#/ ACTOR AU i DO NOT care

[skylertheghost]

When your in that weird age group where your too young to remember more classic internet era memes and old YouTubers like Smosh or whatever, but your also old enough were you weren’t an iPad baby obsessed with skibidi toilet and rainbow friends

Anyway I grew up (sorta? Is grew up the right term?) with Dantdm, game theory, fnaf, undertale, BATIM, little nightmares, cuphead, baldi’s basic, slenderman Roblox games like survive the natural disasters, royale high, bake a cake, epic mini games, minecraft, animal jam, subway surfers, diary of a wimpy kid, Tom gates, 13th story tree house, captain underpants, that dog comic that was made by the same guy as captain underpants, Gacha life, animation memes, vine, ASDFmovie, nyancat, epic face, tattletail, Annoying orange, ALL of the story time animators and a lot more I’m forgetting. Anyway I’m glad I wasn’t a iPad baby lmfao.

[ratfreecog]

Scare actor au cause I got brain worms!

Buttons makes all the costumes, with help from Stray and Race.

Race is also a makeup artist, along with Mack, Kid Blink, Lucky, Romeo, and Jojo. Most of the people with actual characters also do their own makeup, but people like Albert, Henry, and Elmer without their own character (basically just people without newsie nicknames yes that’s how I’m judging this) always go to a makeup artist.

(Also just for clarification when I’m using newsie names in this like Race and Buttons I mean the people not the characters I just can’t be assed to come up with real names for everyone at least right now)

Last thing and unrelated but Kid Blink totally has an eye patch that he uses as a prosthetic to cover his eye and make it look like he only has half a face, like slenderman kinda smooth skin over his eye and maybe mouth too

[sunfollows]

@wcvensouls sent: ❛ you’re in my veins. you’re under my skin. ❜ from forbidden love sentence starters. not accepting !!

to see his ex-boyfriend again is an experience harper would, under normal circumstances, avoid. these are, however, not normal circumstances. he had broken up with taesoo two years prior for a variety of reasons that had, ultimately, culminated in not wanting to hold him back from becoming the amazing actor harper had always known he would be.

and now here they are.

acting together. 

he’s aware of the irony.

determined to be professional, he thinks he’s done a relatively good job of not seeming completely, irrevocably hung up on the boy whose heart he broke because of his own insecurities, but sometimes, it’s so hard. his chest aches when they’re near each other, even moreso when he meets the frosty gaze that used to hold nothing but deep, passionate love. 

he did this to himself, he knows, he’s aware, and he’s a damn hypocrite for letting it hurt so bad, but his chest feels empty and it has since he ended things.

harper knows one thing for certain, something he realized the first time they’d seen each other again for a table read: he’s still hopelessly, desperately, miserably in love with bin taesoo. he doesn’t think that’ll ever change.

it makes pretending to be with him a touch too easy, something others on set have remarked on, but they always brush it off with a laugh, never responding much when they know taesoo can hear it. because what can they say, really?

harper spends the time before filming starts focused on the script, as if he hasn’t had everything memorized from the day he got it. anything to avoid taesoo until the camera starts.

they’re filming the long-awaited confession scene, something harper has been dreading for quite some time, but he’s an actor in his first leading role now. he can do this. he can hear sweet nothings coming out of his ex’s mouth and be absolutely fine with it, because it’s just a job, and taesoo doesn’t love him anymore. 

the way he speaks to them and looks at them when the cameras stop rolling is proof enough of that. 

it’s going fine until the confession actually starts. as scripted, taesoo’s character leads the scene, giving an impassioned speech sure to make viewers swoon as he comes closer and closer, each word like a knife in harper’s heart. 

“you’re in my veins. you’re under my skin,” he says softly, hands coming up to touch their face, and, god, he used to talk to harper like that. he used to love him like that. he hates the way his eyes start to sting as he stares at taesoo with wide eyes, lips slightly parted. hates the way his throat hurts when he swallows hard, and he hates that he did this to them because he was young and stupid.

the pause he takes is brief enough it could be scripted, reminding himself that this isn’t taesoo talking to him, that he has a job to do and that’s all this is for them both. a job. harper takes a shaky breath and hopes that, maybe, taesoo has forgotten how to read him as he wracks his brain for his character’s response.

“you’re part of my soul,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. if his words waver, he’s just … in character, that’s all. his eyes close as taesoo kisses him for the cameras, and harper’s never been more starkly aware that something isn’t real, even as he gets kissed almost the same way he used to and his body melts into taesoo’s with a familiarity even seasoned actors can’t fake.

if anyone notices the way he rushes off once they’re done with the scene, they don’t say anything to him later. even taesoo.

he deserves that.

[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

[remi-thirsts]

𝐅𝐀𝐕 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍?

pairing: gojo, geto, choso, and toji x fem!reader (separate) summary: celeb!au where the boys are interviewed and asked a pretty personal question ! (I took nanami out bc I don't think he would want to share your business with the world) content: kinda suggestive, established relationships, allusions to sexual themes, mentions of dacryphyilia in toji's, pet names, cursing, celebrity!au (model, singer, actor, etc) wc: 1.4k

♡ 𝐒. 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

"Yes, yes! Thank you for joining us today, Gojo-san. All of your fans are excited to see you play the new lead role in this upcoming movie!" For the past hour Gojo has been answering questions many of his fans have with an interviewer who has gathered some of the most asked questions.

"Next question!" The women exclaims excitedly, when she reads the card she pauses in shock, "Um.. who put this card in there...?" Now the white haired actor was curious.

"Well, what does it say? I'm sure it can't be that bad." His cocky attitude is showing, but a huge percentage of his fans like when he's like this. It makes fantasizing him all the more creative and exciting; or so you hear.

"Uh...uh. Um-" She remembers the camera is rolling, and this is live TV. "Many fans know you have a girlfriend and a lot of them want to ask,

"What is your favorite position?"

Gojo knew his PR team would probably get on his ass for answering this question instead of moving on to a different one but he doesn't care- at all.

"This is a tough one... hm. I guess if I had to choose I'd say cowgirl. I love the way she rides," he pauses for a second before continuing with excitement, "She's hella good at it too! Every time I watch her bounce on it my eyes about roll to the back of my-"

"OKAY. Thank you, Mr. Gojo!" She interrupts, quickly turning to the camera with a very forced smile.

"There you have it! We'll be back after a brief commercial break!"

♡ 𝐒. 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

Your boyfriend, Suguru, started a podcast about his music life with his band mates two years ago. Since his group already had quite a huge fan base, it was no surprise they took to their podcast with excitement.

Usually the group would talk about funny backstage stories or moments where their performances were almost ruined. Today they're doing a Q&A, the questions that are most asked will be answered first, while less popular questions will be answered later.

"Oh shit, people wanna know Suguru." He quirks an eyebrow, the raven haired male leans his mic towards his lips so the people can hear his voice.

"Know what?" A sly smirk forms on his face because he knows there could be at least a million things 'the people wanna know.'

"They wanna know what's your favorite position to have your girl in." The lead singer snickers whilst asking the question. Suguru clicks his tongue and taps on the desk a few times.

"I really like to have her legs behind her head cuz I can reach really deep that way."

"Sooo, mating press?" Their lead singer is just as nosy as their fans so of course he's gonna press on.

"Hell yeah, man." Some of them clap and others laugh at Suguru's openness.

-----

You were really busy but you decided to tune into your boyfriend's podcast after a bunch of people tagged you on twitter to go listen to today's episode.

When you hear Suguru tell all 2 million of his podcast listeners what position he likes to fuck you in, you scream into your pillow and turn into a giggling mess.

He never knows how to keep his mouth shut, and you love it.

♡ 𝐂. 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

You're laying on your boyfriend's bed listening to him play his game. Choso's a big time streamer at this point. Four years ago when he started his fan base was quite small and he just enjoyed the few who would join his gaming streams. Now, Choso streams as work and he still loves it just as much as he had long ago.

"Thank you for the tip 'prettyem0b0y22'," Usually Choso reads aloud whatever message they leave with their tips but he hesitates this time.

"Uh- you don't really expect me to answer that, right? She's laying on the bed right now."

That statement immediately grabs your attention, you glance at his monitor screens, trying to get a peek at whatever his fan was asking of him.

It seems plenty of others want to know the answer to this question too because the chat starts speeding up, meaning that they're spamming.

"Guys come on, I'll turn chat off if you guys don't stop." Choso is as scary as a cute little kitten, so they just keep at it, and now you're curious too. What could possibly be that bad that he didn't want to answer it and to be fair he has answered some pretty crazy questions before.

"Indulge me Cho, what did 'prettyem0b0y22' wanna know?" His head swings so fast he could have gotten whiplash from it. His cheeks are burning pink and his brows furrow in confusion.

"I promise it wasn't anything crazy, don't worry about it." Oh, you're worrying about it alright. His strange behavior prompts you to spring up off the bed and walk your way over to his desk.

Instead of just taking a quick look at the chat, you make yourself comfortable in your boyfriend's lap. Obviously the chat goes absolutely crazy when they see you make this gesture. Choso is no doubt embarrassed but he slings an arm around your waist anyway.

"So what was the question he couldn't answer in front of me?" Prettyem0b0y22 wastes no time sending another hefty tip.

"I asked him what's his fav postion with you." When you read the whole thing aloud some giggles leave your lips.

"He likes when I ride him while facing him. For what reason? He's a titty man." Choso gasps as you expose both of you. The risks are high, anyone, literally anyone could see this clip and think something about you, but you don't care. It's your body and his, people don't have power over how you two interact with each other.

The chat explodes with all kinds of things, most are shocked emojis, while others are spamming the cherry emoji. Luckily, Choso's moderator team puts slow chat on and does a few other precautions to settle the situation.

"Baby- I- what if your family sees this? Or worse your boss?!" His concern is absolutely adorable.

"Well I guess I'd have to start a streaming channel of my own?" Everyone in his chat is totally on board with that idea. They've seen you play for Choso before and they think your commentary on games is quite funny.

"I don't want you to lose your job though." This time he whines in pure worry.

"I won't, baby. It'll be alright. Don't overthink it."

♡ 𝐓. 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

Toji's got what people want to see in model catalogs and magazines. The slutty waist, the well defined but not too defined muscles, his beautiful eyes and long lashes. Toji is a picture perfect model, which is what landed him his modeling gig and even a whole career a few years later.

A journalist, who's particularly interested in his dating life more than his modeling career asks him a bunch of dating related questions.

Some have speculated that Toji was dating, but he neither confirmed nor denied those allegations. You and Toji agreed to keep your relationship on the down low, because having a bunch of strangers in your personal business was not desirable.

The journalist woman words the questions in a way of inference.

"Assuming you had a girlfriend, Fushiguro-sama. What would your favorite position in bed be?" At first Toji groans but then when he registers the question he decides he'll answer it hypothetically when in reality it is something he likes to do with you.

"Hypothetically speaking, if I had a girlfriend my favorite position with her would be missionary, because I'd want to look at her pretty face when she's cryin' on my cock." The journalist writes that down, Toji knows everything he says will be censored but the people will still be able to figure it out.

"Missionary, really? Many people online have guessed you were a doggy-style kind of guy. Based off of your twitter statement that said and I quote 'Love it when her ass is phat. Love squeezing that thing.' End quote"

Toji lets out a deep laugh before answering the woman, "Doggy-style is for people I don't care about, people I don't want to look at, my girl- if I had a girl, she wouldn't be just any fuck."

More theories start to surface after Toji's slip up of words, and that's okay, because they don't know you and you don't know them.

divider: @/plutism

[i2ycat]

got me looking for attention

pairing actor!sunghoon x actress!fem!reader synopsis actor sunghoon who is completely and utterly infatuated with you — his celebrity crush genre actor!au, established relationship, fluff warnings simp sunghoon main masterlist

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

sunghoon would start playing roles as an aspiring actor in his late teens to early twenties, while u’re an actress that started off as a child actress, garnering around 10 years of experience under ur belt

once at an interview, before u guys started dating, sunghoon offhandedly mentioned that he wanted to start a career on the actor path after watching a drama of urs where u were one of the main leads

he was also whipped for u from then on

years before u guys started dating, sunghoon would immediately agree to acting in any and every drama that u’re in

he didn’t even care if he only got to be on screen for a split second because, at the very least, he gets to be on the same set as you, let alone breathe the same air as u

u’re literally his BIGGEST celebrity crush and would mention u as exactly that in EVERY SINGLE variety show he’s in…

so much so that whenever u get invited to same the same shows days, or even months later, they just HAVE to mention sunghoon’s little crush on u

like straight up, if u only had 1 fan, sunghoon is going to be THAT 1 fan

further down into sunghoon’s acting career, he would finally get the recognition needed to land a main lead role in a romance drama, with u as the second female lead

of course sunghoon was bummed out to see that u weren’t going to be his main lead but he digressed, cause when was he ever going to get a chance like this ever again? probably never… or not

every single day, he would greet u with the cheesiest smile on his face, to which all the staff and fellow actors around would simply coo because his feelings for u are so painfully obvious and it’s so damn cute to see him try so hard

when i say he tries so hard, i mean that he tries SO DAMN HARD to get ur attention, he doesn’t even care how pathetic he looks or seems because at least he’s shooting his shot!

he’d do so by making sure he’s looking EXTRA scrumptious on camera, by winking at u whenever u guys have scenes together, or adding extra flirty lines that aren’t even on script just to catch u off guard and stare at u in utter awe as the light pink spreads from your cheeks outwards

in both the drama and real life, the chemistry between u guys are OFF THE ROOF, astronomical even, as sparks fly off every direction and hitting everyone in the face

he has more chemistry with u than the actual main lead AND sunghoon takes pride in the fact that netizens ship the both of u more…

just imagine him scrolling through the comments underneath a shipping edit of u both and giggling like a highschool girl

(yes, he would search up sunghoon x you shipping edits on youtube, tiktok, instagram, whatever platform there is possible)

he becomes straight up putty in ur hands and the netizens are always teasing sunghoon for being such a loser lover boy around u

by now, there’s hundreds upon hundreds of compilations with u guys being all lovey-dovey together and sunghoon being impossibly whipped for u

like with every interaction u guys have, sunghoon always has the same lovestruck gaze, the same reddish tint in his cheeks and the same endeared expression… he just can’t control the way he feels or the way he looks at u whenever u’re around

after long shoots, the both of you would always have dinner together as friends… mostly due to sunghoon’s constant whining (he would definitely whine ab it, i don’t make the rules)

sometimes the occasional drinking, and there would be one time sunghoon had drunkenly confessed to u but thank god (not) u were as drunk as he was and couldn’t even remember

sometime during the multiple months of shooting, u and sunghoon would eventually start talking because he finally GREW THE BALLS TO ACTUALLY MAKE A MOVE ON U instead of just not so secretly admiring u from afar

and by the time shooting for the drama comes to an end, u guys have already started a full-fledged relationship

