haven't been posting here as much cause. Idk. Might be depression? I keep thinking its cause I've been so busy, which also wouldn't be not untrue, but these past, like, 3 weeks I think so far? I've had some free time but I haven't cause. I dunno, then again, I haven't been doing too much in general? I gues, besides very mandatory things, hell I've even been lacking in my regular skyrim hours of playing.

That, and as said, I get super melancholic when I remember just how sad and bittersweet it is that t0h is. Actually legit over. The show and experience, that is.

Oh all that and also becuz my headphones broke! Fuck! That's like number 2 in my bare necessities for when I post, do almost anything really! It's seriously been painful this past month going without headphones holy shit. Dude I've been scratching at the bit for some relief for headphones, I NEED music legitimately. Even right now, as I'm typing this on my phone, my music is on low levels.

But yerp. Its been. Rough. Really rough. I really do appreciate yall, everyone of yall. Have a sweet week everyone, ✌️!

[marsmaximoff]

🦑 hwang jun-ho; headcanons 〇△□

content warning: gn!reader. fluff. mentions of death, coma and jealousy. pet names. no season 2 spoilers. let me know if i missed anything.

word count: 941

author’s note: well, my man is back, and i had to write some headcanons for him. the OBSESSION that i had back in 2021 needs to be studied, omg. anyway, as always, constructive criticism is welcomed, english is my third language, so i apologize for any mistakes. in case i don’t post anything else this year, happy 2025 everybody!! enjoy! 🩷

divider by @k1ssyoursister

〇 pre-games

best. boyfriend. ever.

that’s it, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

🙃🙃🙃

his love languages are:

1) quality time

he may be a police detective, but he ALWAYS tries to make time for you 

and see you every day, and if he can’t, he’ll save some minutes to call you

loves to hear about your day

big on communication, that’s key on your relationship 

type of boyfriend that picks you up after work, or anything really

he just wants to see your cute face :3

takes you out on cool dates

to the park, to eat, to cute animal cafés

he’s okay with staying in too, just cuddling, talking, watching something….

and 2) acts of service 

will drive you anywhere you need

you get ‘good morning/night’ texts every single day you’re not together

makes you breakfast 

and has no problem with cooking for you

opens doors for you 

pulls out the chair at the restaurant ☝🏻

he’ll simply do anything you need

loves coming home to you, it doesn't matter how shitty or overwhelming his day was, you just put a smile on his face

his favorite thing to do with you is eating

it may sound boring, but he loves to see you taking care of yourself, well-fed and happy

takes you to meet his family

his mom loves you

even his brother likes you

he’s a tease and enjoys seeing you all flustered

i feel like he’d be the type to have many pics of you on his phone that he goes back to whenever he misses you

you’re probably his wallpaper, perhaps even on his wallet too 🤭

some pet names like: “honey”, “love”, “beautiful”, “cutie”

would never cheat

a guard dog

not super jealous -a bit tho- but won't hesitate to step up if someone acts stupid 

(picture that one scene in season 2 when that man mocked him and didn’t believe he was an actual police detective hehe)

shows you off 🤩

checks you out :p

his hand is on you in some way when you’re out

has good emotional intelligence

big spoon

reminds you to take your make up off before bed if you wear any -he may even do it himself if you're too tired

or to take meds

he is just really caring and supportive

doesn't like seeing you worried or anxious because of his job

absolutely hates to see you suffer

doesn’t mind that you may be struggling financially, it won’t change what he feels

will help you with whatever it is

just don’t hide it, he hates secrets and lies

i hate doing it, but there always has to be some 🚩 

he’s the first one that would do it (lying and hiding stuff) to ensure you’re okay and don’t get worried

on a particularly overwhelming day, he will raise his voice at you

can get really overprotective 

some days you may not hear from him, or at least not much

will sometimes struggle to open up about his issues or what’s upsetting him

△ during the games

after your sudden disappearance, worry and fear ate him up

while checking your house he found a weird card

and once he discovered the exact same one at his brother’s, he knew something was going on

heard gi-hun at the police station rambling about some weird symbols and immediately recognized the design

interrogated him about you, desperate to know about your whereabouts 

as soon as he successfully infiltrated the games, he began your search

almost had a heart attack when he spotted you

had to make the effort of his life to stay calm and not run to you

would somehow manage to get you two alone so he can get you out of there (i wrote about this)

almost gets caught

feels betrayed you didn’t tell him and quite angry you’d risk your own life like this

but mostly relieved you’re okay (and still alive)

watches you like a hawk from the distance, ensuring your safety

constantly around, you continuously sense his presence close by 

□ post-games (you died)

had to see your death and practically went numb

blurry vision, ringing in his ears, shortness of breath, sting in his throat

the worst thing tho, was finding out his brother had been behind everything

how could he have done this to you? you trusted him! 

feels completely disgusted

after his coma, he blames himself for everything

your name was his first word after waking up

dreams about you 

gets you a cenotaph given that your body will forever remain strayed

nevertheless, he still talks to you like you’re there

tells you about his recovery and his progress finding the island

you are his strongest motivation

he’s doing this for you, to provide the love of his life a much deserving peaceful rest

gets you new flowers every few days

he’ll never stop feeling guilty

〇 post-games (you survived)

has nightmares he failed and left you to meet your demise on those cursed games

always there when you have them, and so is his shoulder if you need to cry

reassurance king

hides the identity of his attacker from you

becomes even more overprotective

shared location on at all times

gets paranoid if you don’t text him all day

he swore to never miss a single detail of your possible struggles. not again

you can still tell he holds himself responsible for your time on that island

stays awake at night just watching you sleep safe and sound (will never say it tho)

babies you

bigger spoon

doesn’t let you go out on your own if it’s late, afraid that something may happen and those psychopaths will reach you again

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

Daily fish fact #6 444 205

Fish!

The fish like to have a little drink :) Sadly as they drink the water around them they also drink their own pee, and that is the curse that they will have to live with for the rest of their life

#fish #fishfact #fish facts #fishblr #biology #zoology

( 2 notes )

🪼 clovergonads follow

Tasseled wobbegong women >>>>>>>>>>>

🐸 i-eat-skin follow

bitch those are goosefish

( 27,196 notes )

🐚 seashell-on-the-seashore follow

Say what you want about fishblr updates, but I think this format for reblubs is a wonderful improvement over the previous one. One of the only times staff did good.

🐚 seashell-on-the-seashore

@featherstar53 If reblub chains got too long, new reblubs would start appearing as darker and darker until you couldnt see the text anymore. It mimicked how light disappears as you go deeper in the ocean but the sunken code this webbedsite runs on never set a cap for how dark it gets, so eventually you would have to copy ad paste the text on the reblubs onto somewhere to read them.

🐍 swamplamprey follow

It sounds fake but it's true! You can still find some older fishblr post screenshots with this effect:

This even went for full abyssal mode users! In their case, the text would slowly turn from white to dark blue, effectively making it impossible to read against the black background.

🦞 fastest-claw-in-the-west follow

I think it would be super funny if they brought this back but for individual posts. Like the reblubs stay the same colour but the posts themselves get gradually and gradually darker until you can't see them anymore lol. It would be disastrous but also funny and it might finally stop some of you frys from being so addicted to this webbedsite

#im all for a bit of chaos lol #treasure trove: talking tag

( 730 notes )

🌿 invertlike-behaviour follow

Okay for the record. My eyes are Red because I'm a COMMON ROACH! RUTILUS RUTILUS! It's not because I smoke seaweed!

🌿 invertlike-behaviour

Okay Yes I smoke seaweed all day. But the specific reason my eyes are red is Not That

( 104 notes )

🦈 spiritually-placoderm follow

🫧 surgeonsturgeon follow

OP you forgot brackish water and the option for inhabiting both

🦈 spiritually-placoderm

Shut your inferior ass mouth up

🫧 surgeonsturgeon

#(i couldnt find the actual gif i wanted to use but this weird tiger shark will have to do) #(not sure why his fins look like that)

( 1,020 notes )

☀️ slenderfish follow

"ocean sunfish have over 40 parasite species" factoid actualy just statistical error. average ocean sunfish is infected with only one or two parasites. Parasites Georg, the mola who suffers from every ailment known to fish and has over 1 000 000 000 parasite species infesting his flesh and organs, is an outlier adn should not have been counted

( 193,239 notes)

🪷 trout-about-you follow

Selfieeeee :3 (ignore the two sea lampreys attached to my flesh)

🪲 toebiter follow

how did you take the picture you aren't holding your phone

🪷 trout-about-you

The sea lamprey on the left took it for me

( 58 notes )

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

FISH USED TO MIGRATE THOUSANDS OF MILES TO BREED. WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!!!!

