#PR Lunch Event

[rosemaryhelenxo]

Experience the Ultimate Smash-Burger Extravaganza with Bürgshake in Bournemouth! | Review - PR Event

I was invited along with the Bournemouth Bloggers to experience the new smash-burger extravaganza, Burgshake that has hit Bournemouth!. From their freshly made smashed burgers, to juicy fried chicken there’s plenty to choose from to cure your cravings! Bringing the American Diner’s classic of smashed burgers to the UK with their own twist! Fancy a dessert? They also have you covered with…

[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

[writing-imagines]

Oh Baby // Leah Williamson

Summary: Your relationship with Leah has always been a secret to the public. So, when you’re photographed looking very pregnant and hanging out with your best friend, Austin Butler, the internet assumes he is the father. Leah, already hating Austin, gets jealous and wants to announce to the world that you’re married and expecting your first child together.

Pairing: Leah Williamson x Pregnant Actress!Reader, Reader x Platonic Bestie Austin Butler

Possible warnings: pregnancy, jealousy, Hollywood politics

When you were younger, you always swore you’d never get married. Your insistence on never getting married only grew stronger once you made it to Hollywood. Everyone warned you that getting married and having kids would instantly kill your acting career. With that kind of warning, you followed the narrative your PR team created for you to a tee. For years you pretended to be the cool relatable actress who only starred in critically acclaimed films and never did serious relationships. Really, the only relationships you had were PR for whatever movie you were promoting.

That all changed once you met Leah at an event. You fell for her hard and fast, even though it went against every rule that Hollywood taught you. The one rule you did follow was keeping your relationship extremely private. It took a full year before either of you even let friends and family know you were dating. You didn’t want to hide your relationship, but you knew it would be easier to function in your professional life if everyone believed you were single. Since no one knew you were dating there were no paparazzi stalking you to get a couples picture, no fans bashing you for dating, and no interviewers asking you about one another.

Your marriage was even a secret with only handfuls of trusted friends and family attending. While you managed to keep everything about your relationship under wraps to the general public for years, you knew it would become much more difficult to protect your relationship status when you and Leah decided to go through the process of having a baby.

After consulting your team, you decided to make an announcement on Instagram that you would be taking a break from acting to focus on your mental health and family. It wasn’t a total lie and the public seemed to support your decision. So, for eight months, you laid low. You hardly ever went into the city, if you did you were heavily disguised, and you really only left the house to go to Leah’s family events. But, as you approached the ninth month mark, you were tired of being cooped up all day and not being able to fly home to see any of your friends. That’s why when your best friend invited you out to lunch, you happily accepted.

“What are you doing?” Your wife questioned as you rummaged through your shared closet.

“I’m trying to find that really oversized flannel I bought from the thrift shop a few months ago.”

“Why? You look fine.” Leah cocked her eyebrow as she watched you sort through all the hung up shirts.

“Because, I want to try to hide the bump while I’m at lunch with Austin.”

“What? You didn’t tell me you were going out to lunch and you certainly didn’t mention you were going with him.” You rolled your eyes at Leah’s words. Your wife had always been weary of Austin since you told her about your short lived PR relationship for a drama film you both starred in years ago. You reassured Leah that nothing actually happened between the two of you, besides a few strategically planned kisses in front of paparazzi, but she could never shake the jealousy she felt towards him.

“I told you last night after I picked you up from the airport.”

“Babe, I was barely awake when you picked me up. I don’t even remember coming home.”

“Well, I defiantly told you. Here it is!” You pulled the shirt off the hanger and held it up as if it were a trophy.

“Can’t you cancel? I’ve missed my girls.” Leah took a step forward and placed her hands on your very round belly. Ever since you found out the baby was a girl, Leah couldn’t stop herself from always saying you were ‘her girls.’

“No, I can’t cancel. We’ve had this lunch planned for weeks.” Leah huffed before letting go of your stomach and sitting on the bed. As you attempted to button the flannel, you noticed the blonde crossed her arms over her chest and scowled.

“Oh don’t pout. I’ll only be gone for a little bit. When I get back we can cuddle.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” Leah’s eyes softened and she allowed her arms to fall at her sides. You walked over to the bed and placed a sweet kiss on your wife’s lips.

“I’ll see you later. I love you.”

“I love you too. Have fun.”

You made your way out of the apartment and into London. Thankfully, the restaurant you were meeting at wasn’t too far away and was in a less busy area. You knew Austin also wasn’t a fan of being recognized in public so it made sense he would suggest a lesser known spot to meet. When you approached the restaurant, Austin was already seated outside at a table.

“Hey, Y/n! How have you been?” He jumped up and greeted you with a hug.

“Pretty good! Just waiting for Little Miss here to come out.” You gently patted the top of your belly after pulling away from the hug. Austin smiled and shook his head as you both sat down.

“I still can’t believe you’re having a baby. I remember when you were firmly against domestic life.”

“That was years ago. Thankfully, I stopped being so stubborn and met the person who made me want to live the domestic life.”

“How is Leah anyway? She still hate me?” Austin questioned as he flipped through the menu.

“She’s good and she doesn’t hate you. She just hasn’t gotten to know you yet.”

“She’s known me for five years. I was involved in your wedding!” He chuckled and leaned back in his chair. You playfully rolled your eyes, knowing that if Leah and Austin would just sit down and talk they would get along well.

“I promise Leah is really sweet. It just takes her a while to warm up to people.”

“At this rate, maybe she’ll like me by the time I’m fifty.”

“Mhm, I think fifty-five might be a better guess.”

You both laughed and continued talking, catching up on life and future plans. While you were both caught up in conversation, neither of you noticed the group of teenage girls across the street snapping endless pictures of the two of you.

Hours went by, but you were so engrossed in conversation that you didn’t notice the time. You only realized how late it was when the restaurant started to get busy. You both agreed it was best to leave before someone noticed either one of you. Austin paid for the both of you and you promised to get together again after the baby was born. After a quick hug goodbye, you started the journey home.

As you approached the apartment, you mentally prepared for Leah’s snarky yet playful comments about how long you’d been gone. “Honey, I’m home!” You called out as you entered. When you kicked your shoes off, you expected some kind of response from Leah. Instead, you were greeted by silence. “Leah, babe, are you home?” You called out again, making your way to the living room. It was there that you found your wife, curled up on the couch with the tv on mute. Your brows knitted together in worry, something was off.

“Hey, everything okay?”

“Not really.” Leah held up her phone for you to take. Once you were close enough, you took the phone from her hands. You let out a sigh when you realized your wife was looking at an article on a gossip website.

Y/n Y/l/n is pregnant! The two time Academy Award winning actress is pregnant with her first child. While the baby’s father is unknown, fans on social media are speculating that it is her ex-boyfriend and former co-star, Austin Butler. The two were spotted together at a restaurant with Y/n trying to hide her baby bump with an oversized shirt. Fans are also speculating if the pregnancy has anything to do with her absence from Hollywood and if she’ll even return to the silver screen.

Attached to the article were about fifty pictures of you sitting at lunch with Austin, your stomach absolutely not hidden by the flannel like you hoped. Your heart started to race as the realization set in. The secret was out, everyone knew you were expecting. All your hard work for the past eight months had been for nothing. Your reputation as everyone’s favorite cool and easy going actress was thrown out the window. Now, all anyone would see you as was the successful actress who stalled her career for a baby. You could see it now, every studio and director writing your auditions off because they knew you had a baby that you wanted to get home to rather than spending sixteen hours on set.

You could only imagine all the emails being sent between your publicist, PR team, and management at the moment.

“People think you’re pregnant with his baby.” Leah mumbled, her eyes were glued to the ground and she looked disappointed.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” You questioned with a harsher tone than intended. You didn’t understand why Leah wasn’t freaking out with you since she knew just how important your public image was to your career.

“Yes. She’s my baby, not his.” Leah looked up at you with pure sadness in her eyes. You let out a sigh and tried to slow down your racing thoughts. Leah was clearly upset at the thought of everyone believing you were having a baby with the man she was jealous of. Knowing how easy it was for your wife to walk off the edge, you decided she needed your attention more than your career did.

“Whose baby is it?” You questioned in a soft, more playful tone with a cocked eyebrow. Leah caught on and twisted her lips to stop a small smile from forming.

“Our baby. She’s our baby.” Leah reached for your hand and squeezed it tight.

“Yes, she is and everyone in our life knows that.”

“But the public doesn’t know.” Silence once again fell over the room as you thought about what your wife said. After a few moments, you understood just what she meant.

“Are you saying you want to tell everyone about us?”

“Yeah, I do. I want everyone to know that you’re my wife and you’re pregnant with our baby. If that’s okay with you.” Leah squeezed your hand again, silently letting you know that she was supportive of whatever you wanted. It was a moment you thought about since you got married, but you never thought the day would actually come where you’d tell the public you were together and started a family. Plus, the word was already out that you were pregnant, there was no reason to not confirm it.

“Yeah, I would like that.” Leah’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, making you smile too. She quickly jumped up and kissed you like her life depended on it. When you pulled away, you both had wide smiles.

“Should I call my PR team and have them come up with an announcement? It will take some of the pressure off us.”

“No, I already have an idea.” Leah announced matter-of-factly with a proud smirk.

“Oh really?”

“Mhm, I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.”

“What exactly are you thinking?”

“You’ll see.”

A few hours later, after responding to what felt like thousands of emails from your team in LA, you were curled up in bed and waiting for Leah to join you. While you absentmindedly flipped through tv channels a notification from Instagram flashed on your phone screen.

Leah Williamson tagged you in a post.

You opened the notification and were immediately greeted by one of your favorite pictures of you and Leah that Katie McCabe had sneakily taken at your last birthday party. You were sitting on the kitchen counter, your t-shirt strained against your newly round stomach, with Leah standing between your legs. Both her hands on either side of your stomach and she looked absolutely in love with you. You remembered the moment fondly, it was one of the first times Leah got to feel the baby kick.

The caption under the picture read

From my favorite actress, to my wife, to the mother of my child. I’ll love you forever.

Even though it had only been posted for barely a minute, the post already had thousands and likes and hundreds of comments.

“What do you think? Is it a good announcement?” Leah questioned as she leaned against the doorframe of your bedroom.

“It’s perfect.” You shared the post to your own stories with a few red hearts. Moments after sharing the post, you turned your phone off for the night. Since there was an eight hour time difference between LA and London, you knew most of your friends back home would see the post and want to text you. You simply chose to deal with all the texts in the morning.

“I’m glad we announced it. I was getting tired of pretending like we were just friends in public.” Leah said as she climbed into bed next to you. Once she was comfortable, you moved closer to her so you could lay your head on Leah’s chest. Her arm wrapped around your back to pull you closer while her other hand rested on your belly.

“I’m glad too. Now I can come to your matches without being paranoid that someone is going to see me there and post about it.” You looked up to see a smile tug at Leah’s lips. The blonde knew how stressful it was for you to show up to Arsenal matches and the thought of you finally being comfortable while watching her play made Leah happy.

“I can’t wait to look in the crowd and see you and the baby. You two will be my good luck charms.” Leah gently traced little patterns on your stomach. The thought of you standing in the crowd, holding your baby, and cheering the blonde on was enough to make Leah’s heart explode with joy.

