#& takes care of events and PR for them.

[haideralikhan95]

[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

[bunnis-monsters]

Prettiest catch

Yandere!Merman x Fem!Reader

Bunni’s Monstertober Event

Oct 3rd

Oct 2

Oct 4

warning: dubcon, yandere behavior, breeding, kidnapping

summary: you explore a cave by the beach and find an isolated spot to swim, but little did you know a merman that has been watching you for a while is waiting for you beneath the surface.

Hanging out at the beach in early October wasn’t the most fun activity you could have done, but it was either walk along the beach and pick up shells during the fall when no one was around, or go home and watch TV.

Getting some air was good for you, that’s what your therapist had said. A little adventure was something to get you out of your rut and help you explore new possibilities.

So that’s why when you saw a cave by the water, you decided… why not! You were bored, wanted to explore and if something happened, at least you didn’t have to go into work tomorrow.

You were glad you wore your wetsuit when you felt a wave crash against you up to your thighs. The cave didn’t seem to be that big, so you figured you’d take a peak then leave and go eat something warm before going back home and washing your shell collection.

The ground was slippery, so you hugged the wall and moved slowly. You knew you were clumsy, and as you moved further and further into the cave, you were beginning to question yourself.

Why had you gone in there?

No one knew where you were and if you weren’t careful, you could hurt yourself and possibly die. Your body would never be found, and your family would be left wondering where their daughter was for the rest of their lives…

But your mind cleared of these doubts almost instantly when you reached the end of the cave.

It was lit up by glowing plants, perhaps mushrooms growing on the walls. A pool of water, clear and clean was at the end… though the dark side at the end of the pool did spook you a little, you couldn’t help but be captivated by the beauty of it.

Little fish and sea creatures swam and floated in the pool, some bioluminescence. “Aren’t these type of fish usually very deep in the sea? I’ve only seen them in videos…”

You marveled at the creatures, dipping your finger into the pool. Some of them approached, giving your hand a light touch before swimming away.

“Aww…”

They seemed friendly enough, and the water was pretty warm! It made sense, the cave was humid enough.

So this led you to make a mistake. You stepped into the water, sighing in relief as the chill of the October day fade into a pleasant warmth.

But you noticed something… off. While wading through the water, suddenly all of the little creatures began to scurry away and hide. Had you scared them? Now you felt bad…

It hadn’t been you that scared them, though.

You felt eyes on you, a predatory gaze of some hungry creature. You were being measured up…

“… hello?”

You glanced to the dark corner, seeing the water ripple slightly. Suddenly, you saw a pair of yellow eyes, the light reflecting off of them.

“F-fuck!”

You’d heard of salt water crocodiles, they were aggressive and territorial, you certainly didn’t want to be in the water with one!

But within seconds you were pulled under water. Whatever was after you was fast enough to get across the pool of water and pull you under before you could even think.

Just as fast as you were pulled under, you were pulled back up. Something pushed you into the rocky surface of the cave, and your ass felt cold as your wetsuit was torn.

Were you about to be eaten alive? You’d rather drown than feel teeth sink into your flesh and tear you apart!

But instead your legs were being spread, something toying with your hole in an amateurish way as if studying you.

Moments later, your thigh was being lifted up and pulled to the side, rotating you just enough so you could see what had you in its grasp.

The creature had scaly skin, but a humanoid appearance. His teeth were sharp and bared in what almost seemed like an aggressive display, his dark eyes staring down at you with a predatory look.

“Quiet…”

Something rubbed against your cunt, covering you in a sticky, almost gooey slick. “Mine…”

A strange purring sound rumbled in his chest as he rubbed his webbed hand along your belly. “Little mate… watching you for so long… mine…”

You cried out as you were speared with his fat cock, teeth sinking into the sensitive flesh on your neck. It felt sticky and cold, being fucked by this strange merman creature…

“My pretty little thing…”

He had been watching you for months, biding his time until he had you close enough to take, to breed you and keep his pretty little catch all to himself.