IN MY DAY PUSSFISH LIKE THIS WOULD GET EATEN ALIVE BY REAL RIVER MONSTERS FOR BREAKFAST.

🐟 darting-action follow

these are Siamese fighting fish bruh.... They don't have migration as part of their life cycle lmao

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

OF COURSE THE YOUTH CAN'T PUNCTUATE THEIR SENTENCES PROPERLY. I SHOULDN'T EXPECT SO MUCH FROM THE SOFT FRY THEY ARE. ALWAYS GETTING RILED UP!

🔲 skip-hopper-deactivated

Ignore this guy, @darting-action. He's well known for saying offensive nonsense like this, I think he's bait and trying to get someone to bite.

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

YOU MUST BE ONE OF THOSE INBRED DOMESTIC SCUM OR HATCHED YESTERDAY SINCE YOU ENTIRELY LACK THICK SCALES. I SPEAK THE TRUTH AND ONLY THE TRUTH. IF YOU GET TRIGGERED THEN THAT'S NATURAL SELECTION, SON. YOU SHOULD FIGHT ME IN REAL LIFE.

🔲 walrus-tits-in-my-mouth-deactivated

You really dont know a thing about natural selection, do you? Bettas have flashy fins because they have to seem threatening to possible competitors. They don't migrate so they aren't built for that. They're built for living in ponds and marshes, low oxygen environments, and by cod, they are built for fighting territorial battles! You shouldn't underestimate a fish literally called fighting fish. They're very tough and hardy fish and can even send larger fish fleeing!

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

SIAMESE FLAILING PUSSFISH HAVE LADY FINS BECAUSE THEY'RE WEAK AND SOFT AND HAD HUMANS DECIDE WHO THEY BREED WITH FOR THEM. THEIR QUOTE UNQUOTE "FIGHTING PROWESS" SURE DIDN'T SAVE THEM FROM BEING PRISSY LITTLE PRINCESS FISHIES FOR LITTLE KIDS DID IT? THE INDUBIDABLE FACT IS THAT THEY'RE MUSKIE FOOD.

🔲 iknowthecrabbypattysecretformula-deactivated

Wait a minute... I recongize that picture on the right! That's from @betta-than-this 's OnlyFins! How did you get that picutre hmmm? Salmonidae? How on Ocean did you gain access huh?

🐠 betta-than-this follow

"Indubidable" is a pretty specific word to use. This you @salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated?

🔲 iknowthecrabbypattysecretformula-deactivated

LMAOOOOOO GOTTEMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

🔲 aquarium-life-deactivated

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

🐟 darting-action

woag i never saw this entire chain before until it hit me on my dashboard. Why does this have so many notes

Thanks fishblr user walrus tits in my mouth for biology info i didn't know

🫖 burgle-the-turts follow

Woah woah woah we're just gonna ignore this guy using p*ssfish as an insult!!???? THE CATFISH SLUR????????? No one is going to bring this up!!!!!???????

🔲 tilapia11128-deactivated

does anyone in this thread smoke seaweed

🌊 herringageposts follow

date of origin: 28th of august, 2017

( 392,229 notes )

🟧 sponsored

Suffering all alone, handsome?

No need to anymore.

👄 pollywannacracker follow

Reblub with your favorite snack in the tags! I’ll go first: coral polyps! :}

🚬 shark-noir follow

@ninjalantern-999

#as for me #my fave is definitely my lower set of teeth when they shed #crumchy :D

( 295 notes )

🩸 must-lunge follow

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA STUPID HUMAN DROPPED ITS ELECTRONIC CAMERA IN THE LAKE!!!!!!!! NEVER GETTING THAT BACK BUB!!!!!! I'M TELLING ALL MY ISOPOD AND MUSSEL FRIENDS AND THEY'RE GONNA LIVE INSIDE IT!!!!!

🧑 official-human-posts follow

ofishal human post

#ofishal human post #this post contains humans

( 891 notes )

🦦 hellofromtheotterslide follow

Wait, how come this site is called fishblr and not something like oceanblr or aquablr? Wouldn't that be more inclusive?

👑 goldielocks follow

I believe the name "fishblr" pays homage to the meaning of the word where just about everything in the water was considered a fish. It's why we have words like "shellfish", "whalefish", "jellyfish", "starfish".

Personally aquablr would work really well, too. There's a sizeable amphibious userbase on here.

🦐 worldwideshrimp follow

You forgot whale shark! Those arent fish either but are called fish

👑 goldielocks

....Whale sharks are fish. They are sharks. It's in the name.

🦎 eye-of-newt follow

But I thought it was a whale named after sharks? WHALE shark! Why else would they put whale up first?

👑 goldielocks

A whale named after a shark would be called a shark whale. You can take one look at a whale shark and see that, with its gills and fish tail, it is a shark.

⚪️ number1-seacucumber-ass-enjoyer-77 follow

Wait, then what about baby whales? Are those whales named after babies?

👑 goldielocks

If you're talking about the actual whale babies, then yeah. If you mean the mormyrids, small aquatic animals that can sense electricity, then no, those are fish. Sometimes names are inaccurate to what the animal really is.

🌌 themanta1234 follow

If you think about it, fishblr is also inclusive to aquatic tetrapods since they are lobe-fins, and therefore fish :D It's a term that can include everyone on here, the perfect catchall!

🦑 abyssal-gigantism follow

Ewwww fuck that definition. If mammals hear about them being fish on some sort of """"technicality"""" then this webbedsite is gonna get flooded with those self-important idiots! "OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOOOOO LoOk At MeEeEeEeEEE i'M a MaMmAL!!11!!! I TAKE CARE of mah BAAABIEEEES!1111 I'm SUCH a good MAMAAA!!! All those OTHER STUPID HEARTLESS ANIMALS could NEVER do as I DO!!! I LOVE sweating into my BAABIEEEES' MOUTH1!1!1!111!!! I'm FLUFFY and AWSUM and ERRYBODDY LUUUVSSSSS MEE!!!!!!!!!!111!!!!!!! You should all LUV me TOO!!!!"

Is THAT how you want every fishblr post to look!!!!??????

🦛 drippohippo follow

😨

🪄 magicmanatee45 follow

DD:

🎼 humpbacked-musician-offishal follow

:'''((((

🐋 blainvilles-bitch follow

🕶️ egg-laying-mammal-of-action follow

:///////////

🐢 greenXD follow

i think jellyfish shouldn't be classified as fish because they're clearly living spaghetti

🌜 foolish-idol follow

Great fucking post everyone. Hit the air bubblers

( 60,376 notes )

🟩 ultrahyva-heihoi follow

Guys what the fuck kind of sponsors does fishblr have I just saw an ad for having parasites housed in me who are they advertising to 😭💀💀

#i swear the quality of this site keeps going down and down #if you see ads for parasites then report the shit out of em #fuck em my friend got early onset cataracts due to parasites

( 4 notes )

😃 doweopenandcloseourmouthtoday follow

Yes! :) :O :) :O :) :O :) :O

[koimethehorizon]

Deltarune: What's the Deal with Ramb?

(MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR CH 3 of DELTARUNE)

Genuinely, who hell is this guy?

I spend an unhealthy amount of time overthinking Deltarune, so I will likely have an opinion, theory, or answer on practically every aspect of the game. (whether you guys get to read any of those depends on my work ethic.)

But with Ramb, the best I can add is that this is a rare case of an underwritten Toby Fox character. Borderline just a plot-device for the Ch 3 weird route.

...and maybe this was done deliberately?

Throughout Ch 3, Ramb works as a very effective bait for the fans keeping their eyes out for this chapter's secret boss.

An odd speech pattern, a distinct design, an uncomfortable familiarity with Kris, low-key kind of a weirdo, and who could forget the FREEDOM drop.

Like, come on. By his 2nd line, I'm sure most players were suspicious of this guy. Moreso, when you enter that ominous S rank lobby into an equally ominous, weird route minigame.

This has to be the guy right?

Yes, I'm still salty.

And so you keep progressing, grinding for those S ranks, chatting with the definitely-the-Ch3-secret-boss, killing some digital friends along the way.

You find out he's actually a library power strip that Kris and Asriel stole to play games way back when. He's not just any NPC, he KNOWS Kris. And in the chapter's endgame, Ramb drops the bombshell that he SAW Kris open the fountain and figures before anyone that they must've done it to have another adventure with Susie.

I never trust anyone who smiles like this.

Alright lay it on me Ramb, give me the bullshit bullets and let me kick your ass!

And then you fight ERAM, get the Shadow Mantle, and.... he's gone. For the rest of the chapter.