“What are you going to do if she doesn’t like football?” You questioned, lifting your head slightly off Leah’s chest. She let out a sigh and shook her head.

“I think I’d probably just die.”

“You’re dramatic, you know that?” You let out a small laugh before laying your head back down.

“I’m dramatic? Says the one with two Oscars and only stars in dramatic films.”

“Without those dramatic films, we may have never met. You might have ended up with someone who isn’t dramatic.”

“Oh, that would be just awful.” The blonde said with pure sarcasm in her voice and playfully rolled her eyes.

“You love me and my drama.”

“Yeah, I do.”

You and Leah talked for a little while longer until you eventually fell asleep with your head still on her chest. Leah couldn’t help but watch you sleep. It was a habit she developed shortly after discovering you were pregnant. The blonde could stay awake all night watching your chest rise and fall. It was during quiet moments like that where Leah questioned just how lucky she was to have you. You could have anyone in the world, but you chose her and Leah was forever grateful for whatever she did to deserve you and your baby girl.

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

anon asked:

Hi! It says on your description thing that your requests are open? ( I’m sorry for this if they’re closed :’) )

I read your request rules and it said you take poly kiribaku and I was wondering if you could write a scenario of kiribaku with a fashion designer reader? reader makes them suits and an outfit for themselves from scratch for an event? Just kinda funny fluffy stuff with reader slowly getting more annoyed at them not cooperating ( mainly Bakugou cause he’s Bakugou lol ) but still managing to finish and make them cool suits and an outfit for themselves too :)

I’ve had this lil idea in my head for months now and I love your writing, so if you think you could do something with this I’d be very happy :)) ( sorry for the long request, if you don’t want to write this I wouldn’t mind, also sorry again if your requests are closed :’) )

thank you! :))

a/n: so sorry its a bit short anon, but i did what i could!

w.count: 1.1k

your office was currently a mess. an organized mess but a mess nonetheless and katsuki made sure you knew that by his sneering. it wasn't unusual for either of your boyfriends' to stop by your workplace for various reasons. forgot your lunch, bringing you papers you needed, maybe repairs to their hero suits since your stitching 'holds up better than others'. still, this time you were the one to strong-arm them into both coming by. or rather, strong-arm katsuki, since eijirou had no issues in popping by when you called.

your work office was filled with used and unused mannequins, your main desk, a separate desk littered with fabric scraps, your sewing machines, and straight pens left, right, and center. there was also a quiant little loveseat with two comfortable cushions you have for visiting clients.

that very loveseat is where both your boyfriends' currently parked their asses. you standing in front of them with your hands on your hips and a tape measure gripped in your palm.

"i dont see why we need all new shit," katsuki groans, his arms on the back of the loveseat, looking away from your unimpressed scowl. eijiou curls his lips in to try- and fail- to conceal the amused look on his face.

you had called them both here because of the next hero gala. the dates were finally sent out to those permitted to attend, and both of their names were on the roster. of course, they would be going- mostly because katsuki's pr team begged him to- and since they got to bring plus ones along, you would also be with them.

the two of them have always been wearing store bought formal wear or renting suits, but this was literally your area of expertise! you would get measurements from the two of them if it was the last thing youd do before making them outfits they can freely keep for such occasions.

eijirou had no qualms about the whole process. in fact, his measurements went smoothly aside from him flexing his arms when you were trying to get their circumference.

"yes, you're very muscular babe, now relax your arm or so help me," was what he got in return to his playful tomfoolery. checking off his waist and hips was also filled with banter since at least three times he had hugged you and kept joking about how he wasn't just going to not when you were right in front of him. that would be far too many wasted opportunities.

katsuki had been scrolling on his phone the whole time eijirou was prolonging his process by playing harmless pranks and showering you in goofy affection as he does. you almost wished you had measured him last to get the stubborn fool that is katsuki over with first though.

now, here you stand, impatiently waiting for him to get his ass up and get started.

"katsuki," you warn, his head tipping back in a groan. "i've got all day," you tell him as if you weren't bothered in the slightest. you were though, and annoyed to boot. while you did in fact have time, that doesn't mean you want it to be wasted in a battle of wits.

"what's the damn point of taking measurements? we've got plenty of shit at home to wear."

"no, you don't. I do, but you guys have nothing properly formal enough for a gala, and im sick of renting suits when i can just make something and save some money in the process. do you know how expensive it is to rent a suit? no, because you're loaded, so up."

"i did enough of this kinda shit growin' up, i aint dealing with it when im not even livin' with my folks anymore."

you roll your tongue across your teeth, squeezing the space between your eyes with your fingers and holding yourself back.

"come on, kats, don't be such a fun sponge," eijirou tries to help. knocking him lightly in the side with his elbow, katsuki just huffs and looks at the nearest clock as if gauging when your workday was supposed to end and how long he can keep this up.

"fine," you heave, tossing your measuring tape at his chest before it flops onto his legs. "have it your way."

"that's what I tho-"

"I'll just call mitsuki and she can give me your measurements." there was a slight pause after your claim settles into the air you three occupy.

"what?" he almost sounded like he didn't believe you. but oh how serious you are.

"go on, shoo." you walk back towards your main desk with your computer and grab your purse where you start digging around for your phone. "i have a phone call to make, so go somewhere else if you're not going to be useful. oh, eijirou you can stay though if you want."

"hey!" katsuki, pulling his arms off the back of the couch, both offended that he was being kicked out while his boyfriend got to stay and miffed because- were seriously going to call his mom? over his measurements? god, who knows what else could come out of that hag's mouth if you call her asking for that. the last thing he needed was you and his mother commenting on how small his waist was or worse.

you plant yourself in your desk chair and pull over a notepad and pen to write down the oncoming numbers you would be getting one way or the other. katsuki springs from the loveseat when he sees the phone line start dialing from across the room against your cheek.

the phone rings twice and you're ready to apologize for calling in the middle of the work day when she picks up, but before you could your phone was ripped from your hand and away from your cheek.

"wha- katsuki!" you utter in disbelief.

"ignore this," he huffs before hanging up the call and tossing your tape measure into your face.

"take your stupid ass measurements, but you don't get this back for a while." the blond tosses your phone over to kirishima who had been gleefully watching the free entertainment. the red head catches it easily and safely tucks it into his pocket.

"traitor," you send his way across the room and he just shrugs.

"sorry, boyfriend's orders."

"that's right," katsuki backs him up with his arms crossed and you return the sentiment by jabbing him in the side with the back of your pen. "now hurry up, this offer expires soon."

"i hate you," you groan as you get up and untangle your measuring tape to start the process of finally getting what you needed.

"no you don't."

"i wish i did."

"liar."

"shut up, im concentrating."

he hates to admit it, but the group of coordinating matching outfits you three all wear to the gala weeks later was totally worth pushing your buttons for. plus, it was cute to rile you up sometimes.

(mitsuki did call his cell later that day to explain why it's incredibly rude to hang up on his mother. he hung up on her again.)

[wonik1ss]

౨ৎ Work Adversaries ! — minji kim

pairing — non idol!minji x reader song rec : my problem - jordi + passion fruit - nmixx ( 1.3k ) warnings ! none ᯤ ^ ㅇ ^ happy reading ! ⸝⸝・ᘏᘏ

synopsis : on a fateful Wednesday afternoon 2 people cut ties with you. but with cupid on your side you have 2 different paths to take to hopefully get back together with these 2 people by Valentine’s Day end! val event !

“Y/n! Please come into my office!”

As you walked over to your boss's office, you quietly prayed for the best. Because you were easily swayable, he always overworked you.

“Yes boss..?”

“It looks like Sewon’s out sick. Can you do her work as well as yours?"

You hated when people said, ‘Can you’. It's not like you had an actual option to say no. You never did. No more the three days after you joined the company were you getting tossed around like a hot potato.

"Y/nie, can you turn on the computer for me?”

“Y/N, can you grab coffee for the whole floor?”

“Y/N, can you bend backwards to make sure this gets done before the due date?"

No, please, no presents, no thank yous. Your best friend Hanni always told you to say no, but it was so hard. One time someone ran away after attempting to ask for a favor!

"Yes, boss, I’m on it!”

You took the papers, bowed, and hung your head low. Not even five minutes later, you heard a commotion. You looked up from your cubicle to see your boss with a stone-faced girl.

“Everyone welcome Kim Minji! She will be working with us from now on"

You all clapped, and then you turned back to your computer.

“Y/n-shi..”. That was Niri; she always knew you always had piles of work but still asked for help. Meaning you did half her work every day.

"Hmm, Niri, what’s wrong?”

“Can you show Minji-shi around for me? I have to pick up my kid". In which she meant her snotty little puddle named Princess.

“Ok, just come back quickly" Niri nodded and then proceeded to clock out.

"Hi, Mrs. Kim" As you turned to face Minji, she just stared at you blankly.

“Ok, um, do you know where your cubicle is?”. Minji pointed to the one next to you.

"Ok, do you want me to help you with a few of your assignments?”

“No thanks. Can you just show me how everything works on that? I don’t have one at home"

As Minji pointed to the computer, you nodded as she sat down in her seat. Throughly surprised that she could actually talk. You walked over to the girl and hovered over her to instruct her on how the computer worked. Once you were done, she bowed, and you did too. Gosh, did you need some coffee?

You walked over, noticing Kaito and Somi near the water cooler. Shit. They always need-

"Babes, can you take out the trash for us? It would be a great favor." Kaito smirked at you as she tilted your chin up to him.

“Sure Kai..”. The boy dramatically bowed, and his friend laughed while they both left. You sighed and walked over to the coffee machine. What dicks. After you made your coffee, you straightened your tie for war.

As you approached your cubicle, you titled your head. Half your stack of Sewon’s work was done. Maybe you did it in the five minutes before Minji was introduced.

Just as you sat down, Minji peeked out of her cubicle.

“You can just call me Minji Y/nie"

You nodded, and the girl tried to crack a smile. very broken at that. In the next few days, more and more of your work was miraculously done before you even thought about touching it. This day, you decided to catch the person. Yu Xi rarely asked you for anything, so as soon as she entered the office, you offered to do half of her work. She begged you not to, but you fought hard for it. The girl gave you her work and a big hug with it.

This time, you left it at your desk and ran to the break room. You peeled them through the window, waiting. Five minutes later, you saw Minji peek over your desk. Maybe she was looking for you. Two seconds later, she took half your work. In the few days you knew Minji, you only said hi and bye to her. Why was she doing this for you?

“Lunch is on me, guys! The project was successful, so I’ll treat you all." Your eyes darted to Kaito, standing at his desk. Everyone clapped, and the boss laughed, taking Kaito off the desk and giving him a big hug. It's not like you did all of his work for the last week, right?

Hours later, you were drinking tiny sips of alcohol with a piece of cake in a bag next to you. Unlike the others, Yu Xi always got you a sweet when she asked for something. So now you were sandwiched at the end of the booth, between Yu Xi and Minji. Kaito was wasted and told some stories about his dead ghost aunt.

So you took this time to turn to Minji. The girl poured and turned to face you.

“Minji”

“Mm?”

“Why are you doing my work for me?”. The girl's eyes furrowed, and she rolled her eyes. Did you hurt her in a past life?

“Yeah, none of it is your work.”