Now he was cumming inside, his scaly body rubbing against you as he continued to fuck you through his high. Your warm, gummy walls felt more amazing than he could have ever thought.

And he would never let you go.

After you were nice and exhausted from being bred, he nipped at your through, his long tail swaying in the water as he carried you to a far away island.

No one would find you there, and he could keep you trapped while you grew his young in your soft belly.

——————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat

[be4chywritez]

cat-sitter | max verstappen

max verstappen x roommate!reader

You’re Max’s cat sitter but maybe you were than that.

prompt: Fixing each other’s clothes (+ saying “you look good.”)

beachy’s masterlist🐚

request are open!

Max was always on the move, his busy schedule keeping him away from home more often than not. Jimmy and Sassy, were his babies, but their care became difficult with his constant travel. After a series of unreliable pet sitters, Max decided to find a live-in cat sitter, someone who could provide consistent care and companionship for his beloved kitties.

You, an animal lover with loads pet care experience, stumbled upon Max’s ad. The idea of living in a luxurious apartment while taking care of two adorable cats was too good to pass up, especially given the high cost of living in Monaco. After a successful interview and trial period, you settled in.

Jimmy and Sassy quickly bonded with you. Your affectionate nature filling the apartment with warmth. Over time, You and Max developed a close friendship, sharing stories and experiences from different worlds. The arrangement was perfect, and you were more than just a cat-sitter —you were what Max considering a close friend and maybe he developed a crush on you, but you didn’t know that.

- ✰ -

Max was getting ready for an important gala. The apartment was a mess multiple dress shirts and shoes thrown around, you lounged comfortably in your comfy clothes, enjoying watching TV with Jimmy and Sassy. Max emerged from his room, struggling with the buttons on his dress shirt, his cheeks flushed from anger, you assumed.

“You look like you could use some help,” you teased, noticing his frustration.

He glanced at you, a sheepish smile on his face. “Yeah, these buttons are impossible.”

You walked over and began to button his shirt, your fingers moving deftly over the fabric. Max watched you, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Thanks,” he said as you finished, adjusting his collar.

You looked up, your eyes meeting his. “You look good,” you muttered quietly, almost to yourself, as your hands smoothed out the chest of his shirt.

Max’s gaze softened, his expression warm. “You look good too,” he replied, his voice just as soft.

For a moment, you both stood there, the air between you thick with tension. Your heart raced, and you felt a flush rise to your cheeks. Both of you jumping apart hearing Sassy yowl, you smile softly.

“I should let you finish getting ready and go check on them,” you said, turning to walk away.

Max watched you, disappointment in his eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to come to the gala? It could be fun.”

You shook your head, a shy smile on your lips. “No, thanks. You go have fun.”

As you walked away, you could feel Max’s eyes on you. He sighed, feeling a pang of disappointment. The gala was a prestigious event, but the thought of going without you felt strangely hollow.

You sat down looking at Sassy and Jimmy who know stare at you, bored looks on their faces, “cockblockers,” you mutter turing back to your show.

Max came out, clearing his throat you and the cats turn around, Sassy scans him up and down then goes back to sleeping in your lap.

“So how do I look?” he asks, messing with his watch you scan him swallowing deeply, “Uh you look good, you’re going to have women all over you.” you say giving him a smile, his eyes light up you both stand their looking at each other before his phone rings, “it’s Yazmin,” he says, your heart drops to your ass.

Yazmin was a girl Max went on a few dates with but they never made it official, “She’s going by to the gala too?” you ask trying not to sound jealous.

“Uh yeah, great PR y’know.” he chuckles awkwardly, your smiles fades, but you nod.

“You should get going Max, traffic is going to be bad.” you say monotonely facing the TV.

“Right, you sure you’re good here?” he asks you only give him a nod, he sighs giving one last glance before closing the door behind him.

Max attended the gala, but his heart wasn’t in it. He mingled with the who’s who of the racing world, smiling for the cameras and making small talk. Yazmin clung to his arm, her laughter loud and her comments superficial.