WHERE'S MY CRYSTAL RAMB???

A Rabbick in the S rank hall will tell you that something happened to Ramb, but you don't even get the liberty of knowing the specifics.

So what the hell? Was Ramb genuinely just some weirdo?

It actually wasn't until a week later that I found out that Ramb gets more backstory in the route where you talk with him less. In other words, the non-S rank path that secret hunters would've reset the chapter away from. Nullifying any more info on this character for most dedicated first-timers.

Rather than Ramb vanishing, he's just a block of stone in his booth. Interact with it and a Pippins will give you this:

Don't bother Kris. Ramb's already turned into stone a bit ago... He was a plug, but because you played with him like any other toy, it made him feel special. Might have given him a little bit of an ego, in fact...

Always condescending to any plan, saying "what's best for Kris?" Couldn't get rid of him, so Tenna made him "work the stand"...

Us from the Card Castle fit in fine. Him? He never really belonged. His first day at this stand, he joked "how about the usual?" ... no one laughed! Mixing drinks alone for himself, he wasn't allowed to handle the points...

No one will shed a tear for him. Inside, he was probably stone already.

... And it tells us nothing.

I'm not talking the boy-that-was-sure-a-lot-of-words type of nothing. I mean a far more mundane, miserable type of nothing.

Some have theorized that Ramb was the intended secret boss that the Knight didn't get the shadow crystal to in time.

Some also theorize that Ramb was the one controlling ERAM to have a 1v1 with Kris.

And even fewer might expect Ramb to return in a future chapter so we'll DEFINITELY know what the deal with him is!

Maybe I'm stepping my foot a bit hard here, but I don't agree with any of these. I think the point of this backstory is much sadder than we expected.

Ramb didn't know shit.

Every time Ramb talked about freedom, he wasn't even referring to the same realization that Spamton and Jevil had. Ramb wasn't aware of a grand prophecy, nor did he receive a contact from Gaster/The Knight/Carol or whoever the hell is on that phone.

Ramb placed all stock on his value and identity on being Kris's favorite. Like a parasocial fan of a celebrity. And as a result, he ruined any chance at a social life.

Funny enough, Ramb got NOTHING about Kris right.

Kris HATED playing the Shadow Mantle game. Kris didn't open the fountain for fun; it was to carry out the Knight's plan, which I'm pretty sure Kris isn't all that fond of either.

So all we've got left is this strange, lonely NPC who didn't even need a shadow crystal to be trapped in an existential rot.

He gave up on his life all by himself.

Whenever I see another "who's the secret boss of Ch 3" argument pop up, it makes me pity Ramb in a way I never have with any other Toby Fox character.

Ramb...but only thematically.

Spamton and Jevil are considered anti-social, insane rejects within their Dark Worlds. Yet because they've got the charisma and are powerful opponents, they're loved by many players.

Ramb has none of these qualities.

Other than his accent and design, there isn't much of anything to delve further into with this guy. Ramb absolutely does have some fans, but he'll never reach the same heights as the other bosses because he doesn't stand out.

Ramb's only self-imposed purpose was to help guide Kris to whatever he thinks freedom is and once we get the Mantle, he's fulfilled it, and we're never to see him again.

It's as if even the narrative wants us to forget about him.

[irisintheafterglow]

you had a creep-sized problem, and you spot your solution sitting on a bench next to a pretzel cart. he doesn't have time to brush you off before you're hurriedly making your case.

"hi there," you begin with a shaking voice. "i'm so sorry, but would you mind walking me just a little bit that way?" you point past the arena's third-floor gift shop toward a hidden walkway designated for volunteers and staff only. his surgical mask covers half his face, but his abrasive nature is clear in his body language.

"ask someone else," he replies dryly and shifts away from you, but your sound of panic makes him pause, slightly irritated why you continued to bother him. "what?"

"i just need to get over there, past that," you elaborate, pointing in the same direction but lingering your hand over a figure stalking you in the distance. he clocks the guy pacing a few yards away to block your path, a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. the guy is holding his phone in a way that allows him to quickly point it and take a photo before the victim is none the wiser, and you'd caught him following you through the glass reflection of a soda fridge. with only a few minutes left until you had to start your shift, you needed a way to bypass him without drawing too much attention to yourself, so you roped in the nearest strong-looking guy to hopefully escort you to check-in. "please. i work the merch stands, i can get you a free shirt or something."

for a moment, you think he's going to refuse again and you're on the verge of apologizing before he mutters a barely perceptible "fine." he stands to his full height, and it makes your mouth go dry. he could be one of the olympians, all broad-shouldered and strong-calved. his figure was relatively lean, but you couldn't help but notice the way his muscles rippled under the tight fabric of his track jacket. without another word, he positions himself on your left side between you and the creep and begins walking.

"i like your jacket," you offer. if he was going out of his way to help you, the least you could do was make polite conversation. you hurry behind him and miss the way the crowd of game spectators stop in their tracks to look at your escort. "first time at the olympics?"

"been here before," he answers and you're surprised by the way annoyance has disappeared from his voice.

"oh, really? do you have a favorite event?"

"volleyball," the stranger replies without hesitation.

"that's mine too. all the teams are really talented this year, but i think japan is in it to win," you agree and he hums in what you can only consider as amusement. you don't notice the way the crowd pulls out their phones and whispers among each other, pointing at his mask-clad face and the two moles above his eyebrow barely covered by a perfect black curl.

"you think they'll get gold?"

"i'd be shocked if they didn't, what with the new guys they just signed and all. that spiker from the private school in tokyo is supposed to be super good." you accidentally bump his shoulder as a marker and poster are shoved in his direction, but think nothing more of it.

"mmm, the germaphobe with the mask," he deadpans. "people think he's a freak."

"i think the mask makes him cooler, the mystery of it all," you argue obliviously, and he glances at you and your endearingly clueless nature. your eyes sparkle. his cheeks feel warm under the fabric of his mask.

a few minutes later, he deposits you at the staff check-in and nods a curt goodbye.

"i'll be coming to collect that free shirt," he concludes with the barest hint of humor in his voice. at ease, you finally crack a smile and thank him profusely before he turns to leave. you've just finished signing your initials when you finally notice your supervisor staring at you. her eyes dart between you and the receding silhouette of your bodyguard down the hall; specifically, the words printed on the back of his jacket you were so busy admiring earlier.

men's volleyball team - sakusa kiyoomi.

bear with me i haven't written in a long time but i miss my silly little volleyball player grump of a bf so badly

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the basement

a/n: it's finally here, the highly anticipated instalment where you hoes finally get to discover the basement. you're welcome in advance hehe. enjoy ♡

(also, I just gotta point out once again that a lot of you guys who enjoy this au have been incredibly impatient, demanding and rude in my inbox. i don't think it's a big ask to treat me like an actual human being, but evidently some of you need to hear something that basic so that you can stop doing it every single day. in case you didn't know, that kind of behaviour has the opposite effect that you intend for it it have. i am not a printer that you can just smack to get to spew out papers again, if you smack me then it'll just hurt and make me not want to give you the gifts that you're demanding me for. if you enjoy this au and want more of it, then support it, be kind, reblog, add reactions and comments, don't fucking bully me)

summary: “yeah,” you heard Curtis chuckle briefly, “I think she might need a bit of a punishment in order to learn her lesson, so that she won’t repeat the same mistake again…”

warnings: innocent!reader x stepbro!steve rogers, frat!bucky barnes, ari levinson, marc spector, ransom drysdale, curtis everett, lloyd hansen, andy barber, thor odinson, scott lang, miguel o'hara, frank castle, billy russo, smut, dark content, dubcon/noncon, college au, drama with the gamma sigma zeta frat, party, alcohol consumption, polyamory, gangbang, corruption kink, kissing, sex dungeon, fem gloryhole, mask kink, bondage, sex toys, exhibitionism, voyeurism, crying, dacryphilia, dirty talk, size kink, gaping, manhandling, orgasm denial, edging, multiple orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, impact play, pain kink, spit kink, masturbation, oral, fingering, anal, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, just all of the creampies ever

word count: 9262

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

take her under your wing au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

masterlist | join my taglist 

“Alright,” Dr. Richards boomed over the rustle as all of the students around you began to pack up their things, “remember to read chapters eight to eleven for next week’s class if you haven’t already.”

And though everyone around began to filter out of the room, you stayed glued to your seat a moment longer, although it didn’t derive from an academic reason as you hoped your lowered gaze on your haphazard notes helped translate it into.

In fact, the reason why you stayed in the chair a moment longer, was the little distraction you’d somehow been swindled into this morning, currently still buzzing deep inside your cunt.