“But-“

“It’s the work of your lazy coworkers". You knew it was true, so you just nodded.

“Thanks Minji.. I’ll try to say no". Then, for the first time ever, you saw Minji genuinely smile.

“It’s ok.. I enjoy your reaction when you see it’s already done"

You laughed, and just like that, you had made your second actual work friend. You slowly started to say no to some of your coworkers, and as a result, Minji treated you every other day. It even got to the point that Hanni even met her.

“Minji!”.Your face dropped. Minji wasn’t in her cubicle. You pouted and sent her a quick text: ‘U ok, Minji?’. You check two hours later and there is no response. Two days later, Minji showed up. Bags under her eyes, her hair tied up. You ran over to her, engulfing her in a hug.

"Minji, are you okay?" As you pulled away, all the taller girl did was blink twice and go to her cubicle. That’s how you ended up crying in the office bathroom stall. Until you heard a knock.

“Someone’s in here!”

“I know! Can you come out?" Weirdo

When you walked out, a tall girl dressed in all pink greeted you. Pink glasses, pink bag, pink suit, skirt, and heart eyes?

“Hear my card." You grabbed the card out of the girl's hand and laughed. It said ‘cupid 101’.

“Is this some kind of joke because Valentine’s Day is next week?”

“No.. I’m cupid.. the 101st actually." The girl pushed up her glasses. Just then, two girls walked into the bathroom. The taller girl cracked her knuckles and shot an invisible arrow at them. The girls turned to each other and started to make out. One pushing the other into a stall.

“See!”. Your eyes grew big.

“Why, why are you talking to me then?”

“You messed up! Minji’s your soulmate! Not platonically, and I’m here to help you fix your mess!”. Seeing as you were stunned, the pink girl spoke again.

“I’m Wonyoung, aka Cupid 101, and I’m going to make you go back in time with the knowledge you have now and fix the mistake you made with Minji.”

“I didn’t make a mistake!”

"Ya, but you made someone else.. butterfly effect, you know." The girl turned around in the mirrors and applied lipstick to her lips.

“What if I say no?”

“You’re alone for ever, duh." The girl said she was looking at you through the mirror.

“So what are you choosing? I got three other clients, girl." Wonyoung tapped on her pink watch.

“Yes?”. Wonyoung smiled.

“Good luck”. Suddenly, you heard a stall open, and you turned to see the two girls leaving the stall. Then Wonyoung was gone. Wonder when the traveling back will

“Y/n-shi! Please go to the cafe and get us lunch, please." Then you were suddenly five days back in time. The devil works hard, but Wonyoung works harder.

[dairy-farmer]

Tim is owned by Wayne Enterprise. Maybe he was acquired after a Drake Industries takeover, or maybe he was purchased outright by the corporation. Either way, Tim is company property and there’s a collar, microchip, barcode tattoo, and papers all showing his status.

Legally, Tim is just another object. Socially, he’s as low or often lower than a pet. People love pets, after all, more than they love their favorite furniture.

Being owned by a company instead of one person is much less intimate. Tim can’t connect with an owner, can’t dote on them or be extra good to earn privileges. Instead he’s listed in the WE systems as an asset, like a printer or a company car.

He’s inventoried to one of Lucius Fox’s PAs, who’s responsible for keeping him fed and healthy, and checks him out to whoever is responsible for him that day. He gets gifted to high performing employees and is on a rotation with department heads. He’s a team reward after big important projects are finished. Supervisors can submit their employees names to give them a chance to get some time with Tim. He’s under the table sitting board meetings and acquisitions. He’s used as a prop and incentive for important meetings with other companies.

But most often he can be found on the executive floor. The same floor he’s stored/quartered in for easy access. If he’s not scheduled for an event or a lower level day, he’s usually with Bruce Wayne or one of his sons. They’re in very stressful positions, and Tim is for the company’s benefit. Dick oversees PR, Jason the outreach programs, Damian is heading R&D, and Bruce oversees it all.

Tim serves them (and anyone else he’s loaned to) however they want. Kneeling under the desk, bouncing on their lap, bent over the table, any way they want him. He’s got his little dress that displays his tits with a short ruffled hemline that’s easy to flip up over his ass. He’s used every day, multiple times a day. Tim has no idea how many hours he’s spent keeping a Wayne’s cock warm. Board meetings leave him well used and exhausted.

Profits have only gone up since he was acquired. And since he hasn’t ever left the building-company policy forbids it- there’s been a lot less “sick” days taken by the executives. Even Brucie Wayne stopped playing hooky so often.

Tim’s just glad that WE is the one that ended up buying him. He could’ve been purchased by LexCorp or Queen. He can’t leave the building, but at least he’s still in Gotham. And his life is a lot less stressful since all he has to do is what he’s ordered. There’s nothing to overthink now. He finds he quite likes getting fucked. He’ll do anything, and has done everything, to keep the Waynes satisfied.

!!!!!!!!!!!! tim being sold to wayne enterprises when drake industries was being liquidated and cut up to be sold by the slab!!!!😍😍😍😍😍!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! him being the little office play toy and spending his days rolling around on a little mat on the floor of bruce's office, getting fucked by bruce and his sons that have started visiting WE everyday to have lunch with bruce and fuck tim 💖💖💖!!

[sjsmith56]

Customer Service - Part 2

Summary: Bucky makes it right with his former girlfriend. Second part of two part story.

Length: 3.8 K

Warnings: Angst, acknowledgement of emotional distancing.

<<Part 1

🔹 🔹 🔹

It had been several weeks since Bucky bought his suit at the store where I worked. He picked up the trousers that had been hemmed, waiting until I went on my lunch break to take them, so that we didn’t meet. Even though it was what I wanted, a part of me was hurt that he didn’t even try to see me. The suit looked good when I saw the TV coverage of the White House visit showing the Avengers receiving their commendation for a difficult mission that was successfully completed without the loss of life. Fashion blogs singled him out for the black monochromatic look he wore, saying it was obvious he had a professional stylist help him look so handsome and debonair. It was flattering and devastating to me at the same time. I knew I was good at my job, but I also knew that by remaining coldly professional with him I likely destroyed any chance of ever reconciling with him. C’est la vie.

We did notice an uptick in sales after the fashion blogs took note, as someone connected to the Avengers PR team mentioned our store, and the excellent customer service Bucky encountered in his search for a suit. The store manager was pleased, commending me for taking advantage of the lucky opportunity to sell a suit to an Avenger as well-known as Bucky Barnes. If he only knew the truth, that I only did it so I could see my former boyfriend once more. Then I noticed a couple of the other Avengers showing up, some of them like Joaquin Torres and Peter Parker browsing in the men’s wear selection, shyly waving at me when I became aware of their presence. Others, like Yelena Belova and Kate Bishop trying things on in the women’s wear or makeup departments. If I had been a suspicious person, I would have thought they were spying on me. But I wasn’t and they weren’t, at least not in the way I was expecting.

It wasn’t until I became aware of the celebrity gossip shows promoting the appearance of Bucky at several premieres and fashion events with some starlet on his arm that I understood why they had been at the store. As long as I was unaware of what was going on everything was alright. But as soon as Bucky moved on, I wasn’t alright; I wasn’t happy at all. When Sam showed up just before my lunch hour one day (with suspiciously accurate timing) I knew he was there for me.

“I’m fine,” I said to him, when he presented himself near the staff room door to intercept me.

“You’re not,” he said bluntly. “You’re allowed to leave the store for an hour, right? Come with me and we’ll talk. I’ll buy you lunch.”

Five minutes later we were in a small café, our hands around a couple of cups of coffee and an order placed for a Cobb salad for me, and burger with fries for him.

“Ever since he showed up at the White House wearing the suit you chose for him, the PR team has been pushing him to be more visible,” he said. “Apparently, he’s got the hottest look going for men right now and they want to take advantage of him being the first one to show up in public like that. He’s not dating any of them. In fact, he doesn’t even like doing it.”

“Could have fooled me,” I said. “Not that it matters since we broke up months ago. He’s free to see anyone he wants.”

“He doesn’t want anyone else,” declared Sam. “He only stayed away because that’s what you wanted; what you indicated the last time he saw you.”

“I know that,” I answered. “I created a monster. Now I have to live with my creation.”

He breathed out my name, but I just glared at him. Even though seeing Bucky out with those other women hurt, I knew objectively that he had no obligations to me, just as I had none to him. We were both free agents, free to do what we wanted or see whoever we chose to see. The fact I hadn’t even gone out on a single date since we broke up was beside the point. I could go with whoever I wanted, once I was ready. Sam gamely tried to make me feel better and even tried again to convince me to speak with Bucky, but I was pretty adamant. We were done. Taking some cash out of my purse for my part of the bill I left it on the table.

“Hey, no, this is my treat,” said Sam, putting it back in my hand. “Please, just think about things, will you?”

“You know, Sam, I would,” I said. “It’s just that when we were together, he never wanted to go out in public with me. Said he didn’t like the attention. I only wanted to go out maybe once a week to dinner or a movie and he wouldn’t do that for me. Yet, he manages to go out for the PR people several times a week with different beautiful women, meeting celebrities, rubbing shoulders with the famous people, people who don’t even matter to him. What does that say to me, the woman he supposedly loved. He needs to get his priorities straight, don’t you think?”

Sam’s face fell as he didn’t have a comeback for that because it was true. When I stepped outside it was raining which was just great, as it totally added to the crying I was trying not to do. By the time I got back to the store I had to excuse myself to the ladies' room and fix my makeup before I was presentable again. I threw myself into my job and tried to put any thought of James Buchanan Barnes out of my head.

That lasted another week until I was on the late shift, helping to close down the store at 9 pm. As a manager, it was my responsibility to go through the various departments, confirming that every till was closed off, the empty cash drawer left open to indicate the employer had bagged the money, minus the float, and taken both upstairs, where another manager confirmed they turned both amounts in. Security had already shooed the customers out, although there was always one or two who showed up with a minute or two left until the store closed, insistent they could get what they wanted quickly and at no inconvenience to the staff. Fortunately, the security staff were under strict orders to refuse entry to anyone arriving up to 5 minutes before closing, citing store security policy. A few years before someone had showed up, then hid in a storeroom and waited until they were certain they were alone, in an attempt to rob the safe. They weren’t alone, as the security system picked them up as soon as they exited the storeroom. By the time they made it up to the office the police were waiting with drawn guns.

It was 9:30 by the time I finished my duties and grabbed my purse and jacket, ready to take the train to my apartment, almost an hour’s ride away. I was tired, both emotionally and physically. After saying goodnight to the security guard on duty while he let me out, I headed towards the subway station when I heard my name being called. Turning around I saw Bucky, leaning against a car that was parked on the street. With a sigh, I approached him.

“What do you want?” I asked, knowing I was sounding abrupt, but I was too tired to care.

“Just to talk,” he said. “Get in, I’ll drive you home.” I looked around, trying to think of something, anything to say to him, as to why that wouldn’t be a good idea. “Please.”

He held the door open for me, waiting to make sure I was buckled in before he closed the door then he got behind the wheel and started up the car. Smoothly, he pulled into traffic and headed towards Queens. The sound system was on, connected to one of his jazz playlists. Turning it down so that it didn’t overwhelm us he drove quietly for a few moments.