AND IN THE RELATIONSHIP, MY BOY HAS NOT CHANGED ONE SINGLE BIT.. actually his infatuation with u might’ve gotten even worse

he’s so insufferable when he talks ab u

he literally follows every single fan account of urs, giggling as he watches cute little clips of u on his off time

when u hold those concert/fanmeets, something of that sort, sunghoon would ALWAYS buy front row tickets…

like it’s so obvious to everyone around that area that this borderline crazy screaming man making hearts with his entire body is your boyfriend

but even if he tries to keep his presence somewhat lowkey, they’ll find out anyways because he ABSOLUTELY LOVES to show off that he’s UR man, so expect to hear lots of “THAT’S MY GIRL RIGHT THERE!” or “I’M HER BOYFRIEND!!” whenever u’re on screen

like u’d think he would be the tsundere type, but NOOOO my boy is a certified simp who is LOUD AND CLEAR

there would be times when u won the best actress award, and sunghoon, who is sporting the biggest boyish smile known to man, is immediately shown on screen and people just can’t but be jealous of how whipped he is for u

he posts domestic pictures of u on his instagram every single day, like ur head on his lap, u cooking dinner, u playing games, u playing cards with ur nieces, etc… atp his personal instagram page is just a fanpage for u

if u think ur agency is doing a good job at promoting u, then think again because sunghoon is ABSOLUTELY destroying ur pr and marketing team like there’s no tomorrow

he promotes all ur dramas just because he can;

exhibit a) he posts pictures of the tv with ur drama playing; exhibit b) he talks about ur upcoming drama in every single variety show he’s in; and exhibit c) he gets all his friends to post ur drama on their instagrams

he talks about u every chance he gets… and that’s basically every single moment he breathes

after u guys started dating, he would only agree to acting roles that don’t have romance elements, explaining that he would only accept to acting romance roles if u were in them, even if u were completely fine with it

he’s so whipped for u that it becomes a trend all over the nation called ‘the sunghoon’, which implies that u’re helplessly head over heels for someone and that u’re being very shameless about it

© i2ycat 2024 i live laugh love breath sunghoon idc idc

[kookslastbutton]

Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | ch. i

✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, slight actor!taehyung x ceo!reader

genre/AU: angst, smut, loverstoexesto ?, unrequited love

word count: 3,328

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, mention of gossip columns and unequal treatment of how oc is portrayed post-divorce, hint of differences between men and women in the business world, oc struggling to be professional, both care about each other and are not toxic but oc fell in love, oc has the need to groom him a little out of habit, talks about Bam, feat, Namjoon and Taehyung, and sexual content

sexual warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, desk s*x, d*rty talk, oc is on bc, handjob, swearing, making out, neck kisses, clothed s*x, impulsive s*x, light praising, growling, some minor petnames (baby, Kook), mention of threesome, recalling of past sexual events

playing: Unkiss Me

a/n: uh…this one has been in my drafts and idk its kinda angsty but I decided I will share it. Enjoy! 🥰

series masterlist | next >>

From the moment he stepped into your office, Jungkook could tell every ounce of color was drained from your face. All except for your puffy red eyes that is, which he knows you've been rubbing fervently to keep your tears from rolling down your cheeks.

He doesn't blame you for it though–you're his ex-wife.

Recent ex-wife that is.

For three years the two of you masqueraded as the perfect power couple; appearing completely in love to the public eye in hopes of forming an unshakable business partnership (transaction more like). You attended charity balls together, collaborated on several work projects, and attended countless corporate functions to establish both your presence in your respective industries.

That's right, you and Jungkook were in an arranged marriage and it would have flourished into a classic love story if it wasn't for one obvious detail–you're the only one that fell in love.

Despite all the times he's called you "stunning" when you dolled up for formal events or that you "feel so good" during late-night sex, Jungkook never truly loved you. He cared about you, did his best not to intentionally hurt you, and even tried loving you back; thinking he could fall for you with time.

But the most he could ever see you as is a friend, a beautiful friend, though a friend nonetheless. He knows how much it pains you, especially after you've held out hope that he'll want you the same way someday. This one embarrasses you the most which he wishes it wouldn't.

Well, Jungkook doesn't want to trap either of you in a loveless marriage any longer. So even if it means being the center of gossip columns for a while, he's giving you a divorce so you can find the right person to share your love with.

After all, you deserve it; you both do.

Today's day one of looking at one another as exes and it's bittersweet, to say the least. The only factor that would make this worse is if children were in the equation, but there aren't any.

"Thanks for letting me swing by __," he speaks first, doing his best to conjure up a genuine smile. The black floral button-up he's wearing suits him well and his smooth chest peaking out near the collar is far too tempting, yet you know better than to let your eyes linger.

"Of course," you answer and grab a small box from behind your desk. "These are 100% yours so I wouldn't keep them from you." Jungkook takes the box of belongings from your hands with slight hesitation. You're keeping a brave front for the sake of civility and professionalism.

He doesn't blame you for that either.

As a CEO of a large multinational corporation himself, Jungkook's no stranger to the age-old philosophy that that office is no place to let your personal woes get out of hand; you have a team to lead and a reputation to uphold. The latter is proving to be harder for you than him, however, being that the media is portraying you as some kind of she-devil, spinster, or worse of all—a cheater.

Jungkook plans to personally make sure those articles get removed from the public eye before the end of the week. (Not that he'll tell you though.)

"I still could have dropped by the house to pick these up if it'd been easier. I feel bad for interrupting your work day over a couple of old books, records, and dog toys." He watches you nod silently as he vocalizes the inconvenience of it all; he really doesn't have to but he does it anyway.

"No, it's alright. You haven't been to the house since you moved out, so I thought it'd be better if we met here instead." You pause to check the time. "If there's anything you think of that you might've forgotten later, just let me know. In the meantime, I have a meeting in twenty so..."

"He misses you."

"I'm sorry?"

"Bam, I mean." Jungkook throws the box under an arm and pulls out his phone. He scrolls through his camera gallery until he gets to one particular photo of a red and tan Doberman. "He hates the new place and all he does is sulk by the door."

Your heart's already struggling to settle down from the painful reality that the man you love is leaving you, let alone being reminded of another forced separation. Bam's the closest thing to a baby that either of you ever had and he was one of the few things that bonded you and your now ex-husband together.

Being Jungkook's dog, however, he couldn't stay with you. That means no more visiting the dog park, sneaking treats behind Jungkook's back, and snuggling together in the king-size bed after a stressful day.

"I'm sure he just wants his favorite chew toy that's been held hostage at the house," you joke lightly, thinking it simpler to spin the topic. It's similar to what Jungkook does when he uses flowery language to soften the cold hard truth of your divorce; that he doesn't love you and he can't ever. "Give Bam a lot of attention for me. I miss him too."

"Of cour—shit!" When Jungkook moves to slip his phone back into his pocket he loses his balance, causing the box with his belongings to spill out on your office floor. Naturally, you kneel down to help him clean up the mess. It's not until your fingers reach for the same item and come into contact with each other that you quickly retract your hand. "Sorry, did I shock you?" He asks gently and tosses the last item into the box before standing up.

"No, you didn't." You rise to your feet as well, until you're face to face with him. This time it's closer than before. His hooded eyes stare straight into yours and you can't believe it takes being inches from his face to notice how bloodshot his eyes are. "You look exhausted. You should go home and rest Kook." The petname is out before your brain tells you to stop.

Jungkook's eyes widen, the corner of his lip subtly quirking up for the first time since the start of the conversation. "Don't worry about me __. I probably get more breaks than you do. But thanks." He briefly glances at the ticking Snoopy clock behind you, a Christmas gift he gave you as a joke last year. "You still have that?"

You look over your shoulder at the small, Snoopy-shaped digital clock on your desk. Ten minutes until your next meeting. "It's cute and it makes for a great conversation starter with clients so I guess so. If you want me to give it ba—"

"Keep it," he interrupts. "Please, it was a gift and I'd like you to have it if you enjoy it." Jungkook gnaws on his lip before continuing. "Speaking of clients and business partners, I should make myself scarce now shouldn't I?"

"Yes. I do have that meeting soon." But once he leaves, neither of you is sure when you'll see the other again aside from the odd charity event. The Annual Winter Gala in December is one that particularly comes to mind.

Most high-ranking executives like yourselves attend the function to keep up appearances and to network with other professionals. Last year, you and Jungkook were the center of attention however now that you're divorced, you fear you'll be avoided like the plague—they always preferred Jungkook over you anyway.

"You're forming a new partnership with that actor, right? Kim Taehyung? I read an inkling about it online yesterday." He also read his whole biography too. The man is equally handsome as he is altruistic and kind.

"Nothing's signed and sealed yet. I'm sure you've heard that he's gotten dozens of other offers on the table. To be honest, I'm surprised you haven't nabbed him yet."

"Yeah, we don't need...wait sorry, let me rephrase that. We aren't ready for a new partner or merger yet."

You can read between the lines despite Jungkook's correction. His company is thriving more than yours in every way, so he doesn't need the help of a third-party endorser...like you. Well, you're not doing too shabby yourself and this isn't simply about fame and fortune you want to argue.

The head poking through your door stops you from following through on that last line.

"Mrs. Jeon—shit." Your secretary Kim Namjoon screws his eyes shut at his drastic misstep. "Ms. __, Kim Taehyung called and said he'll be a bit late due to unexpected delays during his filming today. He apologizes profusely but is on his way over now. Sajangnim," he bows at Jungkook respectively.

"That's fine, Namjoon, thank you. You can send him in whenever he gets here. Mr. Jeon was just about to leave and I had the rest of my day cleared."

"Of course. I'll let him know to come in." Your secretary nods and shuts the door. Jungkook shifts between his feet once Namjoon is out of sight, a habit he's picked up that tells you he has more to say.

"Was there anything else, Mr. Jeon?" You shuffle a few files on your desk, prepping for your meeting with Taehyung. At this point, you're not even looking at Jungkook.

"Mr. Jeon? I think I prefer when you call me Kook more," he mutters, allowing his line of sight to catch a glimpse of your lips. "Can I...kiss you? Before I go."

The question knocks the wind out of your lungs and you instantly lift your head up toward him. "Kiss me?" You gulp slowly, then shake your head. "No, I'd rather we not. Goodbye kisses aren't really my thing." You couldn't be a bigger liar, evident from the sudden churning in your gut. Having Jungkook's lips on yours was the best and worst moments of your entire relationship but you have to fight yourself....your innate desires that tell you to say yes.

"Okay, I understand. What about a hug?"

"Jungkook..."

"I'm sorry, I'm pushing. Thanks again for my stuff." He gestures at the box under his arm. "I hope your meeting with Kim Taehyung goes well. Maybe I'll see you both at the next Winter Gala." He makes a beeline for the door.

"Wait!"

Jungkook stills in his tracks as he watches you stride in front of him. He's unsure what you stopped him for until your hands reach out towards his shirt collar, smoothing the delicate material down. A light smile plays on his face as you do this, though he says nothing aside from a simple 'thanks'.

"It was bothering me the whole time." You finish fixing his collar and peer up into his Bambi eyes. Out of all the potential suitors, you wish Jeon Jungkook didn't become your husband. It's not like you got to keep him or anything.

Jungkook once again flickers his gaze toward your barely parted lips. And this time, you do the same for him. Before either of you have time to back out you lean forward and kiss him.

It's a hard kiss too. Painful but so inviting that neither of you pulls away.

With his free hand, Jungkook snakes a hand around your waist to hug you close. Having his fingers pressed against the small of your back is so familiar and all you can do is deepen the kiss.

You're obviously not the only one that gets a sense of pleasure from this because, in a matter of seconds, the box from under Jungkook's arm falls to the ground. He then places his second hand on the side of your neck and jawline which you lean into, exposing the other side of your neck.

"Jungkook," you gasp when his lips attach themself to the soft skin, sucking lightly. His teeth come out and nip too. "Wait, we can't do this, we shouldn't. Taehyung, he'll be here soon."

"That would have sounded so convincing if you didn't just moan the words, baby." He walks you backward until you're forced to sit atop your mahogany desk.

"Don't call me that." You allow him to push up your pencil skirt and spread your thighs until your panties are the only material he sees. You decided to go with black lace today, his favorite now that you think about it.

"Did you—"

"No, they weren't for you."

A brief growl leaves the man's rose-tinted lips. "In that case, we don't need them." He places both hands on your hips and brings you into another kiss, messier than before. His tongue shoves between the seam of your lips to lick every crevasse he can. He hasn't kissed you like this for months and to be brutally honest, he's missed it as much as you.

Jungkook hasn't been with anyone else since marrying you either, which means he's completely adjusted to your body, your preferences, and what turns you on. The same applies to you so while he's busy shoving his tongue down your throat, you palm his half-harden bulge through his trousers.

"Mm," he groans and bucks his hips into your hand. You smile at how well you've managed to draw a response from him. With a little burst of confidence, you hastily move to unbuckle his pants. "What are you doing?" He mumbles between kisses.

You decide not to answer, preferring to reach inside his trousers to take his length out. You make sure to pump it a few times until he's fully hard. Jungkook has a gorgeous dick, and that takes a lot for you to admit.

"Fuck, that's it." He says with gritted teeth, now watching your hand as it moves up and down his cock. "Get me how you want me."

"We don't have much time." You slide your panties down your legs and spread your thighs wide apart, which makes Jungkook's eyes dilate about 10 meters. "Fuck me, please." One last time. Make love to me one last time.

"Are you sure? I don't have a condom."

"It's okay, I'm on birth control. As long as you're still clean then its fine."

"I am. I got tested recently. But are you sure you want this?"

You glance at his pulsating length, tip leaking with pre-cum, and swallow hard. "Hurry."

"Fuck, okay." Jungkook wastes not another second and guides you flat on your back, his hands resting on either side of your body. The coolness of your desk has you shiver slightly. He then urges you to raise your legs until they can wrap loosely around his slim waist. And as if second nature, you link your arms around his neck as he eases him into you. He's able to bottom out without much effort thanks to how wet you've become.

"Oh god." Your back arches off the surface of your desk as Jungkook thrusts into you. They're only practice thrusts at first to get you re-adjusted to his size, yet the pleasure zipping down your spine already has your eyes rolling up.

You shouldn't be doing this at all. Your conscious whispers to again to which you blindly dismiss. You'll enjoy it now and tomorrow, start a new—another lie you tell yourself.

"Fuckfuckfuck, you're so wonderful for me," he chants while pushing his cock in and out of you, the speed of his movements picking up to an insane rate. Jungkook never had an issue with quickies so he's likely in his element now. "You know what this reminds me of?" He cocks a smirk and kisses down your neck.

"Hm?"

"That time when we were abroad for a weekend conference. Remember when we stopped at my second office to pick up some files? You were so horny that day that you pushed me into my chair and demanded that I let you ride me. It took the wind right out of my sails to see you like that, so confident and in control." He prys apart the top button of your blouse until he can slide the material down your shoulders. He doesn't take it off completely, favoring the chance to place kisses on your newly exposed area instead.

"I was beyond stressed that day. It was the first time I had to speak at that conference and you looked so good with your freshly slicked back hair. I couldn't stop myself—oh fuck! Right there Kook, don't slow down. Please." Jungkook grunts at the use of his petname and fucks you rougher, sweat forming around his forehead as his dark hair dangles messily over his eyes.