“Did you see the shoes she was wearing?” Yazmin whispered to Max, pointing discreetly at a woman across the room. “quite hideous, don’t you think?”

Max forced a smile. “Yeah, sure.”

As the night went on, Yazmin’s became more apparent. She wrinkled her nose at a charity auction for an animal shelter. “Ugh, why would anyone waste money on stray animals?”

Max winced, thinking of you and your gentle way with Jimmy and Sassy. He excused himself and checked his phone, hoping for a message from you. There was nothing. Yazmin noticed his distraction.

“Max, are you even listening to me?” she snapped.

“Sorry, Yaz. I just… I need some air,” he said, stepping outside to clear his head.

Back at the apartment, you tried to focus on the show, but your mind kept replaying the earlier moment with Max. The way he looked at you, his soft compliment, and the unexpected tension between you left you feeling confused. Jimmy and Sassy sensed your unease and cuddled closer, their purring a soothing comfort.

You wondered how Max was doing at the gala. A part of you regretted not going, but the idea of seeing him with Yazmin had been too much to bear. You sighed, deciding to make the most of the quiet evening.

The gala finally ended, and Max found himself eager to leave. He looked around for Yazmin and was met with the sight of her sucking faces with a boy way younger than her. Upon closer look, he realized the boy was an F2 driver. Max grimaced but said his goodbyes and made his way back to the apartment, feeling a sense of relief as he stepped through the door.

The quietness of the place felt like a balm to his soul. Jimmy greeted him with sleepy purrs, his warm body weaving around his legs.

Max looked around, hoping to see you. He found you in the living room, the TV still on, but you were fast asleep on the couch. He smiled softly, feeling a surge of affection. You looked peaceful, one hand resting on Sassy, who was curled up beside you.

He approached quietly, not wanting to wake you, but Jimmy beat him to it, meowing loudly. You stirred, blinking up at Max with sleepy eyes.

“Hey,” you murmured, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “How was the gala?”

Max shrugged, his eyes never leaving yours. “It was okay. Missed you there, though.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words. “I didn’t think it was my kind of scene.”

Max nodded, understanding. “I get it. But it would have been more fun with you there.”

You both fell into a comfortable silence, the tension from earlier replaced by a warmth. Max took a seat beside you, his proximity sending a flutter through your stomach.

“You know,” he began, his voice soft, “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said earlier.”

Your heart raced. “What do you mean?”

Max looked at you, his gaze intense. “When you said I looked good. It meant a lot coming from you.”

You smiled shyly. “Well, you did. You do.”

Max reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “And you look good too. You always do.”

The air between you thickened again, but this time, it felt different—more certain, more intimate. Max leaned in slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

“Max,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Yeah?” he replied, his breath warm against your skin.

You hesitated for a moment before closing the gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a soft, tentative kiss. Max responded immediately, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, deepening the kiss. The kiss quickly grew more intense, and you found yourself laying back on the couch, Max’s body hovering over yours.

His lips moved against yours with a hunger that made your head spin. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. The feel of his weight on you, the taste of him, it was all too much and not enough at the same time.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. You stared up at Max, your heart pounding in your chest.

“What about Yazmin?” you asked, your voice a whisper.

Max smiled, a twinkle in his eye. “She found an F2 driver.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, relief flooding through you. Max brushed a strand of hair from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek.

“You sure you don’t want to come to the next gala?” he asked, his voice hopeful.

You smiled up at him. “I’ll go with you anywhere.”

He grinned, leaning down to peck your lips, both of you smiling softly at each other.

“Good to know.” he murmured, nestling himself into your neck.

[milkloafy]

SILENT BUT RECKLESS — TODOROKI SHOUTO

⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: in which pro hero!shouto saves you from getting run over by a car and finds himself immediately enraptured by you.  ⋆｡˚ ❀ contents: pro hero!shouto, fluff, gn!reader ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 1.3k ⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: aka…pro hero!shouto is a pr nightmare and no u cannot convince me otherwise ! ahdjskc but frl this is so unserious but i miss the og anime loml so here we are :>

Shouto wasn’t exactly known for his talkative nature. 