“How are you?” he asked, finally.

“Fine.”

“Sweetheart, I know that fine means a lot of things, but it usually isn’t something good. Please, talk to me.”

“Alright, if you want to know the truth. I’m not fine. I work, I go home, force myself to eat something, then I watch TV until I fall asleep in front of it. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and drag myself to bed and other times I don’t, waking up in my clothes the next morning. Then I shower, force myself to eat breakfast and go to work. That’s my life. Satisfied?”

He breathed heavily, almost angrily, although his face seemed more upset than angry.

“Sam told me he talked to you.”

“And? What more do you want me to add, Bucky?”

“It wasn’t my idea to go out to these events,” he said. “It’s an obligation I would rather not have.”

“Right, yet you still do it. I only asked for us to go out on occasion like a real couple and you didn’t feel any obligation to do it for me, but you’ll do it for PR people. Did you not want people to know we were a couple?”

“Did you?” he countered. “I noticed that you didn’t say anything to the people you work with that we were a couple once upon a time. Were you ashamed of me?”

“No, I wasn’t,” I snapped. “I didn’t say anything to them because they’re a bunch of gossips who would have bugged me constantly for any juicy tidbits about the Avengers.” I looked out the window, shaking my head, while I trembled inside. “I didn’t need that in my life.”

Bucky looked away for a moment before looking at me. “What did you need? Because I feel there were a whole lot of things that I obviously didn’t know you wanted or needed. What did I miss?”

I knew if I started listing things that I would start crying so I said the only thing I could think of. “Everything.”

He looked stunned before he pulled over to an open spot, parking the car. Then he turned to me.

“Darlin’, look at me.” His voice was so silky and soft. When I turned towards him, I could feel the tears streaming down my cheeks, unchecked. “I’m so sorry that I hurt you. I honestly thought I was holding you back.”

“You see, this is why … I couldn’t do it anymore,” I cried. “You were so unavailable to me, even when we were in the same room. You didn’t tell me things; didn’t say anything about your thoughts or fears. I thought I wasn’t that important to you. I thought that what we had was physical more than anything. So, I withdrew as well, trying to protect myself from how much it hurt.” I looked at him, feeling the pain on his face in my gut. “Aren’t we a pair?”

“Is there any chance to make it right? I don’t want anyone else; I never did.”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I want to believe that I matter to you, I really do.”

I undid my seatbelt and opened the door, unable to take any more of it. Before I had even gone ten feet, Bucky was in front of me, blocking me from going any further. Every move I made to get past him; he countered it. It was too much, and I broke down completely, wailing like a baby. He enclosed me in his arms at that moment and held me, stroking my hair and rubbing my back, just letting me cry it out until I was spent. When I stopped crying, I didn’t know what time it was, or where we were. All I was aware of was the warmth of his body and the sound of his heart pounding as I laid my head against his chest. Then Bucky murmured something, and I wasn’t sure I heard him right, so I looked up at him.

“What did you say?”

“I said, let’s go home,” he repeated, looking into my eyes.

“Which home?”

My place was still quite a drive away in Queens. When we broke up, he had been living in a small flat in Brooklyn. It wasn’t the nicest place, but it was what his Army pension and a government stipend could afford. With a smile he kissed me.

“I have something to show you,” he said quietly, gazing at me with those blue eyes. I started to ask for details, but he placed his fingertips on my lips. “Let me show you, then you can ask me anything.”

Just the way he was looking at me, so softly and sweetly, I knew it was something important. We got back in the car and were soon on our way to Brooklyn. On a street in Prospect Heights, Bucky slowed up, then parked in front of a brownstone that had scaffolding set up in front of it. He turned the car off and pointed to it.

“With what I make with the Avengers and my lawsuit settlement finally coming through I decided to invest in a home. It needed some work as it was used as a rooming house for a long time. New plumbing, flooring, HVAC, windows, and then when it’s finished, painting and furnishings. Would you like to see it?”

I could see that it meant a lot to him, so I nodded, and he came around to open the car door for me, offering his hand to help me out, still very much a 1940s gentleman. He followed me up the steps then entered a number in the keypad which unlocked the door. Turning on the entryway light he stepped back to allow me to enter first. The floors were covered in a layer of protective paper. The walls had been refinished but still needed a final coat of plaster, then paint, and the windows needed trimming, but the lighting fixtures were up and as he turned them on, I could see that it would be a lovely home. He showed me the kitchen and unlocked the door to a terrace that led down to a small patio area with a shade tree. Returning back to the house we went upstairs to the second floor which had two bedrooms, one of them a large master with an ensuite bathroom and walk-in closet. The stairs led to a third floor with two more bedrooms. All of them had hardwood floors and had been painted in a soft grey colour. As we headed back down to the living room area, he told me more.

“The basement has an office and a workout room. I’ll need somewhere to stay fit.”

I looked at the back of his head, as he descended ahead of me on the stairs, puzzled by the last comment because I knew that Stark Tower had the best in terms of fitness facilities.

“What’s going on?” I asked. “Why are you showing me this now?”

He stepped out into the living room area, took a breath, then placed his hand on mine, playing with my fingers.

“When I agreed to be part of the Avengers, I never envisioned being in a relationship with anyone,” he began. “I thought it would be enough to pay back society for what I did as the Winter Soldier, maybe date a bit, and then someday, buy a bar somewhere on a tropical island and finish out my days there. Then I met you, and it threw me for a loop. I didn’t handle it well, convincing myself that you would realize I wasn’t a good bet. So, I held myself apart from you. I guess I was deliberately sabotaging our relationship, trying to see how far I could push you away before you left. Well, I found out and I hurt you in the process. I hurt us both because I rationalized that it was all for the better. Then I saw you again, at the store.”

“Sam told me you were there deliberately, to see me. You bought those boots on an impulse so you would have an excuse to come back.”

He didn’t deny it. “All those times you offered to help me buy a nice suit and I turned you down because I thought you were just being polite. Then I needed help for real and you were so detached and professional, that I figured it really was over between us. When the PR people said they wanted me to be out and about, showing how I had evolved from this jeans and T-shirt guy to someone who could represent the organization I said yes, thinking I should be a better team player. The others kept telling me you were hurting after the first PR pictures and videos came out. They could see it every time one of them came into the store then you admitted how much you were struggling to Sam. It just all came to a head how unfair I had been to you.”

“Tell me,” I demanded. “Tell me how you’ve been unfair. I want to know if you realize what you really did.”

He had the decency to look embarrassed. “I know that I wasn’t good at telling you how much you meant to me. When we were on missions, I know I should have called you or texted you more, just to say I was thinking of you and couldn’t wait for when I got back. It wasn’t fair asking you to look after me when I was hurt. I tried to rationalize it by convincing myself that because I would be healed the next day that it wouldn’t bother you, but it did, didn’t it?” I sobbed out loud then, and his face broke. “I guess the worst thing is that I was being selfish when I didn’t want to go out. Part of me tried to say it was time devoted to you, but the truth was that I was afraid to be out with you; not just because I was afraid of people judging me, wondering why I should have someone like you in my life when I’ve taken so many lives. There was hate mail, threatening to hurt my loved ones.” I stopped crying, as this was the first that I had heard of it. “So, I rationalized staying home so I could protect you, not thinking that it made you feel trapped.” He touched my face with a worried expression on his. “How am I doing?”

“What does this have to do with buying a house?” I asked. He took another deep breath.

“I’m retiring from active duty,” he said. “They’re recruiting a bunch of new people, some of them kids but with powers that make me look like a stick in the mud. In many ways I am a stick in the mud. I like my 40s music, I don’t get reality TV, and I haven’t had a break since 1943. I think I’ve earned the right to have a private life. I’ll still help train these new kids, and if there’s a big mission, I’ll consider going on it, but I want a home, and a family, with a wife and kids, and a dog, and a cat … all of it.”

“What else will you do?”

��Get my GED, go to college,” he replied. “Maybe be a house husband, cook the meals, clean the house, and look after my kids while my wife continues on her career, if that’s what she wants to do. I’m in a new century and there are parts of it I want to embrace as long as I have the right person with me.” He was touching my face again, with his fingertips just brushing against my jaw. “I asked you earlier what I could do to make it right. I already knew the answer. I make you the focus of my life. It’s all about you and should have been from the start. Let me make you happy, let me show you every day how much you matter.”

I wanted to believe him and by the look on his face he wanted me to believe him as well. He bought a house, a big one, to fill with love and laughter, children and pets, and he bought it for me. Not only that, but he was also willing to retire, and start doing something else with his life; embracing the life he wanted in the 1940s but wasn’t allowed to have until now, if only I was willing to embrace it with him.

“You know, I was thinking of getting out of retail,” I said. “The hours aren’t great for relationships, from Thanksgiving on through the New Year the crowds are ridiculous, and customer service isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be. I’m at a point in my life where I’m ready to try something different.”

“Like what?” he asked, a soft smile on his face.

“Like marriage and a family, and a husband who adores me.”

“I can provide that,” he murmured, his arms moving around my waist. “If you’re sure that’s what you want, then I’m more than willing to help you get it.”

“Is that a proposal?” It became very still at that moment.

“No, but I can do that, too,” he said, not missing a beat. “That’s a promise.”

Our lips met then, and he poured every bit of his love for me into that kiss. We stood in that unfinished living room, the smell of plaster still in the air from the first coat put on the walls. There were no window coverings so anyone passing by would have seen Bucky Barnes and some woman kissing like there was nothing else in the world pressing upon them. When I got into his car after work, I was certain that this was it, the end was coming, and whatever was keeping us apart was too big to overcome. Instead, I found someone who wanted what I wanted, and was willing to change his life to make me happy. If he was willing to do that, then so was I. I never wanted him to quit the Avengers for me, but it was always going to be an option now, a choice that we could make together, when the time was right. The timing was perfect.

Short Fiction Masterlist

Please reblog if you liked this.

[bullet-prooflove]

If you’re still open to writing for Douglas Hamilton:

“You lean in closer and my heart starts to pound”

Tagging: @kmc1989 @lucymalfoy18 @ashrionest @mimi-8793 @glamourous-eloquence

Companion piece to:

Mississippi Meanders - Douglas doesn't expect to meet the love of his life.

Your first date takes place surrounded by a myriad of art supplies. Douglas is standing amidst the mess with his sleeves rolled up and his hands on his hips as he surveys the task at hand.

These, you think, are the moments his PR person should be documenting. The ones where he’s genuinely immersed in the community instead off the staged bullshit she puts together.

It’s been a couple of days since the two of you ran into each other during another charity event. You’d given your number to Douglas last month and not heard a thing from him, you didn’t understand why.

“Why didn’t you call?” You’d asked him when you’d found yourself standing beside him at the bar.

“Because you were too good to be true.” He’d told you frankly.

Its in that moment you gain an insight into the Mayor that you’ve never really considered. Douglas, he comes from a world where everyone is vying for his attention, his favour. Every single one of them takes from him, but they never give. You can’t imagine what that must do to a person’s psyche.

“I could list some faults if you’d like.” You’d suggested as you’d taken a sip from your drink. “Take a step down off that pedestal you’ve put me on.”

He’d laughed then, not that wry chuckle he usually does to appease a constituent but a real one, one that comes from somewhere deep down in his chest. He relaxes after that, you can see the pressure of his position slip away and for a moment he’s just Douglas, the man, not the Mayor.