You manage to sneak a glance at the time on your Snoopy clock between thrusts. "Shit, I need to come soon, or Kim Taehyung's never going to agree to do business with me." The man laughs and buries his head on your shoulder.

"You never know, he could be really into threesomes."

"Fuck! Don't joke about that." You claw at his back and surprise both of you with the unexpected clenching of your pussy.

"You're right, I take it back," he groans and continues to snap his hips. "Looks like he's not the one who wants a threesome after all, considering your body's response to the suggestion. You wanna ask him if he walks in?" He whispers in your ear and you're embarrassed that your cheeks burn at the thought.

Of course, Kim Taehyung was sexy and you've rehearsed to yourself dozens of times not to let yourself get any crazy ideas about him. Still, one unrequited love is enough for you; Taehyung wouldn't want a divorcee. You shake the train of thought before it has time to go any further. "Make me come, Kook. Need you to finish too. It's not just Taehyung who could walk in at any second."

Jungkook grunts and continues to thrust into you, bouncing you up and down his thick length as the desk shakes underneath you. He feels you getting closer and closer by the sporadic clenching of your walls squeezing him. A big part of him doesn't want this to end but it has to....he doesn't love you. He only wants to make you feel good before he has to say goodbye. Both of you come just before Namjoon calls your office phone, giving you a heads-up that Taehyung's about to enter your office.

Jungkook shoves his pants back on while you button up your blouse and fold over your skirt. You decided to shove your underwear in your bag with the lack of time. No one has any business digging in there anyway.

"How do I look?" You turn around to get a quick once-over from Jungkook but he's already out the door. Now the person standing in front of you is Kim Taehyung who has nothing but the most genuine smile.

"You look lovely as always Ms. __. I'm so sorry I'm late by the way. I feel terrible about it so I brought you these." Taehyung whips out a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. "Hope you don't mind that I did a little research on you ahead of time. I found out these have a special place in your heart."

You smile and accept the bouquet with thanks. As you set them on your desk, a messages comes through your phone. You manage to give a quick look.

Unknown Number: Sorry I had to duck so fast! I know it looked rude but Taehyung was already opening the door and you were dressed so I thought it'd be better if I left. Hope you're meeting goes well! And thanks for everything today ;) if you need anything, you have my number.

You flip your phone over and invite Taehyung to have a seat. Business is business, and you have to carry on even if your heart has completely sunk to the ground. Kim Taehyung is sweet anyway, so you'll enjoy his company.

Too bad you don't realize how much he enjoys yours as well.

a/n: so, yeah... there's a potential for our Jk to actually love oc and not realize it but either way he does care about her (despite the impulsive sex). And yes, taehyung likes oc... it's like a double unrequited love 😔 okay bye lmk what you think, thank you! 😘

Also, lmk what you think about jk in this poll!

masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[kaveehs]

Not So Secret — Gojo Satoru

gn!reader, wc 0.8k, fluff, established relationship, high school au, jealous!gojo cuz he’s silly

synopsis: Gojo was not a “jealous” guy, but he also wasn’t the best at keeping your relationship a secret.

a/n: JJK 2 IS HERE SO I HAD TO WRITE MY SILLY <333

In his own eyes, Gojo was not the jealous type.

He hated the title more than anything. Although it without a doubt summed up the tight feeling he would get in his chest when other guys approached you, or the ever growing need he felt to tell the world you were his, he would never call himself jealous.

In part, he blamed his feelings on the fact your relationship with him was a secret. After all, that bit was your idea, but he can’t put you at fault for the reasoning. You wished to keep your relationship with him a secret because of how different you both were.

You were a quiet, straight laced student— you always kept to yourself despite being at the top of your class. He was the exact opposite, infamously known as a troublemaker around school, as well as being dubbed as some kind of “player” by your classmates. You knew the types of comments people would say about your relationship if it were to ever go public.

Gojo understood this completely, but there was just one small factor you overlooked— you were incredibly pretty. You were beautiful and he wasn’t the only one who recognized it. He wasn’t the only one to be intrigued by your personality. Gojo told himself that he was ok with this fact, and he wasn’t insecure either— far from it. His heart always knew in the end, you would choose him over the people that would try to pursue you with romantic interest.

When he saw one of your classmates attempting to drop subtle hints to you today, he couldn’t help but feel something had to change. He knew you would probably make some cute excuse as to why you can’t take the guy’s number, or how you’re focused on your studies rather than relationships, and how you would wonder if they would be convinced or still persist, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he let out a sigh of synthetic relief as he snaked his arms around you from behind. He already knew where you would be— seeing as you texted him which classroom you were in and to come find you later. You were shocked by his actions, smiling meekly at your classmate who was also in dismay.

“Satoru, hi,” you muttered quietly, but Gojo was able to sense the annoyance in your tone. He laughed cheekily, squeezing you harder, fully knowing you would probably kill him for this later. “I thought I told you to come find me later,” you spoke with your jaw fully clenched.

“No could do. Missed you too much,” he sighed dramatically, rocking you back and forth. You could tell your classmate wanted to say something, but bit his tongue and kept quiet.

“Excuse us for a minute,” you said sweetly but apologetically as you dragged Satoru out of the classroom and to an empty one. He could practically see an aura of fire radiating off your body as you let go of his arm and shut the door.

“What was that about?” You crossed your arms, glaring straight at Satoru who’d made himself comfortable on one of the desks.

“What was what about?” He nonchalantly replied to your question. Him pretending to be oblivious set you off even more.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re a horrible actor Satoru,” you marched over to his desk. “What happened to keeping us a secret?”

“Oh, so that’s what you mean,” he nodded in understanding as he sat up. “It’s really hard to do that,” Satoru shrugged, patting the empty space next to him for you to sit. Although annoyed, you complied, arms still crossed and all.

“I know I promised to keep us a secret,” he admitted. “But I can’t stand the thought of someone else trying to flirt with you.”

“So you’re jealous.”

“No, not jealous,” he scoffed, looking at your usual smile slowly creeping back to your lips. “I just think we shouldn’t care about what others think about us.”

“I know,” you relaxed a bit too as you felt Satoru lean his head on your shoulder. “I guess I’m kinda scared.”

He let out a small chuckle, taking your own hand into his. He understood your fears all too well, and wanted nothing more than for you to be confident.

“You don’t have to be,” he shook his head softly against you, interlocking your hands together. “No one’s words can make me think less of you.”

“You don’t have to be jealous either,” you affirmed, sarcasm heavy in your tone. He pouted, pretending to be dramatically hurt by your comment.

“I don’t get jealous,” he clicked his tongue, as if he was correcting you. “But you know, you get really angry. Even though you’re subtle about it, you have such a cute angry face.” He knew exactly how to bring light into your mood, attempting to recreate your so-called ‘angry face’.

“I really can’t stand you,” you exaggerated as you leaned into him, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb. “You really are the jealous type, Satoru.”

[runningwithscizzorz]

what are your current LMK Au‘s :))))))) ?

Let me think…

An AU where all the demon and heavenly characters in LMK go completely insane, lost to time and become lifeless husks only capable of bursts of celestial power and foggily recalling their beings and responsibilities

An AU with Mac as Pedro Pas- I mean- Joel, and Bai He is Ellie in a winter apocalypse

An AU where Mac brings Bai He to the bus stop for school everyday and takes care of her and grows closer to her

An Au where LMK is a live action show and all the characters are just actors and do silly blooper shenanigans together

A Whisper of the Heart AU where Mei is Shizuku, RedSon is Seiji, and Wukong is Nishi

An AU where it's literally just Monsters Inc but Wukong is Sulley, Nezha is Mike, MK is Boo, Mac is Randall (even tho I think Peng suits him better), PIF is Roz, and Azure is Waternoose

A Perfect Blue AU where MK is slowly disassociating between his monkey form and his actual self (I never did anything with it, it's just one of my favorite movies)

[marigoldenblooms]

Drunken Confessions - Drabble

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff  x Agent!Reader

Prompt: You never called on her for anything, always staying at a distance from  Natasha. She was starting to think you hated her, that your lingering glances and continual avoidance was because you didn’t want to know her. That changes when you call her drunk off your ass at 1 am. 

MINORS DNI - 18+

Tags: Drunkenness, slight drunken confessions, mentions of harassment, Reader calls Natasha “Natty,” Natasha calls reader “Agent,” Natasha has a motorcycle, fluff, hurt/comfort.

A/N: Had this one in my word counter for a while, and thought I’d finish it up! Quick little doozy, wanted a break from all the smut totally wholesome drafts I have going (although none of my work is not 18+ even without smut content! Once again, Minors DNI!) Biker women own my heart (I’d love to do a proper Biker!AU if anyone’s got any ideas!) Asks/requests are open! Director!N x Actor!R x Actor!W is coming soon... >:))

Word Count: 777 - Read Length: 2 minutes, 50 seconds. Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners!

~~~ 

It had been a while since you’d been out drinking, and even longer since you asked for Natasha’s help. You were acquaintances, perhaps even coworkers, but she thought it stopped there. You always avoided her- you were a beautiful stranger, lost in the night. And even still, when she heard her phone buzz with your ringtone this late, she picked up without a second thought.

“Agent?” She’d question, brow furrowing as she’d sit up, slinging her arm across her knee. She could hear the sound of cars around you, though from your heavy, stumbling footfalls you weren’t in one. You were drunk. 

“Natty..-“ you’d keen and she’d blush, wiping the sleep from her face as Natasha tried to ignore the sweetness in your tone, and the nickname on your lips- never used for her. She wished it came out of your sober mouth. You’d stop walking and she’d hear you huff, stuck in an alleyway you didn’t recognize. “I think I’m..-lost, I’m lost, fuck-“ 

“And I’m awake,” she’d respond, voice gravelly and thick, but focused as she’d pull on clothes, and you heard the rustle. Your voice would drop into a secretive whisper, still too loud to be actually effective, “Natty, Natty- are you…naked-??” 

“No,” Natasha would be grabbing her motorcycle keys and jacket now, slung loose over one shoulder before you heard the sound of her door, and seconds later the ignition of some vehicle. “I’m coming to get you, Agent. Gimme a landmark-“ 

“There’s a Mc…a Burger King, next to me, mm-“ Your mumble about being hungry was lost on her as Natasha’s tires would squeal across the road, its emptiness allowing her to climb speed quickly. Her voice was closer now, spoken through her helmet’s microphone, “Stay put, I’m on my way.” 

------------------------------------------

“He was… was callin’ me ugly-“ you slur, a blush alighting your cheeks. You’d hiccup, earning a chuckle from Natasha’s focused expression on the road. She’d picked you up minutes ago, careful to drive slower with your arms slung sloppily around her waist. You’d been telling her something about a rude man at the bar, disgruntled by your refusal to ‘go home to his smelly apartment,’ as your mocking voice had put it, “On the inside, and- and the…..outside, mhm!”

Natasha would chuckle again, expecting the insult to roll off your drunken facade, but instead your shoulders shook against her back. Slowing to a crawl on the side of the road, she’d look back to see your face looking crumbled- gleaming with tears. You hiccup again and Natasha turned off the bike, trying to soothe you with an awkward hand around you. She’d pull your side against hers, helmet in the crook of her other elbow as she’d whisper to you, “Hey, hey Agent, it’s alright, shhh..” Natasha’s hand would’ve risen to your cheek, prickling goosebumps down your spine as her thumb would wipe your tears away. Your fingers would’ve risen to hers, taking her palm gently before placing a kiss on it. She’d shift her hand away and you’d meet her gaze- her mouth was open, and your eyes darted down to it. “Natty..” your eyebrows would furrow, pouting as she’d escape your touch, “Why won’t you kiss me, Natty?”

“Because you’re drunk,” She’d roll her shoulders and you’d watch with wonder as her muscles moved beneath thin fabric, Natasha’s coat now on you. You’d have to pick your jaw off the road once you were done. Her words would almost startle you, “And you don’t know what you’re doing, Agent. Why did you call me?” 

“I..” You’d begin, yet your words left you as soon as you started them. You could never think when she was around- distance was necessary for professionalism. You hoped liquid confidence would be enough to bridge the gap, and ask the attractive redhead for coffee tomorrow. You overdid it. You forgot what she even asked, “But I want- want you. Don’t you want me?” 

Your declaration made her smile, and you decided then that you wanted her to do that again. Needed her to. Natasha shook her head, and she thanked your drunken stupor for you not noticing the blush on her face. She’d turn around, donning her helmet again- her voice muffled now, “You’re drunk, Agent. Let’s talk about this tomorrow, alright?”

“Mhmm..” You’d settle, pulling yourself against her back. “So warm..” you’d murmur, crooning into her shoulder. You’d hear the woman snicker, before the bike underneath you thrummed to life. Maybe if that conversation went well, your thoughts sluggishly considered- she’d teach you how to ride it. If Natasha’s playful snicker at your words was any indication, your chance was pretty high.

~~~

[ghostfacd]

THE KING AND HIS QUEEN, — king george iii

pairing: king george iii x fem!queen!reader

summary: your new life of being queen has been quite a struggle adjusting to. thankfully, you have the perfect king to stand right by your side.

genre: royal!au, fluff, mentions of arranged marriage, reader said to be a princess from france but ethnicity is not specified, plot kind of differs from queen charlotte: a bridgeton story, talk of wanting children

author’s note: the plot is different from that of the netflix series so don’t come at me ! wanted to write for george because his character is very intriguing to me and also bc the actor for young george is so mighty fine 😋😋 enjoy!

“Are you alright?” The king asked you. His face examined yours, locking his eyes onto your frame.

“Yes my king,” you say, staring down at your plate with a forced smile. In all truths, you were not alright. You had just wedded the week before, and the life of a queen was taking much more of a toll on you than you’d expect.

You remembered like it was just yesterday. Well, technically, it was. It was barely a week ago.

“Will Her Royal Highness, Princess of France, take His Majesty, The King as husband, from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part; according to God's holy law?”

“I, Princess of France, in the presence of God make this vow, from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part; according to God's holy law.”

“Very well, you may kiss the bride.”

And just like that, you were proclaimed Queen of Great Britain and Ireland.

“You’re spacing out,” George inquires, face filled with concern. You almost wonder why he cares. The two of you were not inlove. The marriage had been an arranged deal between your father and his since the day you were both born. Your fate had been sealed as soon as you came out your mother’s womb.

“Leave us.” He motions to the guards standing. They obey him like robots, leaving at his command. Now, it was just the two of you alone.

“YN,” for the first time since the two of you met, he had said your first name. No ‘my queen’ but just YN.

“Yes, my king?”

“Please, just George.”

You sigh, finally deciding to look him in the eyes. “Very well. George?”

“You know you can always tell me what is wrong, right?” He looks almost saddened. Or was it pity? You didn’t know him very well—the two of you rarely communicating since the marriage had been finalized.

“Of course my king,”

“George.” He corrects.

“Apologies, it was out of habit.”

He stands up, motioning you to come over to him. With raised eyebrows, you do as he wants, your long gown flowing onto the marble floor beautifully.

“Come with me,” he says, taking your hands into his. “To our chambers.”

You flush up at the feeling of George’s hands holding yours. You hadn’t had a boyfriend before marrying him, your father being very keen on keeping yourself innocent and pure for the King of Great Britain.