It was quite the opposite, in fact, with news agencies and magazines often referring to him as the quiet one of the Big Three. Though, he supposed that was better than being known as the one with the family trauma. 

But people often mistook his silence for thoughtfulness, he realized. Or an intense observation of sorts. And while at times that was the case, most times, it was simply because he didn’t have anything to say. 

Shouto blinked as he realized the situation he was in. 

He had just stopped a villain from robbing a luxury clothing store for the third time this month, nothing too exciting, yet the journalists showed up each time for an interview with him after. 

“Sir, we are live,” the reporter reminded with a nervous laugh. “We asked if you had a message for any…”

She kept talking, but Shouto was unable to concentrate. Not because he had heard it millions of times before, but because he noticed a strange movement from the corner of his eyes. 

This was one of the times he was both silent and observant. 

Shouto spotted you crossing the street on your phone, staring at your screen and completely oblivious that a car was headed your way with little to no sign of stopping. 

Without thinking of how it would look to the public for him to ditch an interview mid-sentence, he ran over to you before he even processed his legs moving. Throwing his right arm out in front of him, he sent a wall of ice up to block the vehicle’s predicted path, reaching you just in time to sweep you off your feet and carry you away from the road as the ice began to shatter from the impact. 

The ice wall was thick enough that the car slowed before fully breaking through, but that didn’t stop Shouto from instinctively shielding you with his body in the event that ice shards propelled towards you. 

Once he heard the sound of a crash and alarms, he figured the vehicle was fully stopped and the authorities arrived to assess the situation themselves. Would he get scolded by his agency for putting up an ice wall and potentially damaging someone’s vehicle? It was likely so. But that was better than someone actually getting hit by a car instead. 

The world wanted heroes, but only when they fit into their ideal mold. And while rules and regulations helped keep order in the world, in moments like these when someone’s life was in danger, Shouto couldn’t be bothered to care.

Slowly, his body relaxed and he was able to finally take a look at you. At the person who, for some reason, was so focused on their phone they didn’t notice a car coming at them. 

Any criticisms that threatened to come out of his lips stayed there once he got a good look at your features. He found himself taken aback by how beautiful you looked, though he quickly cleared his throat and recovered from his blatant staring. 

“Be careful when you’re crossing the street,” said Shouto, walking over to a section of grass and away from the commotion that was happening on the road, with you still in his arms. “What was keeping you so occupied?” 

You looked up at him guiltily, your phone clutched between your hands. “I was trying to order my food…” 

He blinked. As a pro hero, he shouldn’t be one the judge victims. But he couldn’t help but raise his brow just a bit. 

“I was really hungry,” you said sheepishly, hiding your face in embarrassment. “But I can’t believe I was so focused on my order I didn’t realize the car wasn’t stopping!” You sighed to yourself before meeting Shouto’s eyes once more. “Thank you for saving me, Shouto. I’m sure you had much more pressing matters to attend to instead of saving some random person off the street.”

He shook his head. “That’s the most important part of the job. Saving people.” 

You smiled gratefully at him and he almost had to look away from your dazzling grin. “Well, thank you for saving this idiotic person right here.” You gestured towards yourself. “Still, I hope my order went through…”

A mixture between a snort and a laugh escaped his lips. You had almost gotten run over and your biggest concern was whether or not your dinner was on its way? 

“It’s didn’t!” you cried in exasperation as you peeked at your phone. “Well, I might as well get a convenience store meal at this point.” Sighing, you leaned your head against his chest for a brief moment of comfort. “By the way, you can set me down now. I think people are taking pictures of us.” 

“Oh,” said Shouto, “right.”

Carefully, he loosened his hold on you and set your feet carefully onto the floor. Before fully letting go of you, he made sure you were stable and steady. For some, it took a while for the events to process and the panic to settle in, and he wanted to ensure you were truly okay. 

You had a worried look on your face as you noticed the video cameras still focused on the two of you. 