It was a hot pink little vibrator in the shape of an egg, controlled from an app you didn’t have on your own phone. Although your naïveté had assumed its size would have been a clue to its strength, those mistakes were swiftly squashed as you soon learned just how deep and rumbling its power was.

And though its vibrations could have made you climax over a dozen times since your stepbrother had slyly slipped it inside and made you wear it as you wobbled off to class, all during the lecture, each time you’d creep higher towards that peak, the pattern of the dizzying tremors would change and dull, rendering you to only edge and ruin your panties as you tried to concentrate on your professor’s words.

And as you stared down at Dr. Richards as he wiped the wide chalkboard behind him clean, the guy sitting adjacent to you cut through your trance as he rose from his seat and shrugged his backpack over his shoulder.

“He’s for sure gonna quiz us on those chapters, isn’t he?”

“Huh?” your stare snapped away from your teacher as you blinked over at Pietro, “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Lightly furrowing his brows, his eyes briefly flickered down to your heaving chest, “uh, you good?”

“Y-yeah, why?” you sucked in a sharp breath before you carefully got up from your seat, “I’m totally cool,” you tried not to react as the movement caused your pussy to clench even tighter around the toy as its angle shifted as well.  

Pietro’s gaze then shifted as two of his friends popped up in the doorway, prompting you to glance back over your shoulder to spot them as well as he then offered them a short wave.

“Me and my friends were just about to go grab something from the coffee cart, have my sister hook us up,” he shared as he began to ascend the stairs that split apart the rows of seats, “you wanna tag along? If Wanda doesn’t wanna break barista policy for the hot girl in my advanced neurobiology class, then I’ll happily pay for yours.”

“Wait, Wanda’s your sister? Wanda Maximoff?” you began to follow his stride.

“Twin, actually,” he tilted his head before looking up from the steps to glance back at you, “so, you wanna join? I mean, it looks like you could use the pick me up.”

Sucking in a breath, you then uttered timidly, “oh, I’d love to, but I can’t. I’m supposed to be meeting up with someone,” you said as the buzzing remained so low that it was only a flutter against your throbbing walls.

“Oh, okay, that’s cool,” Pietro swallowed the gentle rejection. And as the pair of you neared the bottom of the stairs, his friends abandoned their waiting spot, “well, uh… are you planning on going to that Delta Phi party this weekend since you already know my sister?”

“I don’t know, I actually hadn’t thought about it,” you shrugged, recalling how your roommate had gushed about the theme at breakfast the other morning.

As his friends met you both halfway, one of them couldn’t resist but to cut in, “oh, you should totally go, their themed parties are always epic.”

Glancing between everyone, Pietro then gestured to the other guys and said, “Y/n, this is Eddie and Wade. We’re in the same frat together.”

“Hi,” you offered them both a slight wave.  

Rounding back to the subject at hand, Eddie piggybacked off of what Wade had said and then suggested, “you should come with us.”

“What?”

“To the party,” he clarified, “what do you say?”

“Oh, well…” you thought about it a moment, although the way that your poor pussy throbbed made it incredibly difficult to get the right sense, so instead you heard yourself utter, “alright.”

“Alright?” Pietro’s brows floated up as he echoed your answer.

“Sure,” you breathed, shifting your weight gently as you stayed on the last of the steps, “it’s an eighties theme, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think like costumes or anything are mandatory,” Wade cocked his head, “we’ll just have old bangers stuck in our heads for the rest of the month.”

“Sounds like fun,” you offered them a small smile before Pietro once again piped up.

“Where do you live? We’ll come pick you up.”

“Oh, uhm,” you blinked for a second before answering, “in Manning Hall.”

“Okay, cool,” he smirked as they all began to back up and slip out of the classroom, “Saturday night, nine o’clock.”

“It’s a date–,” you exhaled, before a wince scrunched up your features, “or well, I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant like, you know, it’s a date, not that it’s a date, date…”

But instead of furthering your mortified spiralling, they all just chuckled as your classmate murmured, “see you Saturday, Y/n,” before they disappeared down the hall.

A long sigh then flowed from your lungs before you finally ascended from the very last step, although, when your feet settled on the floor, the little vibrator inside of you suddenly hit you with a wave, increasing its intensity for only a second before it then settled back down. A gasp swiftly parted your lips as you passed the teacher’s desk, and your hand shot out to clutch the edge of it as a stutter shook your frame.

Still packing up his own things before he too could journey forth, Reed glanced up at you and asked, “you okay?” although the knowing smirk that twitched at the corners of his lips went unnoticed by your dizzy vision.

“Oh, mhm,” you tried to control your heaving chest, “I’m fine, sir,” you briefly glanced up at him, although immediately glanced away as it didn’t help matters, your tunnel vision only fixating on the details of him that made it impossible for you to overcome the overwhelming teasing, “that was a–, uhm, fun class today.”

“Thanks,” he bit down on his slight smile. However, before you could part your lips and utter anything further, a different voice suddenly emanated off to the side.

“Oh no, what was it about this week? Please, I don’t have the energy to try and listen to you babble about it for the rest of the week.”

Twisting your neck, you spotted the figure that then appeared, leaning garishly against the doorway, “Ransom? What are you doing here?”

“Well, your dear stepbrother was busy, so he sent me instead,” he began to waltz into the classroom, “he sends his regards though,” and held up his phone, wiggling it playfully and letting you spot the app that was open on the small screen. Apparently, Steve wasn’t the only one who had access to the controls of the device ever maddening inside of your cunt, prompting your frame to freeze up at the mortifying discovery. Redirecting his glance to Dr. Richards as he neared, Ransom then murmured, “what’s up, teach?”

“Ransom,” the older man greeted the frat guy with a surprising air of informality, “hey, do you boys need me to be there for the next meeting?”

“Uhm, nah, I don’t think we’ll discuss anything major this week. We’ll just send you the highlights in the group chat or something,” he murmured before spotting the furrow to your brow and then clarifying further, “oh, did you not know? Reed is Kappa Alpha Nu’s faculty advisor.”

“No,” you faintly shook your head before the silent stares that the both of them cast upon you caused your cheeks to heat up. The pause that hung in the air almost made it seem as if there was more to that story, although your foggy brain couldn’t pick up on any of it at the moment, as you were merely focussing on not letting the tormenting toy make a complete fool out of you in front of your professor.

“Well, I should get going,” Reed then broke the heated silence, “see you next week, Y/n,” he caught your eye as he picked up his bag and slinked it over his broad shoulder, “remember to do the reading.”

“Will do, professor!” you squeaked as he turned to exit the classroom.

Though as you and Ransom slipped out of the lecture hall as well, your feet didn’t manage to carry you far down the hallway before the frat guy yanked you into the nearest bathroom that you passed.

He didn’t even glance around to see if the lavatory indeed was vacant before he shoved you into one of the stalls, his fingers not finding the lock before he pushed you up against the thin wall.

“So,” he purred as your wide eyes blinked back at him, reeling to catch up to the sudden shift in locations, “have you cum?”

“N-no,” your head swiftly shook, “I haven’t been able to,” you revealed, as each time you’d gotten close, the vibrating pulses the toy offered your poor cunt would switch up or slow down, ruining the high for you and keeping you on the mind-breaking edge.

“Well, good,” he smirked, “that was the point,” his words drew out, holding your gaze captive, before he then uttered casually, “so, I’ll just be taking this back then,” and boldly shoved his hand up under your skirt. He wasted no time before stuffing his hand into your panties, a chuckle slipping from him at just how ridiculously drenched they were.  

“Ransom!” you gasped loudly as he ignored the hot pink tail of the toy that poked out of your pussy and instead sank two thick fingers right in beside it, an obscene squelch echoing from your creamy cunt as he plugged your drooling hole up even further.

“What? Just trying to get it out,” he teased, knowing fully well what his true intentions were, purposefully keeping the little vibrator inside and making it so much more unbearable for you to endure, “quit squirming,” he grinned as your whole body quivered at his greedy touch, “oh, your little pussy's really holding on tight to that thing. Just doesn’t wanna let go,” he swirled his long fingers around the little toy, before they settled just behind it, swiftly scooping up against it to force the vibrator repeatedly against your g-spot, “oh, I know,” he then abruptly fished his phone out of his pocket, “maybe this will help,” he smirked as he opened up an app before you felt the humming pick up again.

The vibrations were strong and deep as he swept his touch against the toy, rocking it against that little spot inside of you that caused your pussy to sing for him in sloppy sloshing sounds at each of his merciless motions.