It’s the appearance of Martha, his PR person that changes things again. She appears by his side, taking his arm, drawing him away and he sighs before he casts you a longing look.

You don’t expect to see him again after that, his mind seemed made up when it came to the nature of your relationship and there’s no point chasing someone who doesn’t want to be caught.  

When he turns up at the museum the next day you’re surprised. You’re setting up for a kids art program you’ve been running the last few weeks, clad in jeans and an old t-shirt that declares your love for Frida Kahlo instead of your usual power dress and high heels.

“I thought we could have lunch together.” He declares, leaving his entourage at the door and you gesture to the space around you regretfully.

“What if I helped you?” He’d asked you, already stripping out of his jacket. “We can eat after?”

“I’d like that.” You tell him before you get to work.

It’s a quicker and easier task with the two of you working on it. You finish up with thirty minutes to spare and find yourself sitting on the sensory blanket you’ve laid on the floor eating sushi with the Mayor.

“What changed your mind about me?” You ask him, setting the empty tray aside and popping the complimentary mint in your mouth.

“I made a list of your faults.” He teases you as he sets his own meal aside. “Honestly though it was the fact you say what’s on your mind. I never have to second guess what you’re thinking, or look for the barb in the nicety. You’re upfront and I like that, it’s rare in my world.”

“It’s rare in my world too, there’s a lot of subtext in the art world.” You tell him as you organise the litter into a neat pile. “It’s exhausting.”

“It is.” He agrees, his elbows coming to rest upon his knees as he studies the mobile above him. It’s one the kids have made out of coloured tissue paper, glue and glittery string. “The reason I got into politics was because of programs like this, my home life wasn’t exactly stable growing up and art was great outlet for me to vent some of the stress I was feeling. It was something I could lose myself in when…”

He stops himself then because he doesn’t do this. He doesn’t talk about the past, about the fact his father, a well-respected police man used to beat the hell out of him and his mother.

“…When you didn’t have a safe space.” You finish and he inclines his head, neither confirming or denying your summation. “I get that, art for me was…”

It’s at that second that the clack of high heels on tile interrupts you because Martha the PR Rep is back, already moving him on to his next appointment. He sighs remorsefully as he raises to his feet, helping you to your own.

“Don’t let yourself lose that safe space.” You tell him as you raise up on tiptoes and kiss his cheek. “No matter how busy you get.”

It’s later that evening he calls you, you’re just closing up the museum, when your phone rings with an unknown number.

“Hello?” You say as you cradle the phone against your shoulder whilst attempting to twist your keys in the lock.

“Have dinner with me tomorrow night.” He requests and you can hear the vulnerability in his tone. “Maybe we can talk about safe spaces some more.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[heyhihellosworld]

𝗢𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁

Rúben Dias x reader

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: You and Ruben where adamant to keep your relationship out of work but things don't always go according to plan.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, angst

Notes: First one I post about Ruben but kinda liked it even though it's kinda messy and all over the place.

"Is Y/N in today?"

Lucy shook her head with a crooked grin, trying to bite in a smug smile "She will come in an hour or so" she proceeded to tell the Portuguese who nodded.

"Don't make things up Lucy" he muttered but a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Oh I am surely not Mr Dias" she smiled back, sitting back on her desk chair as he straightened up "Well, have a good day" he mumbled before hurrying up the stairs.

You knew you were late as you rushed through the entrance of the building, out of breath and stressed out.

"A certain someone asked for you this morning" Lucy grinned as you stopped at her reception desk. Hands full of your working bag, gym bag and files that you needed to go through after failed attempts at doing it during the weekend.

"Who?" you questioned, putting the bags down on the ground as you breathed heavily, being late to work was a bad habit but it did make your fitness better.

"Who do you think?" Lucy chuckled, folding her arms over her chest like it was the most obvious answer.

"Uh-uh Ruben?"

"Ding ding ding" she grinned, tapping her finger on the desk in tact with the sounds she did.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the little smile that tugged at your mouth. "Don't give me that look"

"I'm not giving you anything I am just asking you a question and pointing out something obvious"

You shook your head, warning her to continue. "I'm gonna go work, see you for lunch?" you hummed, picking up your bags and starting of to the stairs while she laughed at you "Don't try to hide the truth!" she shouted tempting you to flick her off behind your back but you held back and settled in your office. Putting the bags on the small chair by the door before settling in the spacey room which you proudly called your office.

Working as a PR manager for Manchester City had been a dream so far. Only being on the post for a month short you still had a lot to adjust to and a lot to learn but it had all been going great so far. Finding new friends by the staff and also befriending a few of the players. It was your dream job and landing it at your age was a dream in itself.

You spent the morning working through files of different events and matches. Writing player profiles and interview-templates.

The clock was about eleven when a knock made you stop and welcome the person inside.

"It's open" The door shot open and Ruben appeared, his small smile and two coffee cups in his hands making you smile widely.

"Hi, I know it's pretty late but thought you might want some coffee" You couldn't help but smile foolishly big as the Portuguese sat down the coffee at your desk. "Thank you Ruben, it's very nice" "So.... what are you doing?" he questioned, peeking over your shoulder to get a look at your files.

"Well, right now I am writing some files for Nick to pass on to Lucy and Pep regarding the Christmas event and this is your player profile template" "Wow okay, didn't really get that.. wait, that's mine?"

"Mhm"

"What does it say?" he questioned and you chuckled at him, turning to look at him briefly before opening the file up to full screen, showing him the template.

"It's basically empty. I'm gonna have to go around and fill in this information later on, some of it will probably be filmed and all but I have just filled in the basics so far, like your name, birthday, birthplace and so on"

"Mhm" he hued as his eyes scanned the document. He looked ridicolously good regardless what he was doing, it was beginning to become almost a little bit annoying, like how could someone be so beutidul only doing something so simple as reading.

"Are you supposed to know my favorite movie?" he grinned at you, meeting your eyes. "Well I don't know Mr Diaz, are you supposed to know how I look naked? I don't think so but still you do" you mused back, grinning at him as he huffed. His hands rested on the desk, next to you as he leant forward, head tiling to the left to watch you.

"Don't put those images in my head" "You are not getting anything here, it's workspace" you muttered, turning back to your computer and continuing filling in some information in his profile.

"Favorite snack?

"Isn't this supposed to be filmed?" he questioned, "Well maybe but I should start posting this before we can even proceed with the filming so I need to get a few done before, well most of them plus these are not great interview questions"

Ruben hummed, reading through the page now open on your screen as you were thinking.

"Is Jack still here?"

Ruben tilted his head and tutted in disapproval "why would you want him?" You couldn't help but to chuckle at him "Because I want to post his profile?" "Why not mine?"

"Well because I think it would be better to post his first. He is a very popular player and his transfer was a really big publicity thing so I feel like it would get attention to the series of profiles that will occur"

"Post mine first" he grumbled, shaking his head at you while you chuckled "Come on, let me do my work and go find Jack for me"

"I will not"

"Okay, fine. Then I will go myself" you said, standing up from the chair and walking around the table, looking over your shoulder to smirk at his grumpy expression.

"Stop" he grunted as you reached the door, you stopped and turned to him with a smirk. "What? Can't I do my job?" you teased but he only shook his head at you, beckoning you over to him. "You can but right now you can not go and look for Jack" "Why not?" You laughed but still walking to him until you stood chest to chest.

His eyes had that fire they always held when he was in the mood but you had been strict in your rule that no sexual acts where gonna take place at work.

You had already broken that rule twice, once in the changing room after a red-card and another time in the media room after a dinner party.

But you were still adamant on trying to keep it as much as possible. "You shouldn't be so bratty" he murmured. You looked up at him with a chuckle "I am not bratty Ruben, I am trying to do my work and I think Jack is a great player to start with for the profiles and people love him. He is hot, strong and a great player" you teased.

He grunted at that, pushing you against the desk. "Don't stand here and say Jack is hot or you will have a problem"

"Hmm" you hummed as response, feigning thinking. "He is" "Stop"

You couldn't help but to chuckle at him as you patted his chest reassuringly.

Ruben didn't find it funny though. Grabbing your thighs and hoisting you up on the table, standing in-between your thighs and pressing up against you.

"You say one more thing and you will be in trouble" he hissed, pressing his fingers into your thighs. You hummed slightly mockingly, sticking your tongue out from the corner of your lips with a smirk on your face.

"You're just such a brat sometimes" he muttered, pushing your skirt up until it pooled around your waist. He roughly pulled your legs apart and pushed his hand into your panties. You let out a gasp at the rough treatment but you loved it.

Ruben stood with his back against the door, blocking what he was doing with his fingers from any intruders.

"Gonna make you cum in your office and then maybe you will stop being such a brat and maybe stop talking about fucking Jack" His fingers started to rub at your clit. You bit your lip tightly, trying to conceal any sounds that threatened to come out.

Two of his fingers plunged into you starting to pump furiously and making it impossible to stay quiet.

"Ruben" you whined, begging him to slow down. Pressing your face into his chest to try to conceal your moans and whines when he didn't. "Please stop. I can't keep quite" you whined, rocking against his hand.

"Try harder Gathina" he murmured against the shell of your ear, his hot breath trailing down your neck.

He switched between slamming them in and out of you and hooking them against your spot, his thumb never leaving your clit. It felt electric and you knew you would be close within minutes.

Your legs started to shake as you neared your orgasm, the sounds being louder and louder and in the end even Ruben decided it was too much, trying to muffle them with kisses. Swallowing all of your sounds. "You're so close aren't you" he smirked at you chuckling as all you could do was nod.

Just as you were right there a knock echoed through the room before the door swung open. Ruben detached his mouth from yours in shock making you let out a loud moan as you were so so so close to orgasm. Desperately trying to move away from his fingers as you heard the door open.

"Oi! What the fuck!" Jack screeched out quickly exiting the office and closing the door, standing outside the door, waiting until you were ready.

"Ruben stop!" you whined but he continued, only a few more pumps of his fingers was all you needed to release biting your lips so hard they almost bled to not moan too loud for Jack's ears.

You tried to calm down, get your breathing under control and when you did you panicked. "Ruben what the fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck" You whined, watching as he licked his fingers clean before placing his hands on your shoulders to calm you down.

"Calm down y/n it was only Jack it's okay" "It's not okay! You are not gonna fired for this but I am!" You argued, gathering your bag and computer before hurrying out of the door. ignoring Rubens call of your name.

You opened the door to find Jack scratching his neck but a grin plastered on his face. You turned to him, pointing a finger at him "One word about this Grealish, and i'm talking about anything. One fucking word and you are dead"

Jack's eyes wiedened as you stormed off down the halls.

He whistled as he walked into the office where Ruben still stood, closing the door behind him.

"Soooo" Jack chuckled, pursing his lips at his teammate who mirrored his smile and chuckle. "What did I interrupt" "Nothing" Ruben hummed, shaking his head. "Nothing pft, that's bullshit you were fingering her on her office desk!" Jack burst, eyes wide and voice high.

"Okay okay, but seriously. You cannot say anything to anybody. If you do she can honestly loose her job"

"Hey, I won't but if you wanna keep it a secret ya know, maybe don't finger her in the office" he advised, walking towards the door. "Tell her I will meet her tomorrow and talk about the module she have done" he tilled, grinning as he walked out of the door.