“Will you get in trouble for this?” you whispered, leaning close to his ear. 

“For rescuing someone from a getting hit by a car and talking to them after?” He considered things for a moment. “Most likely. But it’s okay. The most important thing is you are safe, both physically and mentally.”

Giggling, you nodded, reaching up to pat him on top of his head. Shouto was startled by the sudden touch, but he didn’t pull away.

“Who knew Shouto was such a worrywart,” you teased. “I’m safe and unharmed, all thanks to you. In fact, to show my gratitude… Why don’t I treat you to some convenience store dinner? On me, of course!” 

Shouto was silent for a bit. There were plenty of things he should be thinking about right now. The headlines that would be made about Pro Hero Shouto saving someone and then going on a “date” with them right after. The damage it could do to his reputation. The overtime hours the agency would make his public relations team work.

Instead, his silence was used to think of what he exactly he wanted to get at the convenience store. 

“Okay,” Shouto said once he made up his mind. “I’ll take a curry bun.” 

You laughed and gestured for him to follow you to the nearest convenience store. “I like that, too. You have good taste.” 

He followed along beside you, pleased with himself when he heard your captivating laugh. 

“I think I want an egg sandwich tonight,” you stated, a thoughtful look on your face. “Or maybe some fried chicken. Or an egg sandwich and fried chicken? And a smoothie for a drink and dessert all in one item! But maybe I want a crepe instead…”

As you rambled on, Shouto suddenly understood how you were too engrossed with trying to order food on your phone that you didn’t realize a vehicle was approaching you earlier. And while that was dangerous, he found it slightly endearing. Just as long as you were away from any cars. 

Shouto was so focused on listening to you that he hardly paid attention to the look of shock on the reporters’ faces and the influx of calls he was receiving from his agency. 

Right now, he simply wanted to hear you talk more and eat a curry bun. 

The rest, he could deal with later. 

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

PR disaster p.2

Hey guyss, since you liked part 1 and I love Franco I decided to do part 2. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do and if you want to read more of my stories here's my masterlist :)

Y/N stood in front of her bathroom mirror, staring at her reflection as she tugged nervously at the hem of her dress. Why on earth was she nervous? This was just a deal—a professional arrangement. She had agreed to go on this ridiculous date with Franco purely to keep him in check. There was no reason for her stomach to be doing flips or for her hands to be fidgeting like she was a teenager going on her first date.

“Get it together,” she muttered to herself, giving her reflection one last once-over.

Her dress was simple but elegant, a deep blue that she usually wore to events where she needed to look put together. Neutral. Not too flirty, not too casual. And yet, as she looked at herself, she couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe—just maybe—she had spent a little extra time getting ready.

She shook her head, rolling her eyes at her own ridiculousness. "It’s just Franco," she whispered, trying to remind herself who this date was with. That thought should’ve made her relax, but instead, it only made her heart race faster.

Just then, the sound of a knock at her door pulled her out of her thoughts. She took a deep breath, smoothing down her dress once more before heading to answer.

When she opened the door, there stood Franco, leaning casually against the frame with his signature grin firmly in place. His dark curls were styled perfectly, and his shirt—though slightly unbuttoned at the collar—looked annoyingly well put together. He always managed to toe the line between effortless and way too charming.

Franco’s eyes flicked over her outfit, and for a moment, something softer passed across his expression. "Wow," he murmured, his voice lower than usual. "Te ves… increíble, jefa." (You look … incredible, boss)

Y/N felt the warmth rush to her cheeks before she could stop it. “It’s just a dress,” she said, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible. “And stop calling me ‘jefa.’ We’re off duty.”

Franco’s grin returned in full force, and he leaned in slightly. "Oh, perdón. ¿Debería llamarte hermosa entonces?" (Oh, sorry. ¿Should I call you beautiful instead?)

She blinked, trying to decipher what he had just said before waving a hand dismissively. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Franco chuckled softly, stepping aside and offering his arm with an exaggerated flourish. "As you wish, hermosa." (Beautiful)

She ignored the Spanish this time and brushed past him, pretending not to notice how nice his cologne smelled as they headed out.