“A-ahh!” you cried out as you finally came undone. Squirting all over the place as if his touch had switched on some lewd fountain inside of you, your sensitive cunt clenched down around the toy so fiercely that it popped right out and landed in Ransom’s palm, wiggling and buzzing in his hold as his fingers too were forced out. Shakily, your frame slid down the wall of the stall till you were sitting in the puddle of your juices on the cold tile floor, your dazed frame still quivering violently from the intense high as it continued to rock you, your leaky hole still weakly gushing as the frat boy’s laughter floated above you.

“…Adler, Fowler, Jensen, Barton and then Wilson and Brock, you’ve already met,” Pietro introduced his fellow members of the Gamma Sigma Zeta fraternity, before a burly blonde appeared behind the group and interjected.

“What, are you just gonna skip the best one?” he grinned as he sauntered up towards you, splitting the small crowd that surrounded you in half.

“Y/n, this is Johnny Storm,” Pietro uttered beside you as the man neared.

“President of Gamma Sigma Zeta,” Johnny added as he caught your hand in a brief shake.

“Nice to meet you,” a smile flashed upon your features in an attempt at squashing the nerves that churned your stomach, the loud throwback music that shook the entire out house certainly didn’t help matters either, “all of you,” raising your hand, you offered the group a tiny wave as your gaze drifted over all of them.

“Likewise,” Johnny smirked before his eyes drifted down to your empty hands, “hey, how long have you been here? How come she doesn’t have a drink yet?”

“Oh, I’m okay, really–” you tried to insist, before a beer was suddenly cracked open and shoved in your hand, “oh, thanks…”

As you timidly enveloped your fingers around the can, Nick chimed in as the frat’s president settled in at his side, “so, you’re pre-med like Maximoff?”

“Yeah,” your head tilted in a tiny nod, “we have Dr. Richards’ class together.”

“Oh, my condolences,” Johnny suddenly winced.

“What?”

“He’s married to my sister,” he explained his pre-set grudge against the charming professor.

“Oh,” you breathed, your gaze promptly averting, “I didn’t know he was married.”

“Really? Most of the women he sleeps with usually does,” he uttered casually, brashly indicating that you were the older man’s type, even if he wasn’t outright accusing you of actually having an affair with him yet, “anyhow, we were about to go gather a few folks in the other room for a game of something. You wanna join?”

Glancing around the group, you then squeaked, “uh, sure.”

It ended up being a twist on truth or dare, although if you weren’t brave enough to complete the challenge, you’d have to drink.

Sitting in a haphazard circle, a few of the Delta Phi girls had also joined in, as well as the sorority’s resident cat, Gigi, who had wandered around from person to person, though when the fluffy creature had stopped and settled by your feet and you bent forward in your seat on the couch to pet her, your attention faded away from the game and rendered you to nearly miss what Carol murmured after she’d completed her dare.

“Okay…” the blonde cast her glance around the players till her eyes landed on the next victim, “Y/n, truth or dare.”

“Oh no…” your head shot back up at the sound of your own name for the first time so far in the game being picked, “truth, but please don’t be mean…” you blinked up at her as a frown twitched at your lips, “please?”  

“Alright, fine,” Carol gave in to your puppy eyes, “let’s see… what's the worst thing you've ever said to someone?”

Your eyes promptly grew wide, “oh god…” an exhale seeped from your lungs, “that’s you being gentle?”

“Or you can drink, your choice,” she shrugged as she settled further back in her seat.

“She’s like a Disney princess,” Jake grinned off to the side of you, “she’s probably never even sworn before.”

“Okay, ha-ha, hilarious,” you let out a dry laugh as everyone in the circle snickered a moment, “for the record, yes, I have, I say bad words all of time if you must know,” you noted a bit too defensively before averting your gaze to the cat at your feet to ponder the question, “alright… oh… it’s hard to remember…” you screwed your eyes shut a moment before you shared, “I mean, I did say some pretty awful things to my mom back when she first told me she was getting married again,” the rest of them then bathed you in stares that nudged you to swiftly elaborate, “it was back when I started high school, which was already not fun. It was a private school, I was a scholarship student, so let’s just say that the preppy rich kids who already went there didn’t exactly welcome me with open arms…” you sighed heavily at the memory, “and then when she told me that she’d gotten engaged to the dad of one of the seniors, I kinda flipped at the thought of suddenly living in the same house as the most popular guy in school… but, I luckily she forgave me, and I learned to deal with the change. I mean, at least it happened towards the end of the school year, so I really only lived with him for a couple of months before he then went off to college.”

For the rest of the game, you couldn’t help but absentmindedly sip at your drink, especially each time someone would be challenged with a dare or a question so raunchy that your only shield to hide your obvious innocence was the beer can in your grasp.

So, towards the end, when it eventually became your turn again and your drink was nearly empty, you only giggled when they dared you to kiss each and every other player, the alcohol in your system letting them sway you with ease.

Although, when you were halfway through the nerve-wrecking challenge, timidly pressing your lips to each and everyone’s cheeks, when you reached Johnny, he cockily twisted his head just in time for your mouth instead to crash against his own.

But as swiftly as the unexpected kiss occurred, that’s how quickly you were suddenly ripped off of the frat president’s lap, as little did you know, your stepbrother had appeared in the doorway behind you only moments before.

“Rogers, what the hell?” Johnny promptly hissed as you slipped out of his grasp.

But instead, Steve ignored him and directed his glare down at you, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” his bruising grip dented your upper arm.

“Hey, let go of her,” Johnny shot up from his seat and reached out for you.

“Don’t! Get back!” Steve roared in a tone you’d never even imagined him capable of, “if you ever so much as look at my stepsister again, I swear I’ll fucking kill you.”

Stumbling back just a tad, Johnny echoed, “step–…” before his glare shifted to lock with your wide eyes, “you seriously weren’t gonna tell us that this was the golden boy you were talking about? Seriously? Rogers is your stepbrother?”

“I–…” your gaze darted between everyone around you as you ceased to connect the dots and figure out why everyone had suddenly exploded in poisonous rage, “what is going on?”

“You’re going home, that’s what’s going on,” Steve grumbled firmly. His glare didn’t waver as he then raised his voice and called upon one of his friends who shadowed behind him, “Thor?”

“Got it,” Thor murmured before he then stepped up and obeyed Steve’s unspoken command, abruptly picking you up and tossing you over his broad shoulder.

And though you tried to fight it, tried to argue that they were being ridiculous, both he and your stepbrother still managed to carry you out of the sorority party without as much as breaking a sweat. And as they hauled you past the rest of the frat, the remainder of Kappa Alpha Nu stood their ground, glaring down their rivals and making you fear that a fight was on the horizon the very moment that the front door slammed shut behind you.

You were still riddled with questions by the time that you arrived back at your dorm room, though the alcohol that still buzzed in your system also pushed you to become mildly pissed off at their mysterious interjection.

Though you wanted to argue, they instead helped you get ready for bed, shoving a toothbrush into your hand before you had the chance to complain. And as you slowly scrubbed your teeth and you watched as a few whispers slipped between the pair, one of them even fishing out his phone to send off a few texts, the flicker of anger that had bubbled up inside of you, instead fizzled down and morphed into a tsunami of bewildering fear.  

So, when you’d finished brushing your teeth, your voice then came out wobbly with the threat of tears, “…are you guys mad at me? Did I do something wrong?”

But to your horror, neither of them answered you as a simple sigh only slipped from Steve as he picked out a nightgown from your dresser and crossed the room towards where your tipsy form stood, “arms up,” he uttered, and without even thinking about it, your intoxicated limbs floated up into the air. The both of their hands then slipped off your clothing before tugging the negligée over your head, “there, much better,” your stepbrother smoothed down the pastel blue fabric, having of course chosen the shortest you owned, rendering it to barely cover the curve of your bottom.

As Thor momentarily slipped into the bathroom to grab you a glass of water, Steve pulled back the covers of your twin-sized bed for you to crawl under.

“Sleep tight, sweetie,” their weight dented the edge of your mattress for but a moment before they once again rose up, although Steve briefly reached out to pinch the long ear of the white stuffed animal that you had swiftly clutched to your chest, his fingertips sweeping up to tug at one of the light pink ribbons that were tied around each of the soft bunny’s ears.  

“Wait!” you gasped as they dissipated from your side, your arms tightening in the hug around Bun Bun’s little teddy bear form, “I–… I can’t fall asleep after all of that…”

Pausing a moment right before they reached the door, “…alright,” Steve then let out a sigh, “what do you usually do when you can’t fall asleep?”

“Well, sometimes I read, or maybe watch something on my phone, but not anything too exciting, you know? Just something that I can kinda half follow along with till I get sleepy enough to close my eyes.”