Ruben sighed, taking the spare key from the drawer and locking the door behind him as he made his way down the stair. He was done for the morning, having a break until three when training was taking place again. "Hey Lucy have you seen y/n?" he questioned as he walked down the stairs.

Lucy looked up at the man, a slightly nervous look on her face "Uh, she, I"

"Lucy" Ruben deadpanned, knowing she knew exactly where you were.

"She just left home but she didn't want me to tell you that"

Ruben sighed "Thank you Lucy, I won't tell on you"

She nodded in appreciation as he quickly walked towards his car.

--

When Ruben unlocked the door to your apartment you were sitting on the sofa, lazy watching tv as you worked with your files. You knew who it was the second you heard the lock rustle.

"I don't want any visitors" You shouted towards the hallway but you couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your mouth. The time on your sofa had made you calm down slightly, knowing Jack would never tell on you.

"Shut up" Ruben chuckled, stopping in the doorway to look at you, his arm resting against the frame and a crooked grin on his face. "Sorry for running" you hummed, settling your computer aside as he approached you. Leaning down to kiss your lips softly.

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't risk your job like that"

"Well I appreciate that but it's not like I didn't willingly spread my legs for you" you hummed jokingly. "Well no but still" Ruben smiled, settling down next to you on the sofa.

"It's all okay, we just need to talk about a solution. I don't wanna have to hide us forever"

"We will find a solution" he nodded in agreement, kissing your lips again, just as soft and loving.

[yelenasdiary]

Can I request a Scarlett fic where we are her spouse and she takes us to red carpets and things alike and during one of the interviews the interviewer is our childhood bully. We’ve told Scarlett about our childhood before but she’s never put a face to the name so at first she worried when we start acting anxious until the interviewer introduces themselves with their name as one of our old “friends” so she puts it together and just moves on leaving the interviewer with a side eye. Unfortunately there are still pictures people want her to take, and only her, so they ask us to get out of the shot, which we try doing only for her to wrap her arm around us more and pull us in “You’re my wife, not my plus one. You’re going to be in all my photos” Eventually she gets mad at the audacity some of the paparazzi have and just takes us home while kissing away our pout because we wanted to see some marvel friends that night and wanted some free sweets. That and we thought we ruined her imagine because later it’s going viral that “Scarlett Johansson is a rude celebrity” with just multiple videos of her ignoring the interviewer. To ease our worries she just says “Let PR deal with it”.

You're My Wife!

Pairing: Scarlett Johansson x Reader

Summary: Scarlett reminds not only you but the entire world who you are to her.

Slight Angst | Comfort | Fluff | Mentions of past bullying | 1.2K | 

AC: So sorry this took a while to get out, I hope you enjoy it! – I used Scar’s upcoming movie for this & I do apologise as I don’t know much about the new film! 

Scarlett loves taking you to her events, red carpets, movie premieres, business parties, all of it. She loved being able to show you off and honestly, you helped keep her nerves away. Anytime she started to feel nerves (which when she told you about it surprised you) all she had to do was look over at you and her nerves faded away.

You loved standing by your wife's side as she did her thing. Something about seeing the world stop for a moment and capture her beauty always made you feel so lucky that you always have that chance. 

With Asteroid City having its world premiere, you couldn't wait to be by Scarlett's side and supporting her. Everything was going well from the moment the two of you arrived, Scarlett held your hand as you both walked the carpet, stopping for a few moments so Scarlett could pose for the cameras before moving onto the interviewers.

You saw them from a distance, your childhood bully. The one who made high school a living hell, making up rumors about you, tormenting you daily, making sure you had nobody to sit with in class or at lunch. Your heart dropped when you noticed they were an interview and Scarlett was making her way over to them. You grip tightened in her hand the closer the two of you came closer. 

"Hi Scarlett, do you have a moment?" Claire, your childhood bully smiled kindly at your wife. Your eyes dropped to the microphone in her hand as you and Scarlett came to a stop. "Hi, of course" your wife smiled. 

You'd told Scarlett about the torment and hassles Claire gave you throughout high school and the affects her actions had on you. She knew of your bully's name, but you never bothered to show Scarlett a photo of her, never did you think this was going to happen, so you really didn't see a point. 

"Thank you! I'm Claire, it's lovely to meet you and Y/n, it's so good to see you again!" Claire looked between the two of you with a smile. Scarlett noticed how anxious you looked and how sweat began to pool from your palms, she looked back at Claire and held your hand a little tighter as she pulled you away from the situation. 

"Honey, you didn't have to-"

"I don't care. I'm not going to give her answers to make money from when she treated you so badly. She doesn't' deserve our time." Scarlett turned to you and gently brushed a lock of hair behind your ear. "But this is your job" you looked at your wife with a guilty feeling. "So? I don't have to do anything I don't want to do. I didn't want to answer her questions and I won't be" Scarlett assured you. Other interviewers called out for her to come over to them, but she didn't budge, not until she knew you were okay. 

"Thank you, baby, that meant a lot to me" you smiled softly. Scarlett returned the smile and placed a soft kiss on your lips before moving onto the next interviewer, making sure to give Claire a slightly side eye of disappointment as you both continued to walk away. 

Watching Scarlett do interviews was always something you loved the most at any event you went to, watching her talk about something she's worked so hard on, something she's excited about and seeing the sparkle in her eyes as she spoke was beautiful to you and you were stood by her side with pure proudness. 

As much as you were glad Scarlett didn't give your bully much more of her time, you couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable with Claire watching you and Scarlett from afar. She shook her head and rolled her eyes at you whenever you caught her watching the two of you. "Are you okay, darling?" Scarlett asked as the two of you were led to the center of the carpet again for photos. You nodded and smiled softly not wanting to worry your wife on her special night, but she knew you weren't okay and she couldn't help but hear what the paparazzi were yelling out. 

"Just Scarlett please!"

"Can we get you over please, Scarlett?"

"Can we get a few of just Scarlett please?" 

The camera's flashing was almost blinding as you tried to step away from the spotlight, wanting to give the paparazzi what they were asking for. Just Scarlett. But of course, Scarlett wasn't a fan of the idea as she wrapped her arms around you and gently pulled you closer. "Where are you off too?" she asked as she kissed your cheek, making you blush. 

"They need photos of you love, I'll just be over there when you're done" you explained while pointing to the end of the carpet.

"Y/n, you're my wife. You're not a plus one, if they want photos of me, they will get them with you beside me. I want you in all my photos and if they don't like that, that's their problem. I love you baby; I wouldn't be coming to these events without you" Scarlett assured you before pulling you closer and kissing you deeply. 

The two of you posed for the photos but the paparazzi were persistent on asking for solo photos of Scarlett, even after she kindly told them no. You could see she was starting to get frustrated with the level of low respect the paparazzi had for Scarlett and her answer to their request. "Honey, I love you but I'm just going to go other there wait for you" you spoke as you let go of her hand. 

Scarlett shook her hand and gently grabbed your hand and stormed off the red carpet without looking back. "Baby, what are you doing?" you asked in a worry. 

"We're going home, we don't need to be here. If they can't respect us, we don't need to be here. Besides, I'd rather go home and get into our pjs and cuddle" Scarlett opened the door of the limo for you. Who were you to argue with such a loving wife? A wife who has never once put up with the audacity of others being disrespectful to you or herself. 

The entire drive home Scarlett couldn't stop kissing your pouts away and telling you not to feel bad about you both leaving the event in a hurry. Her arms wrapped around you pulling you closer while she whispered how much she loved you between kisses. "But I was also kind of excited for the free candy and seeing the marvel crew again" you pouted at one point, Scarlett chuckled, "darling, I'll get you all the candy you want and how about we have the crew over for dinner next week?" she offered. You couldn't help but smile at the idea, "I guess that would be a lot more fun than a premiere" You pout but only because you knew it would earn you yet another loving kiss. 

The next morning you made Scarlett and yourself breakfast and hoped that Scarlett wouldn't see the headlines that circled the media. 

"Scarlett Johansson rudely leaves the red carpet!", "Scarlett Johansson's shrugs off interviewer with a glare!", "Is Scarlett Johansson Rude?" 

But no matter how much you wanted to make sure she wouldn't see them, she did and to your surprise, she didn't care about them. She came up behind you, wrapped her arms tightly around you and placed a kiss on your cheek, "Don't stress about them baby, let PR deal with it" she spoke softly as you poured her a coffee, "you're my wife, if they want me, they get you as well" she reminded.

Taglist: @red1culous | @bentleywolf29 | @splatasha-jumpinoff | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145 | @shin-conan-kun | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @apollo2907 | @wandaroman0ff  | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @ahintofchaos | @fluffyblanketgecko | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @youralphawolf72 | @natashamaximoff69 | @hehehehannahthings | @pandaemonium111 | @secrettoallofyou | @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss | @marvel-fan-2021 | @mmmmokdok | @riveramorylunar | @ripofflizzie | @scarsw1fe | @toldthatdevil | @itsmv3 | @katiemay-025 | @aphrcdtes | @natsxwife | @maria-403 | 

[sgiandubh]

An intimate lunch

Coming back to this particular C pic, which has sparkled endless comments, today (still very busy days for me & I gave in and binged TCND - this explains the ungodly hour):

Dots have been connected (there are, after all, alternative Keepers of the Dots, a sobriquet I am therefore relinquishing, thanking again the friend who gifted it to me). And comments -ranging from stan blindness to unreasonable conspiracy theories - have been written too.

Tellingly enough, the wording of the Finch and Partners IG post was quite suggesting: 'an intimate lunch' means more than promo, almost a personal get together with, at the very least, carefully selected people.

Was she coat-tailing? Very probably, to the extent she is understandably interested in getting more acting (directing?) projects after OL. And to make it clear: there is nothing bad to it.

Did she know Cooper before? There is no way in hell to confirm it with 100% accuracy, but my guess is no. Someone, as it has been pointed out, obliged. These are the simple, expected minimum benefits of a PR agent, a Rolodex and of networking. And it is true: she has been consistently on Finch's list and invited at many of their events since at least 2016. Which is to say, since IFH? Oh. OK. No further questions, Your Honor.

Was it a reward for dragging along McIdiot at that Netflix gala, the day before? Even taking into account her visible lack of enthusiasm, I am afraid things are not as simple and mechanic as alternatively dangling the proverbial carrot and stick. It's a quid pro quo, not a reward. A part in a movie would be a reward - not a lunch in town: that would be selling herself very cheaply.

But of course, we are all idiots, as this reaction from a particularly ungifted Mordor pundit would like us to think:

This post is not about S, of course. And the posited question is a superb logical fallacy: S is 'never invited to any of these events', because his side projects are different and his social media communication strategy is different, too. She was not there because of S and no one on this side of the fandom seriously suggested it.

Also, let's not show more idiocy than you are naturally able of, denizens of Mordor: Cooper did not really need her 1 (one) Academy Awards vote. And do you know why? Well, her vote would not make any serious difference among the 7,999 others, this is why:

Yes, the Britannica: I know it pisses you, and many other people, mightily off.

But perhaps she was there also because of this?