The restaurant Franco had chosen was a small, cosy spot in the heart of the city. It was intimate without being too romantic—just a perfect balance. Y/N had to give him credit; she had expected something flashy or over-the-top, but this was… nice.

Throughout dinner, Franco was, unsurprisingly, his usual self. He flirted relentlessly, slipping in compliments in both English and Spanish, leaving Y/N constantly on edge trying to figure out what he was saying. But as much as she tried to keep her usual grumpy exterior, she found herself laughing more than she’d care to admit.

“So,” Franco said, leaning forward, a playful glint in his eyes. “Are you having fun yet, or are you still counting the minutes until this is over?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her wine to hide the smile she couldn’t quite suppress. “It’s… tolerable.”

“Tolerable?” he repeated, feigning offense. “Y/N, you wound me. I was hoping for at least ‘moderately enjoyable.’”

She let out a small laugh despite herself, shaking her head. “Fine. Maybe it’s a little fun.”

Franco grinned, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied look. “See? I told you I could be charming.”

“Charming isn’t the word I’d use,” she shot back, though there was no real bite behind her words.

They continued talking, their banter flowing effortlessly between them. Despite Y/N’s initial hesitation, she realized she was actually enjoying herself. Franco, as annoying as he could be, was surprisingly easy to talk to when he wasn’t causing PR disasters.

The evening went by faster than she expected, and by the time they left the restaurant, she couldn’t deny that Franco had managed to wear down her defenses. They walked side by side down the quiet street, the night air cool and refreshing after the warmth of the restaurant.

“You know,” Franco began, his tone a little softer now, “I didn’t just ask you out to make a deal.”

Y/N glanced up at him, brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

He stopped walking, turning to face her fully. His usual playful grin was gone, replaced by a sincerity she hadn’t seen before. "I asked you out because… I like you, Y/N. Even when you’re all grumpy and serious, you’re…" He paused, searching for the right words. "Eres increíble. You’re smart, tough, and you don’t let me get away with anything. I like that." (You are incredible)

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out.

Franco took a step closer, his eyes locked on hers. "No tienes idea de cuánto me gustas." (You have no idea how much I like you)

This time, Y/N didn’t need a translation. She understood perfectly, and for the first time, she didn’t push him away.

Franco’s hand reached up, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft and lingering. "Tell me to stop," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

But Y/N didn’t want him to stop. Instead, she found herself leaning in, her heart pounding in her chest as her eyes fluttered closed.

And then, Franco’s lips met hers.

The kiss was soft at first, hesitant, as if he was waiting to see if she’d pull away. But when she didn’t, Franco deepened it, his hand slipping to the small of her back, pulling her closer. Y/N’s arms wrapped around his neck, her earlier grumpiness melting away as she let herself get lost in the moment.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless. Franco smiled down at her, his forehead resting against hers.

"So," he murmured, still slightly out of breath, "I think this date went pretty well, ¿no?"

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re impossible.”

Franco grinned, pressing another quick kiss to her lips. "But you like me anyway."

And, much to her own surprise, Y/N realized he was right. She did.

[suguru-getos]

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 18﹕✦﹕┈・୧

-> Event Masterlist

Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader -> Overstimulation

Warnings: Overstimulation, cunnilingus, squirting, Bakugou being a soft yet commanding dom, nipple-play, fingering, breeding. Let me know if I missed anything please? Thank you!

Summary: The perfect way to unwind after work with Katsuki is to share the solace of a perfect dinner, followed by a perfect fuck fest. :3

The recent days in the Bakugou household had been weird, you were busy and so was your husband. You had recently decided to step out of being a Pro hero. It was a big decision and you were thankful that Katsuki was there, understanding your emotions, understanding what you’re going through and soothing you with it all the way.