A devilish idea then popped into your stepbrother’s lewd mind and thawed some of the tension in his broad shoulders, the thought conveniently also coinciding with the sinister plans that were already brewing among his fellow frat boys, and perhaps, his idea could even warm you up for the punishment they’d already begun planning.

“Okay…” he uttered slowly as the corners of his lips twitched, “I think I know something you could watch…”

“Really?” you gratefully gasped, “because that’s always the most difficult part, landing on the right video.”

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” he then grabbed your phone and pulled up a film, though paused it right at the beginning, while the little screen was still completely black, rendering the content a complete mystery to you before you pressed play, “alright, there you go,” he handed it back to you before he then bent down over your horizontal frame and planted a brief kiss to your forehead, “goodnight.”

“Night, night,” you flashed the both of them a smile.

“Night,” Thor reached down to offer your ankle beneath the duvet a squeeze, before they finally exited your room.

And when you then were all alone, you wiggled into a more comfortable position on your pillow, repositioned the stuffed animal in your grasp, before you tilted the phone screen towards you and started the video.

Though, as soon as you pressed play, your jaw promptly hit the floor at the lewd images that instantly flashed across the tiny screen.

You had never in your entire life dared to watch pornography. But even so, the genre that then played out before your own innocent eyes did not embody any of the stereotypical plots that even pure little you had heard inappropriate jokes about.

It started out by shoving a scandal-clad young woman, pretending to be a teen at home all alone in some ridiculously huge house. But then, as she skipped around, flashing the camera teasing angles of her body beneath the excuse she wore as a dress, a hulking man, disguised by the black fabric of a mask, suddenly appeared behind her, clearly on a mission to rob the house, though paused in the doorway when he spotted her.

Though as the masked man tossed the teen around and grunted that he’d much rather steal her virginity than any of her parents’ money, the urge to shut off the video prickled at your every nerve, but you just couldn’t seem to stop staring.

Hugging your teddy bear tight, you soon grew so frustratingly fuzzy that you tried desperately to rid yourself of the sensation, though still couldn’t push yourself over the edge that remained such a mystery whenever you were on your own. The only thing you managed to accomplish as you rubbed yourself raw, was a completely soaked pair of panties before you eventually passed out.

When you suddenly stirred from your slumber, it took you a moment to notice the fact that you weren’t in your warm and safe bed anymore. But in a stark contrast, you now found yourself in the arms of an individual that made you fear you’d been transported into the porn that still buzzed on your phone when you drifted off to sleep.

A gust of the night air rustled in the nightgown you still wore, as well as the cotton scarf that was tied over your mouth. Digging your fingers into Bun Bun that thankfully still remained in your embrace, you cast your wide eyes around to not only the masked man who carried you, but also the small crowd marching all around you, each of their identities obscured by matching black ski masks.

But as panic swiftly arose within you, it suddenly began to fade once again as the man who held you murmured, “well, look who’s finally awake. You were really passed out cold,” you gasped through the gag as you recognised Bucky’s voice, your glace too flickering down to catch sight of some of the many tattoos that decorated his skin, curling out from under the tight black t-shirt he wore, and wrapping down each of his burly arms.

And as you began to recognise the rest of the masked members of Kappa Alpha Nu, it still felt obscene enough to proficiently befuddle you and make you reach so far as to ponder if it actually was just a dream.

You realised what street you were on right before the fraternity came into view, though as they brought you inside the familiar house, you only sank further into your hazy puzzlement as they took you back into the kitchen, towards the pantry, and popped open the door to the basement.

Their past warnings echoed in your mind, cautioning you not to ever wander down there. And one step at a time, as they carried you down the dim and creaking stairway, your stomach began to do flips and ache at the reality that you were now breaking one of their few rules.

At the bottom of the stairs, there was a little hallway with a door at the end of it. The back of it had a little whiteboard strung up, with a schedule scribbled upon it, and at the bottom, a little sign dangled from a string. The side that initially faced you read ‘private session, fuck off’. However, as the frat guy who led the troupe opened the door, the sign got jostled enough for you to catch sight of the other side and the big bold letters that read ‘welcome voyeurs’.

Entering the basement, it was almost as dim as the staircase outside, with the exception of a few dim red bulbs that flickered about the room.

The space was dark and dingy, with decades of graffiti littering the brick walls over the various fliers and posters that wallpapered patches of the periphery. Some mismatched chairs surrounded the beat-up leather couch that stood in the centre of the room. Off to the side, you spotted a long bar, splintery enough to fall apart at any moment. Your naïve eyes flickered from the pool table in the corner, to the chains and ropes that ominously dangled from the pipes on the ceiling, to even the shelves along many of the walls, littered with all sorts of phallic-looking items that made you suck in a breath. And lastly, your stare landed upon the load-bearing wall that stood in the middle of the room, though it didn’t meet the perimeter of the basement as it only stretched out about two meters, and with a strange-looking hole adorning the centre of it.

Little did you know about the nefarious activities and traditions that played out down in this very room, from the playground it was on a day-to-day basis, to the ceremony they held each time a new president of the frat had to earn his crown.

When Bucky finally set you down on your feet, the rest of them crowded around you before one of them reached out to tear the silencing scarf from your mouth.

Hugging the plush lump of Bun Bun’s body tight, you swiftly parted your lips, “what the–”

“Nuh-uh,” you then heard Ari cut you off, your eyes promptly flickering to find his masked visage, “you don’t get to ask the questions here, baby.”

Cocking his head, your stepbrother then spoke in a stern tone, “what the hell did you think you were doing tonight?”

“W-what?” you cast a glance around the lot of them, “nothing, I–, guys,” a small whimper tumbled from your lips as you shifted your weight, “can’t you take the masks off? Please?”

“Now, where’s the fun in that?” Billy chuckled from behind you, making you whip your head around.

“But,” you sucked in a breath, “you’re kind of scaring me…”

“Good,” Steve uttered, “then it’s working,” before he sank down upon the couch behind him and caught your waist, “come here,” he yanked you with him and pulled you over his knee. And as your stomach pressed down against the tops of his thick thighs, and your nightgown rid up, exposing your underwear to every frat guy that surrounded you, Steve let his touch coast up the back of your leg, making you shiver in his lap as he then murmured, “so, we’re gonna try this one more time,” his hand slowly travelled further and further north, “what the fuck were you thinking tonight?”

“What?” your neck twisted for your glare to find the glint of your stepbrother’s eyes behind his mask, missing entirely as one of the others handed something to him, “I just went to a party–, ah!” sharp pain then suddenly sparked on your bottom, though it took you a moment, panting after your yelp, to realise that it hadn’t been Steve’s palm that he’d sent down upon your ass, but instead it was a paddle that one of the others had fetched for him.

“Oh, but that’s not all you did,” Bucky muttered as he then buried his fingers in your hair, clutching your locks tight just as you began to squirm, keeping you trapped in your stepbrother’s lap, even if you’d attempt an escape.

“Why would you go with them?” Steve hissed, “why?”

Flesh still stinging, you blinked up at him and breathed, “what are you talking about, I thought that was exactly what you told me to do, to finally relax and be social?”

“Not with them,” Lloyd’s voice found your ears, “you could have picked literally anyone but them,” he stated before your stepbrother swatted you with the paddle. Spanking you a few times in swift succession, one of the blows landed directly over the heat of your covered core.

“Okay, okay!” you yelped as the smacks caused tears to sting the corners of your eyes, “I’m sorry that I talked to some guys that you aren’t fans of, I’ll try to stay clear of them in the future!”

“Oh, you did way more than talk, babe,” Ari kneeled down before you to get on your level, “and they aren’t just some guys that we aren’t fans of,” he corrected you, “they’re from Gamma Sigma Zeta. The fucking scum of this campus,” he spat, making you recoil atop Steve’s lap, “do you really not know–, does she not know her Highridge history?”

“Apparently fucking not,” Frank crossed his arms before your whole body jumped as Steve once again spanked you.

“Our frats don’t mix,” Ari began to explain, “it’s from way back,” his hand drifted up to gesture alongside his words, “back in the sixties, they budded heads, god knows about what,” he briefly sighed, “but let’s just say, the rivalry has only grown over the decades.”

“So, unless you wanna be on our bad side, you stay away from them. Don’t fucking go near them, any of them, ever again,” you heard Steve bark, “you got it?”

Tightening his grip in your hair and making you wince at the sting, Bucky then tugged your head further back for your eyes to find his, “say that you fucking understand!”

“Y-yes!” you cried out, “I understand!”

And though you obeyed their every word to get back into their good graces, you once again felt Steve swat your ass before he hissed, “did you fuck any of them?”