When you two arrive at the large tall entrance of the chamber, George waves off the two guards standing in front.

“Marital duties?” One of the dukes asked. “Great job Georgie, knew you had it in ‘ya.”

The King rolls his eyes at this, though he makes sure the duke hadn’t caught it. When you’re both inside the chamber, George finally lets out a breath of relief, situating himself onto the large mattress.

It was even larger than yours back at your palace in France. It was meant for the King and Queen, you and George, to sleep in at night and perform your marital duties.

“Sit, please.” George says, patting the empty space next to him. You sit down awkwardly, not sure where to look.

“Listen, I know it’s hard,” George lifts up your chin with his finger. “Adjusting to your life as my queen. The Queen of Great Britain and Ireland. But I assure you, as long as I live, I will make sure nobody will ever lay their hands on you or our future children, and that I will provide you with my love and support as I do with our country.”

Your eyes softened at his mini speech towards you, and your heart fluttered with joy. You were scared the two of you would end up in a loveless marriage like your Father and Mother had been—only together to provide the next heir of France. The heir ended up being your brother, your parent’s firstborn, King Charles of France. Second in throne was your other brother, Prince Louis, the spare. The only reason your parents had you was because your father had wanted a daughter to spoil, not because they were “inlove”. God no.

“Thank you my king. I appreciate this greatly, you have no idea. The stress of being Queen has taken quite the toll on me, and I was afraid of confiding in you about my worries.”

“You have no reason to be afraid,” George takes your hand, placing a soft kiss on it. “You are my wife, and I am your husband. You should never be afraid to confide in me. We promised that only death can do us part, and that we will love each other in sickness and suffering.”

“You are right my king,” you say, placing a peck on his cheek. For the first time, you were making a move, not him.

The two of you stay in each other’s embrace for the next hour, a comfortable and comforting silence fulfilling you both.

For the first time since you’ve step foot into Britain, you felt safe and loved. Loved by the King himself.

“You mentioned protecting me and our future children?” You tease him as you pull away. He bashfully looks down, letting out a small embarrassed laugh.

“Yes, my queen. The future heir, our lineage.”

“I hope it’s a boy,” you blurt out. You wanted your firstborn to be a boy because you’ve always seen your big brothers as a clear example of well raised princes, and you wanted the same for your future children.

“A boy would be ideal,” George says, pulling you close to him, “but I wouldn’t mind a girl. Spoil her rotten and braid her hair.”

You laugh, nodding along with George’s words. “I suppose a girl wouldn’t be so bad. As long as our future baby will be healthy.”

“Yes.”

The next few hours are spent with you and George mapping out the future, forgetting all your responsibilities for just the moment. George wanted Edward for a boy and Marionette for a girl, Nette for short. He expressed to you how he always dreamed of a normal life, farming and doing astronomy. However, he was grateful for growing up in royalty, never surrounded by poverty.

And just like that, the night you and George connected had flew by and you were expecting your second child in a few weeks time.

“Edward!” You say, giggling at the boy running around your legs. Edward was five, and quite the rowdy one. He took after his father’s handsomeness and had the eyes of George, the same ones that had looked at you with concern 6 years prior on that fateful night.

“Mummy!” Edward shrieks in delight. His eyes brighten when he sees his Father, who picks him up in an instant.

“I hope you’re not giving mummy a hard time,” George says, booping the young prince’s nose. “Are you, Prince Edward of Wales?”

“Course not daddy!” Edward scrambles to be let down on the ground, making George grunt as he sets the boy down. “Just wanted to hang out with mummy, that’s all.”

“Yes, my handsome little prince was doing no harm dear,” you reassure your husband. He rubs your baby bump softly, admiring your beauty.

“Just worried about you and Marionette is all,” he says with a soft smile.

“Me and Nette are fine,” you say, “now Edward, would you like me to tell you the day I became Queen?”

“Yes mummy!” Edward grins excitedly.

George can’t help but admire his little family as you told the story to your son Edward, brushing small strands of his brunette hair out of his face. In a few weeks, little Marionette will be arriving, and he couldn’t wait.

He wouldn’t trade what he had now for anything, not even for the whole wide world.

[frillsand]

What inspired you to create the actor Wally? Was it in a person or character?

I'm sorry if this question has already been asked, by the way he's incredible, a big hug for him🫂🎀

Hmm, I had to think back to late March for this.

I don’t know what I was thinking then but I knew I wanted him to have the same personality as Darla Dimple for entertainment reasons

I thought the idea of Wally secretly being a harsh person very interesting, something his character obviously doesn’t do.

I wanted somebody condescending while still being capable of caring for those close to him

Wally unapologetically makes himself a priority because you can’t help anyone if you can’t help yourself and putting yourself first doesn’t make you selfish.

His character is supposed to be evil and self preserving but thats hard to do when his life goal was to entertain and educate children and live comfortably with his friends forever. I made him with the intent of making people dislike him, but obviously it only worked a bit

I don’t know, I just wanted see his character put himself first and how people can change with each experience of life, for better or for worse.

A lot of his character was made as I kept going and I tried to accomplish some world building, of course, to but writing has never been my thing. The reason this au was started, was to satisfy my need for character analysis, only because I loved the characters so much but we hardly knew anything about them.

I don’t know where I’m going with this byeee

[welcometomyoasis]

Seventeen's reaction to their 14th member being female

Synopsis: when it is announced that seventeen will have a 14th member who is female, what would the seventeen members’ reactions be like.  Svt x platonic fem! reader | idol au, fluff, angst | 2.2k words| warnings: hate comments, periods, mention of physical attacks, food, unconsented photographs | requested by anon A/n: I had a great time writing this request so thank you anon! I hope you like it!

✧₊⁺ Seungcheol

Leader mode activated. His first thought is “what is the company thinking? Are they crazy?” As the leader, he will try to make sure you are as comfortable in the group as possible but there are always going to be things out of his control. He’s worried about what the fans would think, how well you will fit into the group as the sole female member, whether the group dynamics would change, whether you would need extra security, etc. Yea, to say he is worried and hesitant, that would be an understatement. He works himself up to the point where you feel bad and offer to leave the company if your addition is going to be a burden. But Seungcheol insists that it’s okay, and that he’s just taking his responsibilities as leader very seriously to ensure that everyone is adjusting well. He’s apologetic that he can’t spend as much time with you because of his duties, though he reassures you that the rest of the members will take good care of you. He raised them well. So don’t worry okay? He’s not called the alpha leader for nothing. 

✧₊⁺ Jeonghan 

Vice leader mode activated. While Seungcheol begins to fret over having to keep the peace between the members, the company, and the fans, Jeonghan takes on the responsibility of getting you settled into the group. Afterall, he’s the group’s pillar of emotional support. He’s giving you tours of the practice room, introducing you to the staff members they work with, talking you through their quirks, and schedules. He knows that it’s a losing battle to try and fight against your addition to the group. So, why not make the best of the situation? He’s going to tell you to come to him for anything regardless of the time. He will do everything in his power to make sure you feel welcomed. He might not be the member who is the most visibly protective of you, but you can bet that behind the scenes, he’s keeping a close eye on the situation. Everyone better treat you well. They will have hell to pay if they don’t. 

✧₊⁺ Joshua

Protective gentleman mode activated. Joshua already is the perfect gentleman with the rest of the members (especially when they are on camera). But when the news comes that you’re going to be added to the group, his gentleman-like nature multiples 10 fold. He welcomes you readily, while he might not be physically with you all the time, you know that he’s keeping one eye out for you. He’s always handing you blankets or his jacket to cover your legs/ shoulders. He passes you the water bottle first before opening another one for himself. He’s protecting you from door handles even if there’s no danger there. He walks behind you so no one can take weird photographs of your behind. During that time of the month, he’s especially attentive to you, making sure you don’t overstrain yourself and that you’re eating well. No one questions him when he whips out medication or extra feminine products for you in the situation where you run out. 

✧₊⁺ Junhui

Inquisitive cat mode activated. A new member is interesting. The dynamics of the group will change, especially in this case because you’re a female. Junhui is generally more shy with new people at first, but once he warms up to you and gets used to having you around, he’s going to be asking you a ton of questions. He wants to get to know you, as a member, a fellow performer, and as a friend. What are your hobbies? Yes he knows your position in the group but do you like rapping, singing or dancing more? Are you an actor? He really really wants to know all the details like how did you get yourself into this mess that is joining seventeen? He’s interested in all of your performance outfits too. He probably tries it on at some point and accidentally ruins the seams and stitches. You’re going to laugh at him getting scolded while your outfit is getting mended. 

✧₊⁺ Soonyoung

Excited tiger mode activated. Besides being mildly worried about needing to alter all the formations for choreography, Soonyoung wouldn’t really care about having a female member added to seventeen. To him, it’s a refreshing change in the world of kpop where male female friendships are usually treated as a taboo subject. He’ll be extremely proud that seventeen would be the pioneers in adding a female member to the group and one of the only co-ed groups in the industry. He’s also so creative when it comes to the choreography that he will be interested to blend more feminine moves into the dances. It’s not only so that you will have time to shine, but also to switch up the dances a little. Dance is art. Who cares about whether the dance is supposed to be more masculine or feminine. He’s going to shake what he has been blessed with as much as he wants. You are going to be the insufferable duo doing all the dance challenges together.  

✧₊⁺ Wonwoo

Shy black cat mode activated. Out of all the members, I would say that Wonwoo has the hardest time adjusting to you joining the group. It’s mostly due to his own introverted nature. He just takes a while to really warm up to new people, and what’s more, as a member, you will now spend a significant amount of time with them. He’ll feel a little awkward at the change in dynamic because it’s like a destabilising force to a place he felt so safe and comfortable in. He’ll keep his distance at first until he’s ready to approach you. Once he does, it’s like there was never that barrier between you in the first place. Wonwoo is such a thoughtful, observant person that although he wasn’t interacting with you, he was still picking up on all your habits and quirks. He’ll blend into your routine pretty quickly, offering you water and snacks whenever he thinks you’re getting tired or hungry. His intellect is also admirable and his way of dealing with issues or articulating things helps you a lot when you’re feeling stressed but aren’t able to verbalise it properly. In the end, he’s one of your comfort people. 

✧₊⁺ Woozi

Creative mode activated. As seventeen’s producer, and also as a leader of seventeen, he does share some of the worries that Seungcheol has. It’s a big change and there will have to be a long period of adjustment. Still, the creative part of him is just buzzing to get going. A female member changes a lot of things when it comes to the songs he can produce. He’ll volunteer to be your vocal trainer, helping you to get used to seventeen’s previous songs and also just to get a feel of your strengths and weaknesses. It turns out that he loves the contrast between your voice and the deeper voices of the rest of the members. Your voice adds more colour and flavour into the songs. He likes experimenting to see which members’ voices complement yours the best, and he absolutely loves the fact that you can help him record more demos so he can see the differences in the vibes of the same song. He ends up hogging you for help so much that the rest of the members have to forcefully drag you away from his studio. 

✧₊⁺ Dokyeom

Shadow mode activated. He’s a ball of sunshine but Dokyeom practically becomes your shadow once you are introduced. He’s following you everywhere like a lost puppy. He can’t help it, he’s just so excited and happy to have a new member in seventeen. Not going to lie, you were a little weirded out at how he was sticking to you in the beginning, but his enthusiasm is contagious. You’re soon running around together like two gremlins screaming and making jokes in between practice as the rest of the members shake their heads and watch you both adoringly. Both of you might end up as your own comedy duo. The Dokyeom-Y/n pair soon becomes the most popular grouping during gose. For some reason, you two crackheads make everything seem more fun which helps to lighten the spirits of the whole group. 

✧₊⁺ Minghao

Protective, no nonsense mode activated. When you first join the group, Minghao is probably one of the members that you feel intimidated by, though you’re able to warm up to each other soon enough. He’s stern but patient with you during dance practice. You appreciate his honesty and how he approaches teaching you the dances. Of course, Minghao is known for his no nonsense attitude when it comes to the line between idols and their fans. If there is one thing Minghao can’t stand, it’s how ridiculous some fans are when it comes to their delusions. Idols are humans too. Words can hurt. They can physically get hurt. Minghao holds that line firmly when he encounters anyone who throws hate or threatens physical harm at you for being the only female member. He won’t hesitate to lecture them and put them in their place. He’ll actually be even more blunt than before. You’re his friend and his fellow seventeen member. He’s not going to sit idly and let you get insulted. 

✧₊⁺ Mingyu

Overprotective brother mode activated. You can bet that this hyper puppy is just bouncing on his feet in excitement when you’re introduced to the group. As soon as introductions are out of the way, he appoints himself as your overprotective brother (regardless of your age). He’s soon sticking by your side during dance practice, vocal practice, and especially during the times when you’re both out in public. His happy-go-lucky nature makes it easy to get close to him. He’s also so protective over you that the guards don’t even have a job anymore. He’s not the most observant person but he’s so physically large that he’s become your personal bodyguard. He’s ready to step in as soon as he sees anything remotely dangerous come your way (even if it’s just Soonyoung running towards you). Besides that, he because you’re so close to him, he becomes your shoulder to cry on when you’re feeling down, overwhelmed by idol life and all the hate that comes with it. At some point, be prepared to be adopted by the entire 97’ line and all their extended friends.  

✧₊⁺ Seungkwan

Jeju hospitality mode activated. Boy is born to be a host and a tv star. Add that to his welcoming, warm, open personality, and he becomes a perfect guide for you. He takes it upon himself to try to explain every little detail about settling in with seventeen to you (though he just sulks when you smile sheepishly at him because Jeonghan already told you what he was trying to say). Still, you’re thankful for his efforts. Of course the rest of the members will never make fun of you for asking too many questions or wanting to reconfirm anything, but Seungkwan doesn’t hesitate to take the first step to ask you if you need any help. He senses when you’re struggling and will offer you help even before you need to open your mouth to ask. He’s probably one of the reasons why you were able to adjust to the group as quickly as you did. 

✧₊⁺ Vernon

Nonchalant mode activated. Honestly? He has his reservations, but that is to be expected with any big changes that happen to an idol group. There’s no reason to freak out over it especially since it’s been mandated by the company. He knows he can’t change anything so his way of dealing with it is simply just to accept the change, and you into the group. He takes the changes within his stride, making an effort to get to know you well. The more things he knows about you, the easier it is to work with you. It will be like back during the trainee days when male and female trainees sometimes worked together. His accepting attitude is welcoming and you’ll find yourself becoming fast friends with Vernon, with him becoming a close confidant for you because he never freaks out excessively in any situation. 