With the judgemental hero society and the fact that you’d never be able to come home one of these days— your dream of having a family, taking care of a family & being a mother, a wife, a partner. It was all fleeting away, your determination and priorities shifting from protecting the people of Japan to now, protecting the house. Even so, you can’t help but pout when Katsuki comes home at odd hours, it’s been a week or so that you two got to spend some time together. Katsuki was yearning! So were you, for the matter.

Katsuki (2:17 pm): Hey princess

You: (3:00 pm): Oh hey there Suki

Katsuki (3:01 pm): Coming home early today, missing you too bad. Gonna prepare dinner & wait for you.

The text made you beam with joy, fuck! You missed Katsuki’s cooking & Katsuki spoiling you. All he’s done is been your sugar daddy, you wanted— needed some quality time with him.

You (3:02 pm): OH OFCCC!!!!

The rest of the day went by in a haze, Bakugou’s bulls eye was to reach home on time, to spoil his wife. “Kiri handle the patrol for me will ya?” He mumbled, finishing the paperwork & the approvals with the signatures needed for the recent Ad campaigns his PR team has bagged him for.

“Ah man, gonna spoil Y/N?” Kiri smirked, “How cute, it’s been a while since all of us hung out together you know?” Kiri emphasised, which made Katsuki irritated. He just wanted to leave his agency premises right now. “Yeh, patrol. Don’t forget.” With that, he left. Katsuki has changed being a 27 year old Pro hero who is seasoned with the elixir of how to behave and also the self awareness of how to talk. The frequent outbursts weren’t there, however— the fire in his personality still blazed threateningly.

When Bakugou reached home, he was all set to prepare things for his lady love. Stove blazing, his culinary skills all out with every intention of showing off. He ordered your favorite flowers, loads of them— enough to magically decorate the house, your favorite scented candles & by the time you reached home. (Around 8), you were greeted with a different sight altogether.

“Oh my god!” You whined, while Bakugou opened the door and kissed your forehead. “Welcome home Princess, don’t want y’ to forget how amazing I am.” He winked, laced with his sassy, adoring signature grin as he guided you towards your shared bedroom.

“Go freshen up f’ me sweetheart. I’ve kept the dress I wan’ y’ to wear & want to see you in it kay?” You nodded blindingly, too enamoured by the preparations & the efforts Katsuki has done for you.

When you returned, the dinner was set properly, there were foods intermingled from Wasabi dipped sushi, Katsudon, some sweet mochi. Everything that you liked— or might like. The dinner was sweet, Bakugou let you unwind with some expensive roseé, listening to your babbling about what happened at work intently.

Before you knew it, you were being carried princess-style to the bedroom. Both you and Katsuki a little tipsy & you absolutely drowning in the warmth of his scent, in the comfort of his arms. “Let me unwrap my little present, yeah?” Bakugou hums, smiling tenderly and softly at you as he removes your dress off, leaving you in black lacey underwear.

“God damn, Princess.” he mused, licking his lip. “You look so fuckin’ gorgeous I feel like I’d lose my fuckin’ mind.” He smirks, leaning in and taking your panties off, gawking at your soaked pussy & your throbbing clit.

“Were thinking about being loved as much as me thinking about lovin’ you?” Katsuki hummed, not waiting for an answer and leaning in against your inviting folds, a soft groan escaping his parted lips, the moment he wrapped his lips around your needy clit. Thighs spread apart, and your legs falling over his shoulders. “You sound so cute moanin’ for me like that.” Katsuki smirks, gnawing at your clit and licking it over to soothe the irritation.

You were deliciously close to the edge, mouth agape, hands pulling at his hair closer & pussy clamping all up and all for him.

“Shit- mmgh- Katsuki, gonna—”

“Cum for me Princess, let me fuckin’ taste that sloppy cunt.” Your man daunted, the reverberations in his voice pushing you off the edge immediately. “Shit- hng.” Your body spasmed around his tongue, creaming all over him, meanwhile— Katsuki didn’t want to stop. It’s been a while since he’s away from his girl, he wants you, bad.