“What?” you gasped, “no! I didn’t–”

“Oh, so you think we should believe that you only let them stick their filthy tongues down your throat like the little fucking slut you are?” Thor nearly scoffed from the sidelines.

“It was just a game,” you desperately explained, “I mean, it was only one of them that I didn’t kiss on the cheek, but that wasn’t my fault, he was the one that turned his head just at the right time to–”

“Oh, but it is your fault,” Bucky uttered as his stare held your own captive, “it’s all your fault, honey,” a gentle shake found his head, “this is the bed you made, so you better fucking lie in it.”

“I won’t do it again, I swear!” you swiftly tried, a tear rolling down your cheek as they all continued to bruise your bottom, a few of them reaching out to torment you in between the swats of the paddle, “I’ll stay away from them!”

“Hm,” Steve’s voice rumbled in your ear as a slight smirk stretched across his lips, “that doesn’t sound very convincing.”

“Yeah,” you heard Curtis chuckle briefly, “I think she might need a bit of a punishment in order to learn her lesson, so that she won’t repeat the same mistake again…”

“P-punishment?” you frantically attempted to glance around the lot of them, “b-but, then what was this?”

Your cunt clenched around nothing as Steve then sat down the paddle and let his hand ghost over your aching skin, “oh, this was just a bit of foreplay, sweetie,” he smirked at the way your already soaked panties had gotten a fresh wave of arousal to drench them further.

“Yeah, we’re gonna play a little game,” Scott informed you, “you like games, right?”

“S-sure,” you shivered as your stepbrother let his fingertip trace the hem of your underwear, scarcely touching you at all, only tickling the edges of your embarrassment.

“It’s a guessing game,” Miguel uttered, “wouldn’t that be fun?”

“L-like twenty questions or something?” you stammered as you felt Bucky let go of your hair.

“No, baby,” Steve chuckled in your ear, “it’s a little different than that…” he muttered before he then seized your waist and plucked you up, snatching you with him as he suddenly rose.

And as the rest of them manhandled your wiggling frame across the length of the basement, you squeaked, “w-what are you doing?” as they hauled you around the loadbearing wall and plopped you down on a slap that stood up against the back of it, level to the hole that had been manufactured in it. The opening’s edges were almost padded with a pliable plastic to soften up the rough texture of the brick wall. Slipping your bottom half through the hole, like they were threading a needle, you then felt someone on the other side tie up your legs, spreading them wide and strapping them into a pair of waiting leather restraints. Belt-like straps were swiftly fastened around your torso, before your wrists were then bound together as well, although one of them did readjust your little bunny to be snug against your body, beneath your bound hands, “what is going on?” you whined as they then all vanished from your side of the partition, leaving you shivering in the dark as the crisp air caressed your bottom as it poked out the other side, nearly hanging off of the edge and granting them all a perfect view of your ruined panties.

“Now,” you heard Steve’s voice from on the other side of the wall, “the rules are pretty simple,” he uttered as his footsteps dragged him closer to your exposed parts, “we’re gonna fuck you, one by one, and then you’ll have to identify us all. Try and guess who it is that’s pounding that sweet little pussy of yours,” you sucked in a breath as his touch then ghosted along your covered core, tickling the soaked cotton, “and if you get it right, well then woopie, you get to cum,” his fingers then caught the fabric in a pinch before he went on, “but if you don’t, if you get it wrong, well then you won’t be allowed to cum,” he stated just before he ripped a huge hole in your sodden underwear, revealing your pussy completely as tattered cotton framed it.

“Oh, and if you even so much as try to sneak an orgasm past any of us, we’ll know,” Bucky promptly added, “you’re awful at keeping them lowkey, you just can’t control that yet,” he murmured as you felt your stepbrother’s touch fade as he took a step back, “but if you try, then you’ll wish you hadn’t, you understand?”

“Y-yes,” you breathed, though still only took the warning with a grain of salt out of pure hope that this was only a twisted game and nothing more.

“Good,” he exhaled, making you sink your teeth into your bottom lip.

Miguel was the first one to step up, not wasting any time at all to tease you before he slammed his thick cock inside of you, instantly balls deep.  

Though you could hear everyone’s different voices and groans through the partition, you still had no way of knowing who was stretching out your pussy that was on display like a toy. Knowing them all, you assumed right when you pondered if their stray moans, all of them melting into one big storm, were a result of their desperation getting the better of them as they all began to stroke themselves, impatiently waiting their turn.

“So,” you eventually heard Andy utter, “any guesses?”

“U-uh…” you panted, squeezing your eyes shut as you struggled to recall any of their names with the way that Miguel filled you up, “S-Scott?”

A loud laugh then promptly billowed out of Scott, “you wish, baby!”

“Guess you’ll just have to hold out a little longer, eh?” Thor snickered as you felt your buzzing clit get pinched, making the battle they urged you to fight that much tougher.

And as you neared the edge, your lack of faith in the threats they’d loomed over you then triumphed as you chalked them up to be nothing more than oddly dark jests and let yourself tumble over the edge.

But as you didn’t attempt to diminish any of your moans in the slightest, Marc then scoffed, “oh, did you seriously just cum?” as you still trembled before them all, “you think this is a joke?”

“Holy fuck, no yeah, she definitely did,” Miguel groaned loudly, “feels like her pussy’s trying to choke me,” he only pumped his length inside of you a couple of times more before he promptly pumped your cunt full as you simply squeezed down too good around his dick for him to resist.

“Bad fucking girl,” Frank chuckled as you felt Miguel take a step back, his twitching cock slipping from your haven.

“Greedy little whore,” Ari smacked your inner thigh lightly, making some of Miguel’s load dribble out of you as your cunt clenched at the blow, “just have to make it all about yourself, don’t you?”

“Well, gentlemen, I think a little consequence is in order,” you then heard your stepbrother utter, “any ideas?”

“I’ve got one,” Ransom smirked, “we get to pick out what she wears for the rest of the month.”

“The whole month?” you gasped as their severity finally began to sink in.

“Oh, quit your whining,” Bucky bellowed, “you think that’s bad? Try us again if you really wanna suffer that badly,” his warning sent a shiver trickling down your spine.

It was then Billy’s turn, tapping the weight of himself against your puffy petals before he used his friend’s load as lube.

And try as you might, even after you guessed wrong, you just couldn’t help but give in to ecstasy once again. You tried to fight it, you truly did, but as Billy’s rhythm rocked you and caused your eyes to roll in your skull, you ended up biting down on your teddy bear’s ear to muffle your moans in a feeble hope at the chance that they might not notice.

But unfortunately, your pussy wasn’t on board with keeping your secret.

“What part of ‘you are not allowed to cum unless you guess correctly’ do you not understand?” Billy chuckled as your cunt fluttered fiercely around him, driving him closer to the edge as well.

Next thing you knew, Steve then curved around the partition and appeared at your side. Though as your hazy gaze tried to focus on him, you ceased to notice the little clamps in his grasp before he then pinched your nipples with them, the small pebbles already half poking out of the low neckline of your nightgown, granting him easy access as he promptly fastened the pair to them both.

“Ouch,” you winced at the unfamiliar sensation, pouting up at your stepbrother’s masked features.

“Oh, suck it up,” he playfully tapped your cheek, “you big baby,” before he vanished from your side once again.

And as Billy swiftly finished as well, you heard him grunt through the wall as he snapped his hips one last time against the plush of your ass, “so, you want something worse on top of what you just got? Not a problem.”

“How about, at the next party, we’ll pretend we don’t know you,” Andy suggested, “seeing as you always use us as a safety net, clinging onto us like a lost puppy, next time, you won’t get that luxury.”

The next few that went, replacing each other like ravenous wildfires, weren’t any you could guess correctly either. First, there was the president of the frat whose broad palm spanked your sore ass even further as he fucked you. Next came Marc, who was quickly traded out with Scott, though each of those two paid close attention, pulling their cocks out whenever your pussy began to flutter around them, trading your sweet cunt out with their own fists and granting you just enough time to back away from the edge before they buried themselves once again.

When it was Ransom’s turn, the long and deep strokes he offered you were almost painfully slow, making your legs tremble in their restraints on either side of his frame.

“Fuck, look at how that little cunnie…” he groaned after you’d once again guessed incorrectly, your fuzzy and edged mind barely letting you mumble coherently any longer, “how is she still so tight after everything?” drawing back his hips to pull his cock out completely, “the fuck do we gotta do to train this hole properly?” he watched how your hole winked up at him, snapping back into place just before he plunge back in and split you back open for his fat girth, “because she’s still acting like a fucking virgin even though that cherry was popped long ago…”

Though when Ransom soon faded back into the crowd and the next man stepped up, a shrill gasp instantly flowed from your lungs as there was only one frat bro such an impossibly thick girth could belong to.