✧₊⁺ Dino 

Partner in crime mode activated. Dino is well loved although he is often the target of the rest of the members’ mischief. He always swears he is going to get back at the rest of the members for teasing him one day. But with you around? The only female member? He just knows that you’re going to be the best partner in crime. He will probably take on the responsibility of getting you acquainted with all their dances and the dance formations. While you’re at it, there’s nothing to say you can’t have a little fun. You’re both definitely going to be able to bond over the rest of the members’ insufferable teasings. Plus, when you both prank the rest of the members, you can use each other as an alibi. No one is ever going to blame the innocent maknae and the innocent female member. Right? 

taglist: @weird-bookworm @wonijinjin @babyleostuff @wishing-fieshes @kwanienies @mayashu @megseungmin @porridgesblog @haecien @mirxzii @scoupsofcherries @eightlightstar @brownsugarbaybee @zaggprincess2 @nonononranghaee

[saerotonins]

actor!kento headcanons

ft. nanami kento x reader

content warnings: fluff, general actor headcanons, implied nanami x reader

wc: 749

note: i really have fun doing this, let me know if you guys want more for other characters! 🫶🏻

jjk actor au masterlist

 as an actor:

i feel like he would be more humorous and laid back than his character

usually the one who starts teasing his closest castmates (probably haibara and gojo)

treats the 1st and 2nd year casts as his kids

especially the twins, yuuji and sukuna

acts like a father figure to them on set and takes care of them whenever they had a very exhausting scene to film (like fight scenes and such)

he's also the one who breaks the twins up whenever they have playful banter with each other

puts up with gojo more outside their characters and is actually tolerating his antics on set 

will sometimes have a giggle fit whenever someone makes a light mistake during filming like voice cracks and stumbling during fight scenes

believe it or not, he's really the type to join gojo and geto in creating light pranks to the other casts

when a scene needs to be filmed before the sun even goes up, he pulls up to the shoot with coffee and the casts' (even the crew!) favorite drinks

knows their coffee and drink orders BY HEART

the producers love him because he's such a sweetheart

whenever he smiles (an example is during that mahito scene where he was trapped in his domain expansion and in the restaurant with ino), the crew is literally the definition of "got me kicking my feet, giggling, and twirling my hair" LOL literally big fans of him

speaking of mahito, people are surprised to know that they're very good friends and actually went to the same middle school

he is usually the one that he practices his lines with aside from his spouse

he CANNOT for the life of him practice his lines with gojo and geto alone because they will have a giggle fit every time 😭 they can't take it seriously pls

also shares his bentos made by you to his co-stars which they really REALLY love

he also takes his physic very very seriously and works out on a daily basis but it doesn't mean he won't enjoy a good cheat meal (which is also very often because whenever filming gets busy, they resort to take outs) hence he compensates by working out more

gojo really likes to touch and squish his biceps from time to time istg this man

believe it or not, he has an instagram, but his face is barely posted unless it's a promotion or magazine shoot

most of his posts includes foods, behind the scenes of some shoots, and his spouse, you

fans are raving and gushing about it

he also has highlights that are just food, travels, behind the scenes on the shows he is in

as a husband: 

unlike his character, he stays to work overtime most of the time (not that he wants to, it's just he NEEDS to) which you understood head on before you married him and before his stardom 

you usually prepare his bentos before he goes to work 

which is most the time also appreciated by his workmates so you make more portions to satisfy their stomachs as well

but whenever his hectic schedule and yours clash that you don't have the time to prepare him one, he settles with takeouts and convenient store foods which is enough to fill him up but it just does not hit the same :((

he practices his lines with you as a form pf quality time, his schedule is so packed that he takes every single free moment with you as a bonding experience

but sometimes he doesn't because he hates giving you spoilers and wants his scenes to be a surprise for you (*wink wink* hair grab scene *wink wink*)

the kids, the 1st and 2nd year casts (and maybe even gojo), goes to your shared home to crash if they're too tired to go home from the shooting site if your house is the closest

the 1st year trio, especially yuuji, goes by your home often whenever he gets easily bored 

even though you're not the part of the crew, for how often they go to your home, you also treat them as your kids (yes, including gojo)

whenever they're around, it's always so loud and lively but both you and nanami are not complaining 

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

never not mine | jjk | "i hear..."

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

Bygones will be bygone eras, fading into grey. Breaking up with Jeon Jungkook had been a vicious, clean break. He tried to take it back, but the damage was already done. You walked out of the world you didn't belong in, at least until Kim Taehyung calls your name.

this is part i | part ii | part iii

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of controlling behaviors in a romantic relationship; reader is emotionally distant after said breakup; second chance romance?; angst and fluff and feels; your POV

non-idol!AU; fashion model!Jungkook — ft fellow model/actor!Kim Taehyung and model/businessman!Kim Seokjin; and a certain Maestro cameo; reader is not part of the entertainment industry

--

“Please love me again.”

You could hear him saying it but you pretended not to hear. You pretended not to know. You pretended he wasn’t there. He was persona non grata. No, he was simply another blurry face amongst many that faded into the grey background of grey days. He was only a ghost. If he happened to be in the same place as you were, it wasn’t any of your damn business. People were allowed to be wherever they wanted to be.

“I’m sorry.”

Yes, he was.

Sorry that he couldn’t walk all over you like he wanted. Sorry that he couldn’t control you on that leash like he wanted. Sorry that you had the balls to cut all ties and not put up with his selfish bullshit anymore. Sorry. What a word. Your response had not been a vindictive one, though. You hadn’t blocked him on social media. You figured he would block you himself. The last moments were him berating you for being late, what if something happened to you, I was worried, and you snapping. It had taken every fiber of your being to not fling your clutch in his face and tell him to take himself out if he cared so much.

“I understand what you meant now.”

The first couple times he attempted to speak to you after it all, you were ice-cold furious. So angry that you simply refused to speak to avoid spitting literal fire. So, you didn’t. And then it became a habit. Then you stopped caring. You stopped feeling. You lived your life.

Alone.

Like an abandoned puppy, Jeon Jungkook followed you every chance he got, but there were less and less chances as time went on. You would walk past him. He would follow until it was definitely too creepy and simply stop, staring after you with a lost look in his empty eyes. Everyone could see the broken heart in his stare.

A lot of people asked you what happened.

It was a valid question.

It was just as valid for you to not answer.

“I’m not going to talk about that. We can talk about something else.”

You avoided people who couldn’t let it go or cut them out altogether. What was the point of shit-talking, taking sides, making yourself angry over things that couldn’t be changed? What was the point of being upset over nights that couldn’t be taken back? Over phone calls and you sitting alone in a restaurant, empty chair in front of you and the reason in your hand, an opportunity came up, I’m leaving for Los Angeles in the morning, I need to pack, bye. Over trips suddenly cut short in the middle, the agency called, another model got sick last minute so I gotta go, just stay here and have fun. By yourself. Over accusations, what are you doing right now, send a photo, now. Over doubts, are you really at the supermarket, I don’t know, you could be doing anything, I’m not there after all. Over being five minutes late because the taxi you had taken was driven by an older gentleman chatting away, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him to shut up simply because of a boy.

Five minutes.

“Where were you? You need to tell me if you’re late. What if something happened? I was worried.”

“The driver was talking to me.”

“And you couldn’t text that you were okay?”

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“Am I not your priority?” he had hissed.

Snap.

All those times, all those moments, okay, I understand, it’s fine, you can make it up to me later, they all came back to you in vivid recollections, and you had stared at Jeon Jungkook. All those people saying how lucky you must be having such a good-looking guy, an actual fashion model, must be so nice, and you only said nice things about him because it didn’t occur to you to complain, no, it would be silly to complain about someone you loved. That was part of loving someone, wasn’t it, being in love was putting up with these things and believing in their words. All those instances, prove what you’re doing, send a photo. Now. All that shit got you to this moment right here, right now, under this furious scrutiny, his dark brows furrowed, his pretty mouth twisted in a frown, his question ringing in your ears.

His accusation in which he had already deemed you guilty.

“The fuck you say to me?” you had growled softly.

Never once did you ask him what he was doing in the destination that he was at. Never once did you fault him for going out and having fun. Never once did you say anything about the multiple social posts of beaches and hotels and nightclubs and everyone scantily-clad, his arms around fellow models, pressed up against fabulous guys and glamorous girls. If he didn’t answer you for a couple days, you assumed it was due to long shoot days and combined jetlag making him crash. The very answer he gave you the first time you asked. You believed him then. There was no need to ask for confirmation over and over if you trusted him. And you did trust him.

Now, this.

“I was five minutes late. If I thought I would be later, I would have texted you,” you explained with emotionless calm. “At least I showed up. At least I didn’t make you sit down in the restaurant, wait around for an hour only to get a text that you aren’t coming. Not even a phone call anymore.”

You hadn’t raised your voice.

He had looked taken aback.

“But… I thought you would understand.”

“Of course, I understand.” The seething anger was white-hot but your tone was crystal-clear cold. “I can understand, as long as you show me some grace and appreciation for not losing my shit every time it happens. Am I not your priority? When have I ever been yours?”

He tried to answer quickly. “You’re always–”

But you were already pulling up the rideshare app, calling another car to come pick you up. “Am I? Then why accuse me the second I get out of the car? Where was I? In the taxi. You saw me get out of it. Why are you holding five minutes over my head like a death sentence, as if I surely betrayed you in those extra five minutes? If it’s you it could be five, thirty, hours, but I have to understand you are networking. I have to understand you are being personable. I have to understand that you are practicing being friendly because it doesn’t come naturally to you.”

Jungkook simply gawked at you, wide-eyed.

You narrowed your eyes, creating a distance he could no longer cross.

“Am I just here so you have someone to visit when you’re bored? Someone to fuck?”

Maybe the vulgarity was taking it too far. Maybe saying all of this in public right now was in poor taste. His jarring question rang in your head. Am I not your priority? Maybe you were wrong to say it all now, but it was the way he said it, as if your love for him had become invalid once you were five minutes late to the appointed time for this date that you didn’t know whether or not he would abandon you in the middle of or take you home and rock your world – and you realized you didn’t care what the outcome was.

You just didn’t give a fuck anymore.

There were so many things he could have done. He could break up with you if his career was more important. He could say sorry more. He could find ways to make it up to you. He could, but he didn’t, and you understood. But this. This you could not understand. This he could not do.

No.

This you would not let him do.

If this was innocent concern, he made it worse by coming off as suffocating and hovering. Now, you realized that no excuse would have been good enough to convince him otherwise. He had already made up his mind to attack you the second you walked out of that car, delivering in the fatal blow instantly. All those moments. All those times had become hair-thin cracks, marring the bond between you and him, tiny little slices to kill the relationship and your will to be in it.

“I don’t think…”

He trailed off, not completing his thought.

The car pulled up.

This was surely the meaning of quiet treason.

“No, you don’t,” you had finished for him with icy agreement. “You expect. You expect me to be here and hold your hand when you want it, and now I know you will never ask me if I ever need my hand held.”

You had stepped away from the curb, not once raising your voice, no longer looking at him, your knuckles digging into your beaded black clutch. You expected it to hurt at least a little.

It was nothing compared to this death by a thousand cuts.

“W-Wait!”

You didn’t.

You had opened the car door and closed it quickly. The driver  requested you to confirm your name. You tersely nodded. They didn’t ask any further questions even as you witnessed Jungkook’s shocked face in the side mirror as the vehicle drove away. You didn’t look back. You didn’t even cry. Maybe you should have given him a chance to say something. A chance to change.

Except you had.

This wasn’t the first time that you had this conversation, although the first time was you sitting him down and saying, hey, if you’re not sure about your schedule, let’s not arrange any dates around those days. We can go out when things settle down. The answer was agreement and all was well for a couple weeks. And then it would happen again. And then you would bring it up again. Whoops. And again.Then he would ask you what you were doing when he wasn’t there. Oh, really? Send pictures.You asking, this is a bit much, isn’t it? The answer being, I want to know you’re safe. You finally admitting that it drove you a bit crazy. Him laughing and saying he was a bit of a handful, brushing away your concerns in light of his own.

Five minutes.

Am I not your priority?

The anger had nowhere to go.

Like how summer turned into fall and then into winter, the anger grew cold and dense and concentrated. A stone. Then one day you turned it over and found nothing underneath. You stopped caring. On one hand, you could have been the bigger person and reached out. On another hand, you didn’t see the reason in wasting any more time. What good was closure? What good would it do, talking it out and getting the same result? Deserve this, deserve that. Fair or not, at the end of the day, it didn’t work and there was no forcing something if neither party wanted to really try. I understand, until you couldn’t anymore.

Now.

Now, you would sit alone at restaurants and not be disappointed.

Table for one, yes, thank you.

Now you would spend hours at the games store and no one would be asking you to take pictures and prove that you were there. He used to play video games too, but he gradually fell out of them. Busy. Felt like he couldn’t keep up. Sold his PC because he was never home.

Emptiness where he had once enjoyed spending that time with you.

You would stay at the music store for a long time, looking over albums and wondering if you should buy them. It had been such a long time. You never listened to CDs anymore although you had been obsessed with music as a kid. The past felt like a different time. Memories of a clunky CD player and wired headphones with the metal arch over your head and those spongey earcups. Now you had wireless earbuds and a phone. Still, you looked over the colorful albums and wondered if you should get one, just to have it or maybe even put it on display. He used to listen to a lot of music too. Probably still did, on planes and in cars. He used to share your taste.

Now you didn’t have to share anything.

You stuck with your favorites, still, for years. It was an ever-growing list of popular artists as well as lesser-known indie artists that you never forgot. You made sure to listen to the top hits as well since those songs were popular for a reason. The occasional earworm could lead you down a pleasant rabbit hole, too.

You picked up an album of a band you liked but had never owned and went home.

Got that dopamine unboxing it and smiling at the photocards. Looked through the extras with the album on repeat playing through your Bluetooth speaker. You didn’t do these kinds of things in front of Jungkook usually. You had always prioritized engaging with him. Listening to his stories, looking at the photos of places he had been, shaking your head at the long hours or difficult call times. Every moment precious because you would never know when it would be cut short.

You had made everything about him when in his presence.

You hadn’t blasted the relationship all over social media although it was obvious. For the most part, people had been respectful. You hadn’t deleted all the photos he was in, the photos he had taken of you, nor had you blocked him. People asked. You repeated the same thing over and over. I’m not going to talk about that. We can talk about something else. People eventually stopped asking. Old news was old news. There was no visible resentment, and so the interest died out.

You caught Jungkook looking at you from across the concessions stand at the movie theater.

Those big dark brown eyes filled with rueful invitation.

You didn’t know what movie he was going into, but you turned away and didn’t think about it much.

Watched the movie you paid for, alone.

Went home.

Alone.

You used to watch movies twice. Once by yourself when it released, then a second time when Jungkook could make it. When he could. Sometimes he couldn’t and the movie was already out of theaters. Then you both would watch it at home when it released on streaming services. It was what it was. You enjoyed movies. You had the time and money to watch them twice. But now you didn’t have to.

That was nice.

You weren’t sure if Jungkook was deliberately going places that you often frequented or if it was coincidence. It was likely the latter, because he usually wasn’t alone. He had a group of friends that lived in this area and often came to visit them. He used to joke that it must have been fate for you to meet as your friend circles didn’t overlap. At least he had not shown up to the video games store or the music store you usually went to, so you didn’t feel threatened in any way. Maybe he was visiting his friends more because he was sad. Maybe he was visiting them more in hopes of seeing you, the same tactic he used when he first asked you out. Maybe it was both.

It was probably both.

Sometimes you would cry in frustration.

Sometimes you would play games to distract yourself.