Enlighten me, please, since I am such a forgetful idiot, what on Earth might have happened to The Cut? You know, the project she was shooting just before the SAG-AFTRA strike began?

Crickets. And, which is more alarming...

If proven correct, this IMDb info is not very good news and I would be bereft for her. Honestly. Check the link: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt26697087/fullcredits/?ref_=tt_cl_sm. It lists the entire crew, up to the last best boy. Whatever happened to C's part? Whatever happened to C? The movie is now announced in post-production. Surely we'll know very soon, one way or another. But if her part has been slashed out, it's only normal to be more active and scout any possible project opportunity.

Ultimately, the core problem remains unchanged: since she did not post this picture on her socials, she is still as uninterested in them as she's always been. Always. And sorry for repeating myself, but spare some scarce mention about make-up and attire (presumably to be nice to personal friends), she does not engage with this fandom. At all. That does not leave her stans with many options but to write their own fanfic, while accusing us (who may know a bit more than them, at any rate) of doing the same.

Smart girl, C. I am sure S&C divided their respective roles in the 'Coping with the Narrative' in-house production for a very long time and this is the most important thing of them all. The rest is babble, including this post.

[anonymoushouseplantfan]

“Cdan is claiming she wants the lead in the rom com and is looking for who will play the male.” It’s bizarre to me that she won’t go to a charity event because she’s deeply insecure but masks it with “I’m too good for this” but at the same time wants to star in a rom com and launch an IG. Her acting has never been great and she’s not that interesting. It’s just odd that she’ll put herself out there for the things she has a poor track record in but hide away for the things she could be okay at. Meghan in small doses seems like the best strategy although that won’t bring in money.

This!

An article described her as “guarded.” That’s fine for a regular person, but how much reach are you realistically going to have as an influencer if you’re “guarded”? I bet a lot of prospective partners are asking that question.

And this pr drive is trying to address that by showing the kind of content she can do. But, frankly, it’s not an impressive showing. Dental appointments and lunches with hair colorists are not that compelling. She had a lunch with Cameron and Gwyneth where the celebs were not pictured, and now a Kardashian pic where she didn’t even show up. The calming patch got a lot of views, but only because everyone was so shocked at the obvious spon con. Heck, they even got the IG avatar wrong because someone mistook dahlias for peonies.

She’s not that good at this.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

One more thing I forgot to post re: Eugenie vs the Sussexes.

During the Platinum Jubilee when the Sussexes were doing the most to try to get pictures with the other royals or even to get them to Frogmore for LilD’s birthday, Eugenie would have been their natural and easy target ally.

Instead the Sussexes made a very public play for the Philips/ Tindalls. All the cousins were in the same room at Horse Guards, but the Sussexes were photographed variously with the junior Philips/ Tindalls and The Duke of Kent. The few Long lens pics into the room showed that no one was talking to Meghan or Harold except for one pic of Harold with Kent.

Then the Sussexes leave Horse Guards presumably to return to Frogmore, and miss the flypast. Eugenie posts lots of pics from the flypast which show that Zara, Beatrice are with her on a rooftop at SJP.

Later that afternoon/ early evening Zara, Mike, Beatrice, Edo, Jack and Eugenie are papped coming out of a London restaurant following group lunch, which Mike later revealed involved all the royal cousins+ spouses who weren’t on the balcony. Only the Sussexes don’t attend because they’d gone back to Frogmore. 

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-10896165/Mike-Tindall-reveals-outstanding-cousins-lunch-Harry-Meghan-didnt-attend.html

The next day the Sussexes put out PR about a birthday party for LilD which they claim was attended by the Philips/ Tindalls and their children, but the two families were very visibly at the races most of that day and the distance between locations to attend both events would have been impossible especially as the Philips/ Tindall families had booked London hotels for Jubilee weekend and centred all their activities in/ around London give or take afew miles outside it. 

***********

I do remember these well. 

I don’t think Harry and Meghan not being in Eugenie’s Trooping video (remember how pissed everyone got at her because Wolfie’s face was visible, when Beatrice and Edo hadn’t been showing his face? ah, good times) is because of the falling out. I think it was just the logistics the Queen/Charles had put in place for handling the Sussexes. It was implied that Harry and Meghan were only invited to the official ceremonial events, and once something ended, they were herded back to their car and sent home to FrogCott to wait for tomorrow’s event. So what happened at the service of thanksgiving (where they left in a car that took them to FrogCott while everyone else bussed over to the guildhall for the reception) is what happened after Trooping: everyone else was carriaged/bussed back to Buckingham while the Sussexes were sent home and then all the cousins decided to go out for lunch.

Supposedly that’s why they left early  - they were upset by how closely they were being controlled by palace handlers regarding the events, but knew they couldn’t complain (publicly at least) because they needed the optics of being with Lili for her first birthday so they could use the public spotlight to pressure the BRF into giving them the Lilibet Meets Lilibet photo.

Also it has been alleged that Anne was livid the Sussexes got the photo ops they did with her grandchildren. I have also heard that Autumn and Zara were upset too, which is allegedly why they bailed on the birthday party after promising to go (I’m not sure I believe this one because Zara absolutely would’ve already had plans with her family for the weekend). I think what really happened with the birthday party is Harry invited them, they said “we’ll let you know,” which the Sussexes interpreted as “yes” and thus all the PR.

[360degreesasthecrowflies]

The BBC is already not being impartial during the UK election 2024

I shouldn't even be surprised but here we are. So much for any kind of journalistic standard.

Those of you who were around for the last election campaign may remember at that point a far-right party member's claim, which was repeated uncritically and as if it were factual by many media outlets, that he was 'assaulted' by 'a youth on a bicycle' throwing a yogurt at him while he innocently campaigned for his party, which was an example of political violence against his beliefs.

Except it turned out that there was CCTV in the area and no 'youth on a bicycle carrying yogurt' was seen.

What was in fact seen, was the man in question had brought a packed lunch with him for his day out, which contained... a yogurt. Which he either accidentally or deliberately spilled on himself while campaigning, and then took the opportunity to report to his party leadership and the media as an assault, which was then spread around as if factual and it definitely happened, inciting sympathy for the poor innocent far-right people.

Well folks. They're at it again this year.

Here's a fun uncritical headline from the BBC that dropped today:

"Reform election candidate 'attacked' in Cornwall"

What evidence is given for this attack, I hear you ask, given that the BBC has reported it as a factual event in the title?

Well, the chairman of Reform, the party in question, has claimed that it happened, and has made a social media video stating that it happened. Three days ago.

Here's how the article describes it:

"A statement from Reform UK said Mr Rubidge, 51, was handing out election leaflets in Event Square when he was verbally abused by a man believed to be in his 20s. The party said that, as Mr Rubidge tried to leave the scene after two other men turned up, he had a bag he was carrying grabbed off him by the first man.

He was eventually able to "wrestle the bag" back off the man, but he was punched and kicked multiple times, leaving him with injuries to his ligaments, Reform added. The incident left Mr Rubidge shaken and shocked, the party's statement said.

In his social media video, Mr Tice said he was "appalled" after hearing about the alleged incident. He said: "This is no way of having a democratic debate and discussion. "We can disagree, but we don't fight each other. That's not what our democracy is about."

He added Mr Rubidge did go back on the campaign trail for a further four hours on Saturday."

Nowhere in the article (archived ver. June 18th 2024) does the BBC make clear that this is not an impartial account of what has been determined to have actually happened, but rather, a biased account from a political party representative that has likely been crafted in conjunction with a PR specialist in order to stretch the truth as far as possible in order to present the campaigner as innocent, a victim, and suffering due to his innocent political beliefs that are UNDER ASSAULT by vicious strangers who are JUST INTOLERANT for no reason.

The article, of course, comes complete with a smiling image of the campaigner in question, looking as innocent as possible. The article is careful not to mention any of the content of the leaflets that the campaigner was handing out which may have caused some backlash if, perhaps, the camapigner was also shouting about some of the content of the leaflets while handing them out in a city center at midday on a Saturday: for context, Reform UK as a political party want to ban ALL immigration to the country, to deport international students even if they have already paid for their education in the UK, to remove all unemployment benefits from citizens who are struggling, to stop investing in any kind of renewable energy sources, to get rid of all diversity and inclusion practices, and to ban 'transgender ideology' including the admittance that trans people even exist from all schools and educational institutions. They also believe that 'the majority of mothers want to stay at home' instead of working.

Going back to the article, apparently the poor campaigner in question who was definitely ASSAULTED HORRIBLY and completely UNPROVOKED ended up with 'injuries to his ligaments'. This is a serious injury and would be quite debilitating to deal with and would require immediate treatment and some bed rest and gentle exercise for days therafter to aid recovery.

Interesting then, isn't it, that the campaigner in question was then able to then keep campaigning for a further four hours with such a horrendous injury?

The BBC and other media outlets need to realise that this isn't a fun RPG or game of who can present something the most quickly to 'win', accuracy be damned, or a situation where it's fine to save time doing your own research by just repeating a political organisation's press release about an incident as factual, verbatim.

This is a real election, the only election that will happen between now and 2029. The BBC is supposed to be impartial. Reporting an alleged assault as if it were factual and exactly as described by somebody with an interest in making it out to be as bad as possible, and trusting that all readers will be able to read between the lines of what is said and understand that your write-up of the event is actually just reporting what someone else SAID about the event rather than an unbiased record is at this point in time EXTREMELY irresponsible.

Journalists, your job, especially now, is to report what's happening to inform the public. You can report what someone THINKS is happening, but only if you make very clear that you are doing so, and ideally only report that within a larger piece that discusses just the facts of the situation. It's okay if details are unknown - it's better to note that than to put anything in, no matter if it's been fact-checked or not. The BBC is publicly funded, it and its staff don't need to be the first on the scene to react or comment on any given situation, it's not like anyone's going to get more funding or any reward for doing that.

You can't claim to be impartial on the one hand and on the other, uncritically report something that a political party has a vested interest to lie about as if it were definitely and wholly factual. And the BBC keeps doing this, as if there's no way anyone could ever lie about a situation in order to advantage themselves.

Wake up, BBC.

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

The Bomb

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt, ex!Jake

Synopsis: Jake hasn’t healed even months after his ex-girlfriend Y/N said ‘I do’ to another man.

For a bit of context while I try and write what came before: Y/N is a super successful singer-songwriter although it’s not super relevant in this chapter. She has been close friends with the members of Greta Van Fleet, for several years. She had a loving yet terribly tumultuous relationship with Jake that didn't end very well (you’ll see), although they eventually figured out how to remain on good terms for everybody’s sake. But Jake was lightyears away from being ready to see her married to another man.

Warning: English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come. Also, I guess this fic could be triggering because it’s kind of really sad and angsty.

Previous Track: Happier than Ever

Chapter soundtrack : The Bomb – Florence + the Machine

"But if I was free to love you, You wouldn't want me, would you? Unavailability is the only thing that turns you on, Come here, baby, tell me that I'm wrong. I've blown apart my life for you, And bodies hit the floor for you, Break me, shake me, devastate mе Come here, baby, tell me that I'm wrong I don't love you, I just love the bomb."

Alright let’s get into this.