“B-Bucky!” you breathlessly cried out as he utilised the copious loads already dripping out of you as lube to make his efforts easier, though his comrades’ seed swiftly leaked out of you completely as he buried himself inside of you, his monstrous size being the one and only thing your poor pussy could possibly accommodating for, “that’s–, that’s Bucky!”

“Ding, ding, ding!” Bucky chuckled as he rolled his hips, stretching your wrecked hole impossibly wide for him, “good girl!” his hefty balls smacked against your slick skin as he found a greedy rhythm, “you finally guessed right!”

“Well, he is the easiest one to guess, so this kinda feels like cheating,” Marc playfully argued as his dick twitched, once again growing hard.

“Yeah, she would have had to be fucking passed out not to do it,” Curtis laughed cruelly.

“Should it not get to count then?” Thor asked.

“Nah, let her have this,” you heard Steve decide, “go ahead, throw her a bone, Buck,” he uttered as he handed his friend a vibrating wand.

Lowering the buzzing and bulbous head to your puffy pearl, only a moment passed before shockwaves jolted throughout your body, as you were already so close to that agonising edge.

“Oh my god!” you thrashed against your binds as your pussy gushed around Bucky’s girth, his efforts never wavering as you squirting for him. Roaring cheers and wolf whistles filled up the room as you came so hard that the comforting bunny in your arms tumbled to the cold concrete floor.

Your frame then pathetically attempted to squirm away as Bucky chases his own high, his selfish pace overstimulating you so fiercely that you would have almost rather he’d brought the paddle back out instead.

But when he’d pumped you full, his load already overspilled around his girth as it twitched inside of you, though when he withdrew completely, your little pussy gaped for a second, his cum leaking out and dripping down onto the floor, before your opening then clenched around nothing and snapped back into place, quivering around nothing as someone else then stepped closer.

Lloyd first knelt down on the ground before you, getting on eye level with the mess that had been left for him. You shivered as he slid his wide hands up to either side of your ass, before spreading you wide, and watching how you leaked before him.

One of his palms then shifted closer before his touch traced your puffy petals, sweeping through your folds before his fingers drifted down to tickle your untouched little rosebud. Your whole body squirmed as he then tilted closer and let himself have a taste of your mess, lapping greedily at your little virgin asshole, even though you were still so hypersensitive that he only overstimulated you even further, making you wiggle and whimper as he kissed a place that utterly baffled your innocent body with the unexpected pleasure it bloomed.  

“Hey! Come on dude!” the sound of your stepbrother’s rumbling timbre then cut through your haze and halted his friend’s lavish tongue, “we all know you’re an ass man, but that doesn’t mean you’ll be the one to get the honour to feel hers for the first time,” he warned him, “especially not today.”

“What, do you want it to be yourself that pops that cherry as well?” Lloyd cocked a brow as he straightened back up, wiped his moustache of your slickness, and began instead to fuck your pussy, “seriously?”

“If you keep that attitude up, yes,” Steve shot back at him, “but I was thinking maybe we pop all of our names into a hat at some point, draw at random for it,” he suggested, “whoever wins gets to claim their prize exactly how they want.”

Their words then began to fade away as you instead focused all of your might on not letting yourself unravel once again without their blessing. By the time they asked you to identify Lloyd, you could barely make out their voices through your dazed fog.

But when Thor then replaced the moustachioed frat bro and you struggled to keep your sluggish eyes open, they drifted off to the side just in time to spot as Bucky then appeared, curving around the wall, his black mask now tugged up over his gaze so that it instead looked like just an innocent beanie atop of his head.

“Oh no,” he murmured as his vision drifted to Bun Bun discarded on the floor, “when did you drop her, huh? Can’t have that,” his tongue briefly flickered out to wet his mocking grin before he bent down, “here you go, baby,” he picked the plushie up and settled it back into your constricted arms.

And just as you feared that he would disappear from your side, he instead sank down onto his knees to be at your height.

His hand curved up around the crown of your head to pet your hair as he gazed down at you, your entire frame jostling on the slab each time Thor thrust into you. Muffling your whimpers with a sloppy kiss, when he tilted back, he caught onto your chin and pried your mouth back open, just long enough for him to let a dollop of his spit drop down onto your breathless tongue.

And as his touch scooped down to cup the peaks of your tits that spilt out of your neckline, he only chuckled at the eternal pout on your lips, “aw, you wanna cum again, don’t you?” he flicked one of the clamps that still held your sensitive nipple captive.

“P-please,” you trembled beneath his teasing touch.

“Then just guess right for us,” he uttered as if the task was simple. But when the wrong name once again tumbled from your lips, his fingers caught onto both of the nipple clamps before he then harshly yanked them off. The sting made you yelp, though the sensation also caught you off guard with the shock of pleasure that trickled down your spine, akin to the rough spanks earlier, “don’t fucking cum,” he swiftly warned, “don’t do it.”

“B-but, B-Bucky! I-it–, it’s too much, please let me cum,” your eyes fluttered as your pussy began to milk Thor’s cock, “I can’t–”

“Oh, yes you can,” he uttered, hovering over you as you felt Curtis impatiently commenced his go with you, “hold it, don’t fucking slip,” he smiled as each of Curtis’ deep thrusts rhythmically forced all of the air to slip form your lungs, leaving you gasping on the slab as he fucked you so hard that you jerked against the restraints, “be a good girl. This is your punishment, you’re not supposed to be enjoying it.”

But as you stared up into the sea of Bucky’s blue eyes, the visage of him becoming your entire reality, the added visual element they’d previously deprived you of caused you to accidentally tumble over the edge once again as you simply couldn’t help it.

This time, the penalty the pleasure earned you was an entire week of not only you not being allowed to touch yourself, but also the added torture of none of them laying as much as a finger on you.

By the time that Frank had begun his turn, Bucky pinched both of your cheeks, imprisoning your puckered lips, and kissed you one last time before he vanished from your side.

Still dizzy from your unsanctioned high, Frank’s efforts ended up overwhelming you so fiercely that you began to fear that you might pass out from exhaustion before you had the chance to possibly cum again.

But when it became Andy’s go, the eleven loads that had been pumped into your poor pussy looked down right obscene, some splashed in the puddle of your own squirt directly below you, while others still leaked out of your trembling hole, though as he first swatted his palm down over your swollen clit, more cum trickled out of you as your cunt clenched at the impact, before he shifted to plug you back up.

Pinching your clit rudely as he bucked into you, someone soon handed him a black marker as murmurs filled the air of phrases they thought your body would benefit to be decorated with. Though as he dragged the pen over each of your inner thighs, the words he ended up scribbling on your skin with dark ink were ‘Kappa Alpha Nu’s fuckdoll’ and ‘cumdump’ on the other leg, which then had a little arrow pointing towards the poor mess where his dick repeatedly sank into.

And lastly, when you were barely conscious any longer, it finally became your stepbrother’s turn to swap his own fist out with the sweetness of your pussy.

However, as Steve buried his fat length inside of you and fucked you even more raw, when he did you the solid of revealing his identity to you after you’d ultimately guessed incorrectly one last time, something else also attempted to slip inside of your cunt as he soon tried to stuff a finger in alongside his cock.

“Wh-what are you doing?” you gasped in a shrill tone, your drool smearing against your teddy bear.

“Just testing the waters,” he murmured as his digit continued to trace your wrecked hole as it gripped his girth tightly, searching intently for a way inside, “damn… I really thought this would have done the trick.”

“Huh?”

“To stuff this pretty pussy with more than just one cock, you silly,” he pointed out cruelly as if such extremes were a goal of yours as well, “guess we gotta be a lot meaner to her than this if we wanna fill her up more…” he uttered, though his words barely registered in your foggy brain.

You were so edged and yearned to unravel again so badly that it physically ached, though as your sensitive walls fluttered around Steve’s thick girth, you incoherently whined, “c-can I cum again? P-please? I swear, I’ve learned my lesson, I won’t go near any of them again. Please, Steve,” you pouted as tears welled up in your eyes, “I’ll be good. Let me cum. P-please, I can’t hold it anymore, it hurts–”

But instead, your stepbrother’s wide palm came soaring down upon your trembling inner thigh as he grumbled, “too fucking bad,” squeals escaped you as he smacked you a few more times, making your cunt clamper down around him as his hand caught the puff of your pussy, “you should have just been better at guessing if you wanted to cum that badly,” his grip came down to settle around your hips, digging into them as he let his thrusts derail and become rougher, “so, suck it up. After all, it’s your fault you’re in this mess to begin with.”

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