Sometimes you didn’t mind too much as the days passed. Sometimes you would look outside and admire the sun. Sometimes it would rain and that was nice too. Sometimes you were sad but it wasn’t a negative feeling. Such was the natural course. Sadness was the promise of happiness to come, because one couldn’t exist without the other.

At least, you believed so.

Ther wasn’t much more you could do than that.

For a bit there you had almost thought the relationship hadn’t mattered because you had walked away so coldly. In some ways, you wished you could take it back. In other ways, you didn’t. It was hard to discount years of your life simply because of how the chapter ended. There had definitely been unique experiences that you were unlikely to relive. You used to attend lavish parties with Jungkook, especially many around the holidays. You would dress up in your best and put on a brave face. A lovely dress, the high heels he brought you, carefully done makeup and hair. Jungkook would walk in with you gliding beside him, silently holding his arm. People would tell you how fun it was working with him and how lucky he was to have such a pretty and understanding lady. These were all work events full of unfamiliar faces. Jungkook used to be reserved and hang out with you in corners but, as he got more popular, more people roped him into conversations, remember this, and he would slip in with his friends, naturally, laughing and smiling. You would wait nearby, at yet another party surrounded by better bodies, and somehow he would find you at the end of the night, ask you if you had fun.

And you would smile and assure him.

“Something like that.”

The best parties were the ones thrown by his friend Kim Taehyung. He had been in the entertainment industry for a long time, becoming Jungkook’s friend though their crossed paths in modeling. He had an affliction for celebration and Jungkook was always invited, which meant you, too, bore witness to many magnificent events hosted by him. The most extravagant were his own birthday parties. Quite so, as the date was after Christmas, and he continued the festive mood. Taehyung loved a theme. He would rent specific venues, arrange for live music, impose a dress code, everything. One year, he flew everyone out to Paris and rented an entire restaurant to celebrate. Even if you barely knew anyone there, it was fun being in a different world created by Taehyung’s magical vision. Everyone was thrown into it together, experiencing the vibes of an old American jazz club, the white beaches with glass waters during Christmastime, or a playful night filled with Taehyung’s favorite childhood games and sweet treats, complete with food stalls from the area of Daegu he grew up in.

You didn’t fit in, but no one did because these were all Taehyung’s fantasies brought to life.

He always sent the invitations by physical mail, on stunning stationery to match the theme. Someone else must have created them, but seemingly Taehyung approved them all as every single one contained his unique flourishing signature. You kept them in a box. They were too pretty to throw away.

You had received an invitation this year too, to a midnight masquerade ball, but you didn’t go.

Perhaps he didn’t know yet. Or, perhaps he did know and Jungkook asked him to invite you. They were quite close. If there was a plan, you didn’t take the bait. The date came and went. Maybe Taehyung considered you a friend, but that was probably a stretch. Jungkook didn’t like you talking to Taehyung too much.

Apparently, you made him smile too big.

Or something.

Taehyung had an entire party to get to every time you met him, anyway. You would have to shoo him off because there was very little night and Taehyung wanted to speak to every guest one-on-one. He was sincere like that. He was romantic like that. He was dark and handsome and in his own head, in his constant dream of living his wonderful life that, from what you could discern, he deserved. He even always remembered to ask the staff working at his party to eat cake with them. At the end of the night, Taehyung would pick up the microphone and thank the guests for coming and thank the staff for working hard to provide everyone with a good time. Taehyung always remembered to say thank you and he always made sure to express his gratitude to everyone, no matter their status.

You missed being at his party, a little bit, if only just to witness a fairy-tale in real life.

But you weren’t part of Jeon Jungkook’s world anymore.

And so you missed the party.

Please love me again.

On quiet, grey days, you realized how very boring your life was. On quiet, grey days, you were tempted to think about the good times. About his laugh, about his starry eyes when you came into view, about enchanted nights where you would both make magic between bodies. On quiet, grey days, you were tempted to pick out all his flaws until the memories were burned, images stricken with ash, never to be the same again. On quiet, grey days, you had every chance to run back or run away, at least in your head, but instead you lived your very boring life doing neither of those choices.

Whether you loved him or hated him, the result would still be the same.

You entered the artisan tea shop and greeted the staff. You talked about how your father was into tea, chatted about what would make a good gift. The prices of the sets. The amount of loose-leaf tea and how many cups it would make. The various flavors and strength. You smelled a bunch of different ones. Rejected some, remained indecisive about others, accepted a few as contenders.

You heard the bell by the door chime again, musical and clear.

A male’s voice, deep and polite.

You tensed. Your body knew before your mind caught up. You pointed to several flavors you had liked, and the employee suggested a gift box sampler featuring a watercolor camellia-printed limited-edition teacup set that you agreed to readily, all the while vaguely aware of a tingling behind your neck and a vigilant tension forming in your lungs. But it wasn’t until your name was called that you turned around by instinct, and then froze with recognition. Dark brown eyes under graceful black-brown waves. Tan skin glimmering under the lights. The image completed by a three-piece chocolate brown suit paired with a ruffled warm gray dress shirt and sharp dark leather oxfords. The stylish man smiled widely, box-like, and walked towards you without hesitation.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Kim Taehyung must have known, and yet.

You bowed lightly. “Hello.”

The sales associate was immediately charmed by Taehyung’s deep voice and dashing appearance, their gloved hands hovering over the half-packed box and openly ogling the demandingly handsome gentleman that took your hand warmly before lightly kissing your knuckles. Straight out of a movie. Probably learned it from one, or from traveling in Europe. He let go after a lingering moment.

He had said your name with the same velvety warmth he had at all of his parties.

It had hurt, but it wasn’t his fault.

“How are you? I haven’t seen you in a while. Are you buying something?” He raised his head and daintily smiled at the employee before giving you his full attention again. “Let me pay for it.”

“No, ah,” you interrupted him quickly, handing over your card before Taehyung could reach into his heavily lined pockets. “No, sorry. I’m buying a gift for my father.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he apologized immediately, retracting his hands. “I meant to do something nice for you and I’ve overstepped.”

“It’s… It’s alright,” you chuckled softly, trying to dissipate the awkwardness. You turned slightly to sign the receipt, not looking at the price. Your card went back into your black leather bow purse. “You had no way of knowing. How are you? And your parents?”

Taehyung was still a little sheepish but he remained next to you at a respectful distance. “Me? I guess you could say I’m holding on. I think I might take a small break soon and spend a week with my family. How did you know I was thinking of them?” He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re a mind-reader.”

You shook your head with a smile, taking the beautifully wrapped bag and bowing in gratitude to the employee. “No, you’ve just never been a big tea drinker. It was only a guess.”

He scratched the back of his head and sighed lightheartedly. “Ah, you’re right. I wanted to buy a grown-up gift, but maybe I should have asked what they wanted. I don’t know the first thing about tea.”

You both began to walk towards the entrance.

“You’re their adorable child. They will love anything you gift them.”

Taehyung grinned. “So, you think I’m adorable?”

You opened your mouth and then.

Then you were suddenly hyperaware of the brightness of the lights in the tea store. Suddenly aware of all the customers around you milling about and chatting with their friends and the employees. Suddenly the scents of the store were too strong and too varied and suddenly a phantom grip on your arm from a time long past pulled you away from your center, into the past, and you remembered all the times you stood in a corner of a party, on the outskirts of alcohol, music, and magic, wondering why you were so, so alone.

You plastered a smile on your face and replied pleasantly.

“Of course, you are, Kim Taehyung.”

It lasted a second.

Maybe less.

Taehyung gazed at you with curious eyes.

You kept the smile on your face.

He stepped past you and opened the door, gesturing you to walk out before him in the most gentlemanly way, smiling with his eyes crinkling as they usually did when he laughed or was in his comfort zone. “Come. Let me at least treat you to lunch,” he insisted.

You accepted his graciousness and turned as you walked to face him as you spoke. “That’s really not necessary. I’m sure you’re very busy.”

He chuckled, the sound coming deep from his chest. “Of course, I’m busy, but I always have time for a friend.” He shrugged nonchalantly, grinning. “My manager expects this kind of behavior from me anyway.”

You paused, looking up at him. “Friend?”

Flutters of lashes and confusion in dark brown orbs.

“Are we not friends?”

People around you continued walking, giving you and Taehyung weird looks. He didn’t seem to notice, undeterred by the world around him that wasn’t currently in his focus, the main character at every moment in his life, oblivious to anyone trying to get under his skin with their judgements, never the accessory to someone else.

It turned out to be more difficult than you thought, saying the words.

“I… well… Don’t you know that Jeon Jungkook and I aren’t dating anymore?”

Taehyung tilted his head with childlike innocence.

“Um… so you don’t eat lunch anymore?”

You blinked at him.

“Huh?”

He gave you this look. You stared back. For a moment the disconnect was so tangible that you almost had a word for it. A zephyr ruffled Taehyung’s soft curls. The sun made his skin glow and his dark eyes sparkle. Small signs of Mother Nature affectionately acknowledging one of her children. He smiled. It was then that you realized this was a decision you could make. A decision of a lonely self, not a lonely self that was an extension of another. A yes or no that didn’t have to be polluted by the past.

“Well…”

Your hands tightened on the straps of the gift bag.

“If you’ll have me.”

Taehyung grinned. “I know just the spot! You’ll love it.”

-

It was nice lunch.

No, it was wonderful time.

You had been worried that you would be underdressed in your calf-length flowy black dress and chunky knit lavender cardigan, but you fit right in. Taehyung had picked a busy rooftop brunch spot. It was French-themed, or at least as French as Korea could get. There was a bit more wood than brass and crystals. It still made for a nice hideaway. It seemed Taehyung was well recognized here, and yet people maintained a distance regardless. It must have been his polite yet stern demeanor. When he sat down though, he seemed to relax, waving a hand and telling you to order whatever you liked.

You never could turn down good brioche.

You thought it would have been awkward, at least. It wasn’t. He talked about his work, asked about yours. Asked what you thought about this or that. Memories from past events, what you liked or didn’t like. What he paid too much for that nobody noticed, along with a hearty laugh, and moments he loved, such as having a group photo at every one of his events. You asked him if he enjoyed planning the events themselves. He confessed with a roughish smile that he had a planner for all those details. You thought it strange to spend so much money on such occasions, but there was something pure about it too. Besides, you ended up getting your answer.

���What’s the most important lesson in your life you’ve learned so far?” Taehyung abruptly asked, sitting up in alarm.

You blinked at his suddenness. “Uh… I don’t know. I would have to think about it.” Your lips upturned slightly, then you tilted your head and looked back at him. “What about you? What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned in your life so far?”

He relaxed back in his chair. His expression became pensive. You paused in mid-bite, seeing him look a bit sheepish.

“You’re not the first person to ask me about the parties,” Taehyung chuckled deep from his chest. “A lot of people tell me it’s a waste of money. And it is to other people, but it isn’t to me. The most important lesson I’ve ever learned was…”

He raised his head with a small smile.

“You can’t get time back.”

You remembered the extensive decor, the delicate hors d'oeuvres, even the various perfumes sprayed into the air complimenting the theme of each party. Exquisite and memorable details. Taehyung ticked his head, seemingly recalling it all too.

“I think I’ve mentioned this, but my grandmother was the closest maternal figure I had,” he explained, fondly smiling. “I’m close to my parents too, but they had to work a lot to give me a good life, so I spent a lot of time with my siblings and grandparents. My grandmother used to hold celebrations for the achievements I had, even if they were mediocre or not that impressive. Nothing extravagant, or anything. A little cake or my favorite sweets. She would sing for me and clap her hands. She would say, it’s my duty to give you good memories. As I got older, I became busy, of course, chasing dreams, and I didn’t make time for her small celebrations any more. I was just out of university when she passed away. I often think I hadn’t spent enough time with her. Time is money, as they say. Next time, I would say, until there wasn’t a next time.”

The weight of his words settled on the table.

“It’s not your fault,” you reminded him, but Taehyung simply smiled and shook his head.

“It wasn’t anybody’s fault,” he agreed. “But that wasn’t it. I couldn’t get all that time back. Sure, did I take jobs that put me in a really good place now? Yeah. Yeah, of course, I make a lot of money now since young me jumped at every chance to model for a small brand or do a single-run commercial. I really love my career. I love that, because I did the hard work, I even get offers to act in primetime dramas now. But I should have made less. I should have made time. I should have gone to see her and let her do her duty to give me good memories.”

He waved his hands in a slight shrug. You could tell he was still regretful about it, but there was something else too. He looked directly at you with that boxy grin of his.

“I decided, then, that I too  wanted to give good memories to the people that are precious to me. I have all this money, anyway. Why waste it on things? I want to waste it on memories. I want people to look forward to special days, to celebrate life, to look back on a fun time.”

So that was why.

“That is what is really important to me.”

Kim Taehyung wasn’t only good looks, of course.

“I’ve yapped long enough. What is really important to you?” he asked again, chuckling.

“Oh, I…”

And there were no words.

You straightened, startled by your own silence. There were lots of important things, weren’t there? There was… and there wasn’t. Friends, sure. And, also, friends came in and out of your life. You didn’t take it personally. Family, yes. Cordial but not deep. They had their own lives to live. You almost opened your mouth to say these generic things, and then you caught the look in Taehyung’s eye and stopped.

This basic question was not so basic after all.

“I… Am I boring?” you blurted with a start.

“Boring?” Taehyung frowned. “No, you’re not.”

Your brows furrowed. “Aren’t I?”

He laughed, hearty and deep. “Trust me. You’re not boring. We wouldn’t be having a conversation if you were boring.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why are we having a conversation?”

Taehyung smiled warmly.

“Because I appreciate your outlook on life.”

You were taken aback.

“What?”

He nodded. “Isn’t it obvious?” He waved a hand carelessly. “I’ve met so many people doing what I do. Some people are just nice to you because of money. Or think you can boost their reputation. Or they think they can take advantage of you. You’ve been around all that too, no?” He did not mention Jungkook.

“Oh, well…” you hesitated. “Not anymore. I’m pretty ordinary.”

A small frown. “No, everyone is extraordinary.”

You scoffed. “I’m only an accountant. Not even one that works closely with my own clients – I’m just the one at the firm that does the final review over everyone’s work to make sure we don’t get into legal trouble. That’s nothing like what you do.”

He impatiently swept your words away. “Everyone is extraordinary,” he repeated.

“I don’t think–”

“You are different,” Taehyung pressed. “You had been introduced to a different world than your own and you could have been a vulture. You could have taken for your own sake. You could have done everything you could to be ‘one of us’. You could have scorned us too, called it all superficial and stupid. But you didn’t.” He crossed his arms to make his point. “You observed. You listened. You treated me, the people around me, everyone as their own person. We weren’t just some dumb rich people to you. We were individuals.”

You didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t something you had ever consciously thought about before.

“There are so many people that believe in using others, either in a beneficial way or in a cruel way,” sighed Taehyung. “It’s a difficult world. We all need to live.” He reached over and made you jump by placing his hand over the back of yours. “Don’t give up on that, okay?”

Your stared at him with wide eyes. “On… what?”