The Annual Benefit of the Barcelona Art Institute. The space was beautiful and the exhibition simply exquisite as Y/N wandered gracefully around the sumptuous halls of the venue, occasionally making small talks with fellow art enthusiasts, all the while enjoying a nice glass of champagne. She was deep in conversation with one of the curators about purchasing one of the paintings when she suddenly felt her phone vibrating in her purse.

‘Incoming call from Daniel’

Weird, she thought, it was late at night, and the band and her had already planned to have lunch all together the following day. They had, by some happy coincidence, found themselves in Barcelona at the same time and figured it would be a great opportunity to meet up, since they rarely got to anymore. The members of Greta Van Fleet were there for a concert and some PR business, while Y/N had flown out to attend a couple of events during the peak of social season. She softly excused herself and picked up right away.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey, YN,” she heard Danny’s voice, “Listen, I’m so, so sorry, I know that you’re at this Gala thing but, we kind of- have a situation over here…”

“You sound worried, is everyone okay?” YN asked, heading towards a quiet corner.

“Actually… no.” Danny said, “It’s Jake," YN's heart stopped, "he’s-he’s been acting weird all day and he just- kind of, um, freaked out a couple hours ago and walked out before the concert was even over.”

“Jesus, is he alright?” YN asked, a concerned look creeping on her face, “Is somebody with him?”

“Yeah, not really, he’s cooped up in his hotel room right now,” Danny replies, hesitation in his voice, “The staff is losing it, but he won’t let anybody in. He- he did, uh," he paused, "he mentioned you. Do you think- you could- come over? We wouldn’t normally ask but-”

“No, it’s okay, of course. Um, just- send me the address, I- I’ll be right there,” she hung up, racing out of the building, stilettos in hand, and immediately hailing a cab.

_______________

She rushed out of the elevator only to see the boys sitting at the end of the hallway, a defeated look on their faces.

“Y/N, thank god you’re there” Sam sighed in relief, jumping on his feet to greet her.

“Is he in there?” she asked urgently, eyes on the closed door.

“Yeah,” Danny replied, “he ended up opening the door, let Josh in, but- I don’t think he said much.”

Y/N walked past him and towards the hotel room. She knocked softly on the door before cracking it open, only to hear Jake’s gravelly voice shouting, “For crying out! I told you, I didn’t-”

 “It’s me,” she interrupted gently, venturing into the room. It was dark, but she still managed to catch a glimpse of what she assumed to be the outcome of her ex-boyfriend’s mood. Chair fallen over, open minibar and clothes scattered all over the floor of the luxurious suite.

Jake was sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around his knees and back facing her, but she could still see his shoulders moving up and down as tiny sobs seemingly racked through his body. Josh was on his knees in front of him, he looked up at YN as soon as she entered. Y/N gave him a weak nod as to indicate that he could leave. He got up and silently walked out of the room, making sure to squeeze her arm on the way out.

She let out a long sigh as she heard the door close behind her. What now? She decided to approach him slowly, the sound of her high heels against the waxed floor letting the boy know of her movements.

“Hey Jakey,” Y/N murmured, looking down at his shivering figure. But the boy kept his eyes on the floor, so she got down on her knees in front of him, “Danny called me… said you had a bit of a- a problem earlier.” She waited for him to speak for a few seconds but was only met with silence, so she carried on, “you know you can tell me any-”

“I, uh,” he interrupted with a hoarse voice, his puffy eyes finally looking up, only to see her all dressed up in her beautiful gown. “Fuck,” he sighed, “I’m sorr- you- you had your charity thing, damnit! I’m such a fuckup,” he started pulling on his hair, rocking back and forth slightly.

“Hey, it’s okay. I don’t- care about that,” she squirmed closer to him and delicately pulled his hands away from his face. Let’s just say she’d seen him looking better. “I care about you. Now tell me, what happened? The boys are worried out of their mind-”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, “I-I really thought I’d be okay, I thought I could handle it, but- but then-” he paused, “And- and I just-” he looked back down in embarrassment, only for his eyes to catch the delicate gold band that sat in all its glory on her finger. A sour smirk appeared on his face, “Jesus, I’m such an idiot.”

“No, you’re not, we all have bad days… You’re probably tired. I remember touring was always hard on you guys’ nerves,” Y/N said with a strained smile, her hand brushing the boy’s long hair away from his face, desperately trying to avoid the clear possibility that she was the one responsible for his current state. “Come on, let’s get you into bed,” she helped him up and took a few steps backwards to pick up some of the mess from the floor but before she could lean forward, Jake had her engulfed in a tight hug, taking her by surprise.

“Thank you,” he breathed out, and she could smell the alcohol on his breath. Whiskey. “For being here, I mean.”

“I’ll always be here,” she replied with a faint smile, hugging him back, “you know that, right?”

He rested his head on top of hers and inhaled deeply, taking in the citrusy scent of her hair, before burying his face in the crook of her neck. Y/N tensed up as she felt his nose travelling across her skin, his lips pressing soft kisses along the surface of her collarbone.

“Jake,” she whispered, trying to reason with the boy, “wait-”

“Please-” he moaned sadly, his voice breaking as he held onto her for dear life, “Just- just this one time, please- I just- I really need you right now.”

“Jake, you know I can’t,” she sighed, delicately slipping from his embrace, “I’m marr-”

“Don’t-” he hissed, stomping away from her to take a seat at the end of the bed, “Please- just," he gulped, "don’t say it.” She brushed her fingertips against the skin of her neck in an attempt to replace the warmth that had disappeared along with his lips.

The boy’s chest was heaving as he stared at her gorgeous figure, his gaze travelling across every exposed inch of her skin. The skin that was once his to touch. As their eyes finally met, Y/N felt in her core that something very wrong was about to happen.

He had that look in his eyes. The same look he’d had the very first time they’d- been together. Like she was the sun. Jake suddenly got up and walked up to where she stood. He grabbed her by the waist and planted a firm kiss on her lips. They were soft, just like they always were. Heaven, he thought. But that certainly didn’t last long.

She shoved him away with a resentful look in her eyes. “You’re drunk,” she said firmly.

“I’m not,” he retorted, “I mean, I’m more sober than I’ve been these past eight months.”

Eight months, she thought, Jesus, this had been going on since the ceremony. But her thoughts were interrupted as Jake walked back towards her and vigorously pushed his lips back against hers.

“Oh, cut it out, will you!” she yelled, pushing him away once more, this time with more strength, making his drunken frame stumble back.

Jake stood there, frozen for a second, while she stared down at the floor, remorse invading her every bone. She wasn’t only feeling guilty about the fact that she’d let herself be in that situation in the first place, but also that deep down, she still felt there was no place on earth she’d rather be.

He took a step forward hesitantly and placed a hand against her cheek, his calloused index finger travelling down to meet her chin, gently lifting her head and forcing her to look him in the eyes.

She placed a trembling hand against his chest, ready to reject him once more.  Her tiny fist was clenching the fabric of his shirt as she took in a shaky breath, mentally begging for the willpower to turn around and walk out the door. But he had the look. And she felt her heart breaking as she was met with his tired eyes. This was all her doing.

In a leap of faith, he gently lowered his head and let his lips brush against her cheek, before going on a painfully slow journey towards her lips. Now, this wasn’t like the two previous kisses. This one was tender. Desperate.

Unable but to close her eyes at the contact, YN felt her resistance slip away and swiftly wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, as he eagerly unzipped the back of her dress.

By the prick of my thumb, something wicked this way comes.

Next Track : Prayer Factory

Masterlist

Hope you liked it! This is going to be part of a long series and this is not even the beginning of the story, it just happened to be the first chapter I managed to actually finish, but I’ll make sure that it’s all easy to understand as I gradually post the rest. Please interact, people, always happy to get some reactions and feedback!!

[winterspiderpurrs]

I Don't Want To Set The World On Fire

Bucky and Sam were watching the crowd move around the room. It was for a charity event, meant to help fundraiser for local schools in need across New York. Whether its for supplies, building repairs and general maintenance, create safe places for kids before/after school and for affordable lunches.

So of course the Avengers were there.

" He was nervous all morning."

Bucky said to Sam before he took a sip of his vodka he had the waiter bring over to him.

" But he attends these all the time? Why now?"

Sam frowns a little and starts searching the crowd for Steve.

Bucky smirks and lean over to him,

"You know those dance lessons Tony got him for Christmas? Well he went. Mainly to prove a point but still."

" No shit? So he gonna dance with Nat tonight? Or Tony?"

Sam and Bucky both get a laugh out of that before, Bucky shakes his head.

" No but - listen here- he asked his TEACHER to come as his DATE tonight"

"No! Hot for Teacher Steve?"

"Who would of guessed right?"

They both turn to start looking for Steve in the crowd of people.

" Yeah he even went to Pepper for some reason, worried it could turn into a PR nightmare."

"Really? Well Sure it will be in the papers, but having a date isn't gonna shake up to much, even if he IS Captain America"

There seems to be a commotion amongst the crowd, people looking at their phones then looking around. They could already how the bright flashes of lights started going off like crazy outside of the doors. Looking at each other, they downed their drinks and stood up. Someone is gonna have to see whats going on and if Steve is involved then they need to be there to help him whether he needed it or not.

They didn't get far before the crowd separates a bit and in walks Steve, a nervous smile on his face, before he looks back and offers his hand out to the person behind him. Stepping around him was a young twenty something year old guy. Dressed in a suit, smiling brightly back at Steve, taking his hand and pressing close. The tension in Steve's shoulders melt a little, and his smile softens.

Steve leads them to the dance floor, and after a nod at the maestro of the band, music starts up. The sway and slow dance to the music, just staring deeply into each others eyes before, the younger of the two lays their head on Steve's chest as the continue to slow dance.

After the initial shock, the crowd has gone back to what they were doing before, some dancing, some just mingling amongst each other. Sure people were still talking about it.

" I'll be damned."

Sam and Bucky look back at each other before they make their way back to their spot at the bar.

"So… Did you know about this? Or…is this new?"

Bucky tilted his head and stared out at the two on the dance floor and smirked.

" Oh I knew. But Stevie…. was always very much in the closet. "

He waves the bar tender down and gets another drink. His smirk turns into a small soft smile.

" I'm glad he found someone worth coming out for."

Sam looks at Bucky, then back out to the dance floor at the couple then back at Bucky.

" Do you two ever… I mean"

Bucky shakes his head

" Nah, Could have at some point but we weren't there yet. Things were different then. And now too much has changed. We never acknowledged it then so no point in it now."

Shaking his head Sam sighs

" It's just a date… don't mean they are married. You could still have a chance if you wanted to that is."

Sipping his drink, Bucky smiles a little and shakes his head.

" No. With a song like that? This is serious"

Same frowns " Its just music? Whats the song?"

" I Don't Want To Set The World On Fire"

Sam gets his phone out and starts researching for the lyrics, his eyes widen.

"Wow…"

"Yeah.."

Hours later Bucky is flipping through his phone, he already did his reach on the dance teacher that Steve brought to the event. Peter Parker. Dance instructor- only gives private lessons now. Co-owners the school with his childhood best friend Michelle Jones. He also is an independent researcher under contract for SI. Probably how Tony knew about the dancing.

He was about to set his phone down but a notification went off. It was Parker's Instagram, there was a shot of Steve sleeping. He stares at it for a moment, gives a small smile before he turns the phone off and sets it aside.