Almost. You didn’t quite have an answer for the most important lesson in your life you had learned so far. But almost. Kim Taehyung cocooned his palm over your hand and trapped you with his determined brown eyes, straight from a drama scene. A heavenly prince in a fancy café. He looked back to you very seriously, taking all of your attention away from the whispering conversations on other tables, away from the clinking plates and glasses, away from all distractions.

“Don’t give up on the way you want to live.”

Those small moments.

From eating dinner alone to watching movies alone to buying that album and unboxing it yourself to looking outside, days and nights, wondering what could have been and killing that thought over and over again.

“The way… I want to live?” you echoed breathlessly.

The clear, musical chime of the bell by the entrance sang through the air, mingling with the conversation and consumption. A halo of sound that rang true over every table to reach every customer. It was as striking as it was lovely, flawlessly melding into the moment. A pure sound that could trigger a pleasant déjà vu, the recall of a good chat over good food.

Taehyung grinned with his beautiful, perfectly white teeth.

“I want you to have good memories. Whatever you decide, let us make good memories with those precious to us.”

You decided, then and there, that you needed to start doing things.

-

“Oh, good, you’re home. That would have been awfully embarrassing.”

“W-What…?”

You backed up in your slippers as a stunningly well-dressed man flourished into your home like an astronaut landing on the moon. That was, if the moon was your front door. The black mat was space-themed, printed with abstract stars and a grayish circle. It wasn’t entirely inaccurate. Your pajamas were also soft black cotton with a twinkly star print, although your slippers were simple, white furry poofs that felt like walking on clouds.

“Take this.”

“What is – oof!”

In contrast to your outfit, the man who had entered your home looked like he had stepped off the runway. He wore light blue trousers that you almost mistook for jeans, however they had a tone-on-tone print that clearly indicated the luxury designer. Underneath the navy-blue duster coat was a crisp white shirt pressed to the gods with distinctive sky-blue trim. A quick glimpse and anyone would know the inner lining of the duster was blue silk, the matching tone-on-tone print subtle and obvious at the same time. You nearly buckled under the weight of a wooden box, gasping as you saw the slices of high-grade beef in a gold bow. The man gestured with his hand in a swooping manner.

“I heard all about it from Taehyung,” he was saying, shrugging his broad shoulders heavily.

“Heard…?” You were still reeling from the unexpected guest and a box of meat. “What’s this, I can’t accept th–”

The man shot you a scathing look. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he chided, dismissive. “How unbelievably rude I would be dropping by your home if I didn’t have a gift? Psh, why, I wouldn’t be Kim Seokjin!”

And so he was.

Although, as far as you knew, you and famous-actor-turned-businessman Kim Seokjin were not close friends. Not close enough to be gifted with a house call and meat, anyway. He had been close to Jeon Jungkook back then. They often sought each other out when they both attended the same events. You were well aquatinted with Seokjin’s boisterous personality and his worldwide-known handsomeness. He was no different today, looking sculpted from jawline to broad shoulders to the regal way he stood. Glowing skin. Lightly permed, chestnut brown hair. Full lips, currently in a slight frown.

You bowed awkwardly. “S-Sorry, I just didn’t expect…”

“Ah, it’s alright.” He called you by name, although somewhat awkwardly, as if he was unsure if he should be more formal or not. “I won’t take too much of your time.”

You were still confused about Seokjin saying he had heard something from Taehyung. Actually, you didn’t even know how he got your address, although it wasn’t impossible. After all, Taehyung’s party invitations came in snail mail. It wasn’t that shocking. You probably might have been more annoyed if you were in the middle of something, but all you had been doing was getting ready to heat up some leftover takeout. You shuffled slightly, trying to block the view of the kitchen counter. Not necessarily embarrassed, per se, as your apartment was quite spacious and neat, but nothing here was comparable to Kim Seokjin’s lifestyle. It was kind of pointless to do so, though, since Seokjin was quite tall.

He seemed not to notice or care about the current state of your kitchen.

You stood there, dazed, clutching a box of high-grade beef.

He cleared his throat very firmly. “I came to invite you to the opening of my new establishment. Two weeks from now.” He rattled off the opening date. “But don’t come on opening day. It’ll be too crowded. Some day after. Let me know when and I’ll make special arrangements for you,” he added, stepping forward to tuck his business card into one of the folds of the gold bow. “Call the number on there. My assistant will connect me to you. I can link you with talented professionals if you are interested, which I’ll pay for, of course.”

“I– What – I’m sorry?” you sputtered. “Me?”

The handsome man exaggeratedly whipped his head from side to side. “Uh, do I see anyone else? Yes, of course, you,” he affirmed gruffly. “I came to invite you in person.”

“Well…” This must be how deer felt when confronted with headlights. “I’m not trying to be rude, but, uh… why?”

Seokjin looked offended. “Why? So you can meet people, silly.”

You struggled to connect the information given to you but he was not making it easy. “Meet people?”

“Yes,” he tutted. “You want to meet people, don’t you?”

Did you? You gave him a confused look.

“As Taehyung said,” Seokjin continued as if you completely understood. “People like you need to be surrounded by good people. And I happen to know a lot of them. We need people like you in this industry.”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t have any intention of–”

“Precisely.” He barreled on as if your front entryway was his own stage. “That is precisely why.”

Silence.

A bird cawed outside.

“H… Hah?”

Something in his expression softened. You almost forgot the weight of the wood box in your hands. You almost forgot the ridiculousness of you in your pajamas and Kim Seokjin in his luxury designer clothes. You almost forgot that you were in a completely different class, completely out of your element, completely ordinary.

He sighed and slipped his hands into his pants pockets, neatly tucking back his coat. “Look, I understand if you absolutely don’t want to have anything to do with me and the others. I don’t blame you. But,” he added, nodding lightly. “Your presence is missed. I do believe your interactions with those around you have done them a world of good. Maybe not everyone, yes, but you’re still spoken of, even now.”

“What…?” You blinked, doubtful. “Really?”

Seokjin chuckled, nodding. “You are good company.”

You thought all those times. All those events, dinners, parties. You mostly remembered Jungkook letting you be. Sure, you had light conversation with those around you. You couldn’t remember all their faces. They had been simple conversations, you thought, but they weren’t superficial once you really thought about it. You didn’t have basic industry chatter to talk about, so instead you had asked about aspirations. Asked why instead of what. Why acting? Why modeling? Why entertainment? Talks of the past, the present, the future. Pretty normal, you thought, but maybe…

Maybe it was more normal to ask what they were achieving.

Maybe it wasn’t so normal to ask who someone was.

“Anyway,” Seokjin coughed, breaking you out of your daze. “I wanted to give you ample time to think about it.”

“More than two weeks?” you mused.

He waved a hand. “Don’t know about you, but I need time to schedule and plan things. I need time to get myself ready to interact,” he muttered, half-joking and half-bitterly.

The meat was getting heavy. “Ah… What’s the dress code?”

“Aish, didn’t I tell you?” Seokjin tapped the side of his head. “Think about it. Then give me a call, and I’ll arrange for hair and makeup and fashion. No, don’t even bother asking about price. I’m inviting you to introduce you to people, so I am paying. End of discussion. And…”

A loaded pause.

Tick of the head and Seokjin very seriously asked you.

“If Jeon Jungkook is there, will you be fine?”

You answered honestly.

“I don’t think it will be an issue.”

He surveyed you for a long second and then nodded.

“Alright. Let me know when you’ve decided. Have a nice night. Don’t hesitate to contact me if I can help in some way. I’m not a stranger. By the way.” He added one last comment before leaving, spinning back around with a hand on your now open door and the other pointing to the side of the box. “The butcher shop I purchased this from is owned by a friend of mine. Make sure to send your family and friends his way once you taste how delicious and high-quality it is.”

-

You walked into the nightclub, oddly at peace among the blaring music and bustling bodies, stepping into a world of light and dark and pushing boundaries.

The past couple hours had been spent in a chair, fussed over by a detailed makeup artist and equally talented hairdresser. It had been more enjoyable than you originally thought. Perhaps it had been Seokjin’s excellent choices or their own expertise. They even both asked for your input and offered their advice. It felt like a joint effort. Even the fashion stylist who came later was as informative as they were considerate. You had found out that they had taken your name and your photos to have your fortune read and performed color analysis, respectively. That explained why Seokjin had asked you to take those plain photos. This had made color and style selection much simpler, as you naturally liked all the choices. You were no stranger to tight outfits, although this type of nightlife was not the kind of place you frequented. The stylist had brought a rack of choices, and just in case, a black slip dress looks good on everyone, and all of them were compelling in one way or another. All nightclub appropriate. You asked what to try first. The stylist had asked you how you were feeling.

Feeling?

The answer came out before you could stop it.

“Like revenge.”

You had laughed it off, and so had the staff, but you had seen the gleam in their eyes as if they, too, relished in being part of this so-called revenge.

Well, they were.

You weren’t perfectly sure if this was actual revenge yet, no. You were certainly dressed for it. Black lace corset. Tight lilac short skirt. Black patent leather jacket cropped so severely that it was nearly a bolero. Delicate black pumps with a thin ankle strap. The kind that was a bit fiddly to get on, but was worth it in the end. There was a power in this type of outfit, the kind that made you hold your head high and walk alone with confidence. Perhaps similar to a superhero costume. Just as impractical, too, heh. But that was okay. You weren’t here to prevent any crimes.

Just commit them.

Maybe.

In any case, you weren’t even sure what was going to happen tonight. Something had been planned for you, so you walked in and looked around, wondering if you should ask for help. The luxury was obvious from every corner of the building. From the furniture choices to the expansive bar to the crisp, pressed uniforms of the employees, every detail oozed sophistication. You admired the tastefulness of it, surprised that it didn’t feel gaudy or overdone. Must be the refined touch of Kim Seokjin. Even the clientele was jaw-dropping. You spared a moment to look from face to face, wondering if you should be less obvious about it, but then some paused and gazed back, unafraid, offering a simple smile.

They didn’t know you didn’t really belong, yet.

The sheep’s clothing worked, then.

You almost laughed at your own unspoken joke, and then, either compelled by fate, chance, or some mixture of both, your eyes rose and you saw him. It was definitely him. It was only the back of his head and black leather, but you knew it was him even before he turned around.

Jeon Jungkook.

You had seen him many times after the fact. However, this time was the first time that you came with weapons at your disposal, subtle as they were. For a moment, you wondered what to do. You stared as those brooding dark eyes widened in surprise. His hair was slicked back. Leather jacket, white tank, dark jeans, probably black boots. You couldn’t see it all from this angle. Still, you knew him too well. He wasn’t a suit-and-tie breed unless he was forced by the occasion. And, anyway.

You had mildly hoped that he would dress down these days, as it both suited him and reflected your preferred personal taste.

Egotistical, yes, and, now that you could see, true.

You broke the gaze first, seeing a waiter approach you. Bowed lightly, walking with him as he explained what was in store tonight, and yet your mind was still fixated on that shocked gaze from the far table up above. It did register that you were going up the stairs too, but somehow you knew that you weren’t going near that table.

You wondered if he regretted everything.

You wondered if he saw you differently now, dressed up and on a mission.

You wondered if Jeon Jungkook understood, truly, how deeply he had hurt you with his misdemeanors and you wondered if you, truly, understood how you didn’t help by always sweeping said misdemeanors under the metaphorical rug. You wondered if there was a chance for reconciliation or if this was all a big mistake. Maybe this was only another instance of two ships silently passing in the night. A pair of parallel lines that would never intersect. Or… would this become a pattern that could only be completed by intersection?

Whichever one it was, it was going to be evident tonight.

You raised your head, seeing a champagne bottle and another of expensive liquor.

“Are you ready?”

Your eyes shifted and you smiled up at the waitress.

“Yes, I am.”

She smiled and bowed her way out. Revenge. You savored the word. You had never thought of it that way, but then again that was because you always believed in the higher road. In enduring. That was how strength was formed. Vindication was unladylike and uncouth. Or so the story goes. You became aware that you were being watched.

I don’t belong here.

You twisted your body and stared directly into Jeon Jungkook’s eyes.

He pivoted away immediately. Unable to hold your gaze. Ashamed, probably. You pondered quietly. He brought you into this. All this around you – beauty, opulence, and the shadows between gold. Even without him, your connection to these people remained because his friends believed in you for some reason. You agreed, because maybe there was still something here for you.

But that was no reason to believe that you belonged here nor to act like it.

You realized, suddenly, that some part of you still thought you had to keep up the front.

“Excuse me.”

You looked up to a man who had the expression of a pleased kitty cat. His eyes disappeared from his smile. Radiant, cream skin. Long, bleached-blond hair that was half-tied back from his face but still skimmed along his shoulders. He wore a suit and tie, perfectly tailored, and was noticeably shorter than nearly everyone here. Then again, almost everyone here was a model, in high heels, or both.

“Did I interrupt?” he asked lightly, his intonation hinting at a Busan dialect.

“Oh, no,” you answered with a shake of your head. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me to space out like that. Please, sit down.”

The man laughed behind his hand before pulling out the chair and sitting down. He had elegant fingers that reminded you of a pianist. “It was cute,” he commented, somewhat shyly, before turning away and clearing his throat. He faced you once again, composed now, and bowed in greeting, stating his name.

You hurriedly did the same.

“I hope I’m not thinking too highly of myself by sitting here with you.”

You shook your head. “No, no. I want this to be an open invitation.” You poured him a glass of liquor to start off the night. He had a noticeable presence. Not a towering one, rather, as someone who knew himself well. Still, you could sense an introverted soul. “Don’t feel too pressured. I only want to ask a question.”

His eyebrows raised, curious. “A question?”

You smiled. “Yes. And I want you to promise to answer honestly.”

His lips upturned thoughtfully. There was something playful about his expressions. Very cute. Perhaps unintentional. “A promise right away to a stranger?”

You allowed yourself a little mischief. “Do I look like I could hurt anyone?”

The man across the table caught the bait and toyed with it. An expert. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean It wouldn’t be pleasant.” He smiled again, with that same kitty cat contentment, and nodded. “Okay, I’m ready to tell the truth. You only get one chance. Use it well.” His tone teased, but his voice was sincere.

The question.

You stared into a stranger’s eyes and asked.

“What is the most important lesson in your life you’ve learned so far?”

-

i hear... | ... the whispers... | ... in your eyes.

--

masterpost

[bunnysbrainrot]

Blood Flow

Kinktober Prompt: Choking

Relationship: dbf!Joel Miller x Reader

Content: [i was going for something sensual and i failed.] Explicit sexual scenes, fingering, choking, squirting, praise kink, Joel’s kinda rough, teasing. No outbreak AU.

Summary: You curiously tread into the realm of choking, but you have no clue why people think it feels ‘good’. With Joel’s help, you realize that there’s simply a right way to do it.

A/N: pay attention to the last line. it implies exactly what you think it does. **ALSO! part 3 for this is out, it’s called Daddy’s Girl!

this scene is so weird, why is he choking her???

Your fingers flitted across your phone screen, texting as you watch a new show. In this scene, the two main characters finally broke their tension, and things were growing heavy. You watched the actor’s hand wrap around his costar’s throat, watching how her face contorted in bliss.

Cause it feels good, sweetheart, Joel replied.

Bringing your own hand to your neck, you pressed against your windpipe and choked, like really choked, but it didn’t feel like you thought it would. And your face definitely did not make those same expressions as the woman in the show.

Clearing your throat, you replied to Joel. A few years ago, this kind of conversation would earn you an intervention with your parents. This was your dad’s best friend, and you shouldn’t be texting him about being choked, of all things.

But fuck, was texting Joel a wonderful time.

A single message could have you squeezing your thighs together. Every baby girl, sweetheart, and honey was imagined in his voice as if he were there, whispering them into your ear. You would imagine his fingers dancing across your skin as he showered you with those sweet pet names.

tried it on myself, and i can confirm that it feels awful. coughing my lungs out right now

Joel read your text and let out a hearty chuckle, quickly replying back. He knew you were a tad… inexperienced with things like this, and that you wouldn’t ask just anyone about this. He had you wrapped around his finger, as you did him.

Baby doll, you’re probably pressing on your windpipe. It’s a little tricky to do it on yourself

You groaned at the text, still frustrated at your little mishap. The reply you gave him was rather bold, but you anxiously sent it anyway.

maybe you could show me

The two of you had flirted a lot more since you came back home from college. Four years of hard schoolwork had you taking a break back home with your parents to choose your next big step in life. At first it started small - little compliments on your clothes, on your intelligence, on how much you’d come into your own. Your glances at Joel lasted too long to be friendly, and it didn’t help when you ran your foot along his leg under the table at big family dinners.

In short, you were driving each other absolutely wild, pulling the tension taught between you, waiting for it to snap.

But Joel wanted to go slow. This was dangerous territory, and he needed to take his time.

Maybe I could

You stared blankly at the phone screen, reading over the message with a fluttering heart behind your ribs. A wave of warmth spread over you with a beeline between your thighs. You clenched your legs together as you texted Joel back.

right now?

J: Door’s unlocked, I’m just watching TV. If you want to join me we can watch that show you were telling me about

Like an alarm went off you shot out of bed, hurrying to your dresser and closet to find a more impressive outfit. Joel wouldn’t care all that much - he liked seeing you in anything. It didn’t matter how much or little you had on, you were always beautiful to him.

headed out now!

Joel have a swift reply that buzzed in your pocket.

Someone’s eager.

You trekked over to the neighborhood next to yours, practically skipping with each step up to Joel’s house. Thankfully, his daughter, Sarah, would be at a friend’s house this evening, leaving you and Joel all to yourselves.

Joel’s head perked up when he heard you knock. He, almost too excitedly, shot up from the couch and headed to the front door.

He was an effortlessly handsome man. And now, in a simple pair of sweatpants and v-neck shirt, he looked more stunning than ever. For you, it also didn’t matter what he wore - he always looked handsome.

“Hi,” you said, offering him a small smile.

Joel raised an arm and leaned against the doorframe. His lean muscles shifted under his tan skin, hardened by those years under the Texas sun, and caught the light from inside to accentuate his bicep. He caught you ogling, and laughed.

“Sweetheart, I’m not just eye candy,” Joel’s voice was soft after the long day he had, “You comin’ in, or what?”

Your smile widened as you stepped in, dipping under Joel’s arm to step in the living room. He had already closed the blinds preemptively to shield yourselves from any prying eyes. You sat on the couch and waited for Joel to join you.

He slowly made his way over, “So, what show were you watchin’?”

You sighed dramatically, “Well, now it’s just embarrassing. We can watch something else, instead.”

Joel shook his head at your offer, gesturing to the TV, “Not embarrassing at all. ‘Sides, I got a plan for it.”

He snatched the remote from the arm of the couch and chose a spot right next to you. After a series of questions, you began to play the show you’d seen, found the right episode, and played the scene in question.

Joel remained silent the entire time, glancing between you and the TV. His stare bore into you, but it was unclear as to what was going through his mind.

But the scene, to your relief, ended, and the shyness you’d felt could be over. Joel paused the show in the middle of the next scene and finally met your eyes.

“Alright, I think I know where ya went wrong,” he commented. You cocked an eyebrow at him.

“It’s all about controlling the blood flow, not pressin’ on the windpipe. That’s a one way ticket to the man upstairs,” Joel laughed and brought his hand to your cheek, cupping your face carefully. His thumb passed over your cheekbone before he shifted down toward your neck.

He placed his thumb and index finger on either side of your throat, right under your jaw. The pressure was uncomfortable at first, pressing into you in a way that sparked some faint nausea. You cleared your throat and swallowed to dull the feeling.

“Pressin’ here,” his grip tightened, “reduces the blood flow. It’s still a lil’ hard to breathe, but it doesn’t risk your safety.”

A lightness began to creep through you as Joel pressed into your throat. Blackness clouded the edge of your vision, blurring Joel’s features, though you could barely make out a lazy smile.

After a few long seconds, he let go, and you could freely breathe once again. The rush of blood back to your brain throbbed at your temples, though the brief headache was nothing compared to the rush of pleasure it delivered.

To your surprise, the rush went straight to your core, leaving you shifting your legs together.

Joel leaned forward and planted a kiss on your cheek, his voice was a low whisper.

“See? Feels good when someone does it right, don’t it?”

You nodded, still held securely by his hand around your throat. His lips traveled across your face, to your temples, to your jaw, and finally finding your own, flush and fluid with your own movements. Joel tightened his grip again, and the same rush came flowing through. It was tricky to keep kissing Joel at the pace he set. Instead, your mouth slacked open as a moan escaped you, swallowed eagerly by Joel.

He spoke slowly against your lips, nipping at them between his words.

“How is it, baby doll? Still feel good?”

It was wonderful. Had you not messaged him about this, you would’ve been completely in the dark about this whole new world of pleasure. So wonderful, in fact, that you could feel a new slickness in your sex, about to soak into your panties. Instinctively you ground your hips, pathetically pressing your aching pussy into nothing substantial.

Joel moved his other hand lower, raking over your shifting thighs, “Tell me, sweet girl, does it make you feel good down here?”

His hand cupped your clothed sex, pressing against your slit and slowly massaging your core. Your breath trembled as you gave him another nod - a small sign of permission to take things further.

“Joel… Joel,” you whispered, fighting against his grip on your throat. Amidst the rush going through your head you could barely hold onto what he was saying, let alone reply coherently.

His lips had wandered to your jaw, peppering a trail of kisses around his rough fingers, “What is it, baby girl? Tell me whatcha need.”

You choked out your reply, “In.. inside.”

A low laugh danced across your skin, “That’s my girl. Always needing something fillin’ her up. ‘Least when I’m involved, anyway.”

He pressed harder against your aching sex - the abrasion of the fabric turned you into a whimpering mess in a matter of seconds. You needed more. You needed him.

Joel groaned against your skin when you tugged his hand past the waistband of your pants, pushing him lower toward your core.

“Need me to make you feel good, sweet girl?” his voice thrummed through your chest. You nodded, urging your lungs to take in sweet, fresh air amidst the constriction. Joel loosened his grip ever so slightly, letting you catch your breath.

He hummed against your jaw as he adjusted his hand with his fingers teasingly at your entrance. A single finger played with your wet hole, swirling around carefully, not fully giving you what you need. Not yet.

You mewled a slurred version of his name, eyes rolling back when his grip tightened around your throat.

Joel’s fingers didn’t stop, but rather pushed further, sinking past your soaked folds and into your tight pussy. A small whimper from you made him smile, carefully eyeing you as he moved his fingers, curling them up to brush your sweet spot.

“Joel… fu-fuck,” you choked.

His fingers plunged deeper into your warm cunt, curling harshly to draw a long-awaited moan. Until now, Joel hadn’t had the joy of hearing you utter anything above a whisper.

You cried out, straining against his grip, but was sent back to fighting for that sacred blood flow back to your brain.

You brought your hand up to meet the one at your neck, tapping against the back of his hand. A beat passed before Joel realized the mistake. He swiftly released you and cradled your head, slowing his movements between your thighs.

“Sorry,” you rasped, “that was just a little too hard. I couldn’t really make any noise without coughing.”

Joel leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. He broke away with the softest tone you’d heard all night.

“You ain’t got nothin’ to apologize for, honey,” he replied, spreading his kisses to your cheeks. “Got a little too ahead of myself there.”

He kissed you until you were left breathless and panting. By now your lips were plump from the bites and nips Joel had given them.

“Maybe we could try a different position, whaddya say?”

After a beat of thought, you nod in agreement and follow his lead. He removed his hand from your pants, lightly sucking at his soaked fingers, and moaning at your taste across his tongue.

This was the closest he’d been to truly tasting you. Words escaped him as he tried to describe the feeling of heaven on his very lips.

You stood from the couch and watched Joel taste yourself on his fingers. He was completely entranced, and monitoring your every movement as you waited for his direction.

Darkness filled his eyes, “Y’might need to take those pants off, sweetheart. Need a good angle for this.”

Now right in front of his legs, you urged Joel to spread them apart and stood between them.

He took this as a silent request for his help. Joel gave you a smile and sat forward, letting his hands climb up your thighs, taking their sweet time to cover as much of them as he could.

Joel hooked his fingers on your waistband and gently tugged, unwrapping you like it was Christmas morning.

Your bottoms dropped to your ankles, and all was left was your soaked panties, the last barrier between Joel and what he’d wanted to see most. Joel leaned further, leaving a trail of kisses from your mid-thigh to your hip, alternating to the other side. Each touch of his lips set you ablaze. His gentle touches paled in comparison to the heat roiling through your belly, trickling right down to your aching pussy.

At long last he peeled your panties off of you, slowly sending them down your legs until they joined your pants. Your lower half was bare for him now; you were a gift unwrapped, the best present he could’ve asked for.

“Christ,” Joel muttered. His eyes scanned over your half naked form, giving you a curious look at your chest.

He wanted nothing more than to wander up there, letting his hands dip below the fabric and slide up to your chest. Your tits were selfishly hidden from him, with your perfect, perk nipples poking through, enticing him to search for more.

You wrapped your legs on either side of him, pushing Joel back against the couch so you could get into position. His legs stayed spread open, thus making you open yours across his.

Spread perfectly wide for whatever he had planned for you.

Joel cupped the back of your neck and pulled you in for another kiss, working his hands over your thighs in the process. You could feel a couple of damp fingertips from where he’d fingered you before. Those same fingers now crept toward your needy hole, teasing you ever so slowly.

You bucked your hips and positioned them over his hand, whining at the lack of touch.

“Joel, please,” you mumbled, keeping your lips in tandem with his own. Joel grumbled out a reply you couldn’t discern before a hand made its way to your throat.

Joel pressed down on either side of your windpipe to deliver that sweet head rush of elation.

“I’ve got you, baby girl, I’ll take care of you.”

And that, he did. His hands moved with pure greed at your neck and pussy, sending two fingers up into your tight cunt. You cried out against his lips as he slowly pumped into you.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Let it all out.”

You were relieved you could make at least a little noise. It was better than it was at home, where you’d spent countless nights touching yourself, moaning against your hand or a nearby pillow.

But here… here you could cry out as Joel touched you. You could freely show him how good he was making you feel.

You let out a soft whine, but it was not well-received by Joel.

“I wanna hear you, baby.”

A louder moan drew from your throat. Joel’s fingers curled inside of you, pressing into the spongy part right past your entrance. Your walls fluttered gently around his fingers, pulling him in further.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” said Joel, still mumbling against your lips. You offered him a smile, proud that your body was to his liking. It was all you’d hoped for, to be perfect for him.

“Not sure how this little pussy’s gonna handle me, though,” he continued in a cocky voice. “But I think you could do it.”

He curled his fingers harshly, causing you to slur your words together. Something about Joel, and harder, and please.

“Such a good girl. Bet you’d take anything I gave you, huh?”

You nodded slightly, constricted under his grip to move any further.

Joel pushed his fingers deeper, picking up his pace until the wet sounds of your ravaged cunt filled the room. Your juices flowed from your pussy and onto his hand, leaking down from his fingers to his palm, pooling your sweet slick before it trickled to the floor below.

His pace became relentless, though the grip on your throat loosened. You let out a shuddering moan as he furiously pumped his fingers, making your cunt squelch with the most obscene sounds you’d ever heard.

“Attagirl,” Joel praised, “Just keep still. I gotcha.”

The reassuring tone kept you conflicted - it totally contrasted from what he was doing to your body.

Fuck, if this is how it was with just his hands alone, you silently prayed that you could handle what else he could give you.

There was a new tightness in your abdomen, pooling around in your sex, but it was a deeper sort of pressure you’d never felt. It felt like…

“Joel,” you protested, “I think I gotta pee.”

He laughed against your lips, “Just work with me here, darlin’.”

You squirmed on his hand as this new sensation spread through your pussy. This kind of pressure wasn’t something you could’ve gotten from your own hand, let alone any toy.

No, this was the masterful work of Joel Miller’s fingers, unraveling you around him.

He struck deeper, twisting his wrist to get a better angle, curling each thick digit against your sweet spot. You choked on a gasp as the pressure in your abdomen built, threatening to break apart.

With a flurry of swift motion the tension broke, and a beautiful symphony sounded - the rush of your juices that poured onto his hand, the strangled moan that fell from your slacked mouth, followed by the pleased groan Joel drew out.

“What… hah… was that..?” you panted. Joel kissed your cheekbone as he worked you through your high.

“Did I just… did I sq-“ you could barely make out the word.

“You did. And you did such a good job, sweet girl.”

The praise roiled through your gut. A soreness flooded through your sex, trailing toward your cervix. You swallowed nervously at the thought of anything bigger, and what it could do to your insides.

Joel slowed his pace and released the hand that had been trained to your neck. You both worked through your climax, coming down smoothly to where you now laid slumped against Joel’s chest.

His hands still roved over your skin, gently kneading your ass and thighs as you caught your breath.

“How you feelin’, honey?” his Southern drawl intoxicated his words with a sickly sweetness.

You pressed your face into the crook of his neck a let out a small, content mmm, taking in his scent. The mix of his cologne and sweat sent something possessive through you, to have this all for yourself. It felt too selfish for that pining to be one-sided - for you to want him as much as you did, without knowing if he held the same ferocity about you as you did him.

“Thirsty.”

“I bet. That’ll take a lot outta ya - let’s get a glass of water and getcha cleaned up.”

You worked your legs off of his thighs and stood shakily. After sitting in that awkward position and having your senses scrambled, your knees buckled beneath your weight, desperately trying to hold your quivering thighs steady.

“Hold on, sweetheart, I’ve gotcha,” Joel said, swiftly standing on steady feet. You pouted at the unfairness - his hands tore at your sex and left you trembling while he was perfectly fine.

“You better not laugh at me,” you snapped, though the drained tone in your words had Joel chucking slightly.

He held you steady with both hands and led you toward the kitchen, “You look like you got a hip replacement.”

“You’re nearing that age, aren’t you?” you quipped. Joel gave you a firm smack on your ass as his reply.

“Better watch it, I don’t do well with brats.”

hi y’all! thank you so much for reading and supporting, and happy Kinktober!

If you’re looking for the part 3 of this, it’s called Daddy’s Girl! I would love if you gave it a read

ily xoxo