Your pleasure laced moans turned into gasps and whines, when your overstimulated clit found itself against Katsuki’s relentless thumb, “Give me another, yeah?” he croons, however it makes you feel that you don’t have any option but to— which is exactly what Katsuki wanted.

Leaning in and licking up your juices one last time, his thick, and long fingers found their way to your pussy. “Gonna make you squirt this time.” Katsuki smirked, leaning in and kissing your pelvis as two of his fingers nestled against your folds, curling upwards & against your G-spot.

A lewd moan escapes you when your body registers the pleasure on your clit and your G-spot at the same time.

“Oh my god—” You croak, clamping once again after Katsuki found the perfect rhythm to play with your sloppy pussy. He loved watching you whine and whimper when he goes on at your cunt until you cry.

“Gonna cum again sweetheart?” Katsuki cooed, watching your face contort with pleasure & smirking along. “Yes she will, yes she will.” he hums when he finds you speechless, drowning in pleasure with no escape.

Another, harsh and unforgiving orgasm rakes through you, and as promised, your body ended up complying to Katsuki, you ended up squirting your essence all over, screaming at the shattering waves of pleasure.

“Yeah, yeah baby, just like that.” Katsuki rode out your orgasm, not stopping when he finally unzipped himself, thrusting his cock balls deep in your twitching cunt. “Argh- fuck, so snug & tight.” He lewdly comments, not giving you any time to adjust and railing onto your sweet pussy. “Going to cum for me again, mhm?” He smirked, watching you try to push him away when his thumb finds it’s way back to your clit.

“Awh, don’t be a bad girl Princess.” He chided you gently, leaning in and swallowing your nipple, suckling on it and thrusting deep inside you. Tears glossed into your eyes at the threatening pleasure intermingled deliciously with the pain of overstimulation. The pain of feeling your senses on fire.

“Shit- I- I feel like- m’ close.” You gritted your teeth when Katsuki pulled the hood of your nerves, rubbing onto your now exposed bundle & watching you whine & squirm away to no avail.

“Go on, let your pussy massage daddy’s cock until he cums.” Katsuki leaned in, kissing you passionately and eating away all your moans when you finally, tipped off the edge again. Your overworked pussy spasming around him, clamping around him until ropes of his warm seed fill you up.

“Fuck- good- fuckin’ girl.” Katsuki groaned, stilling inside you, eyes softening when his senses complain to him about how far you’re gone. “Let it go Princess, gonna take care of you now. Leave it to me, yeah? Leave it to your Katsuki.”

[shurisneakers]

unsolved (i)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or any shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, Very Loud reader, images and memes that all have alt texts.

A/N: yes this is literally harmless in a different font. do not ask me if anything doesn't make sense. i cannot explain. i resurface every 3 years to present you with ideas born from menty b's. ANYWAY shout out to my beloved ryan and shane. pls enjoy <3

Bucky doesn’t appeal to the youths.

Apparently. 

On God, he cannot fathom why.

He had definitely left the house in the last six months, maybe. Smiled in at least two pictures that existed on the internet. He even knew what Discord was. Sort of.  

By all accounts, he should be treated as the modern day icon that he was.  

“The youths?” he repeats, the word so foreign on his tongue it felt odd to even say it.

“Your numbers are the lowest of the whole team.” The latest tech-dude, with a tablet twelve models ahead of the one Bucky had in his room, tells him monotonously. “Wilson, Romanoff and Barton score the highest. Everyone else lies around the middle. You are dead-last.”

Bucky has the audacity to look offended. 

“Anything to say?” Their PR head, Maya, asks him, amused. 

He stares, formulating the wittiest one liner he could in three seconds.

“I don’ care,” he mumbles. 

Maya sighs. “Look, the team took the decision together. As far as I’m aware, you are still a member. You need some PR if you guys want to stay in the public’s good books.”

“No one’s gonna listen to me.” Bucky wasn’t exactly the poster child for American values. He couldn’t even vote until three years ago, and that came only after the full wrath of a Steve Rogers descended on the email inbox of the DMV. 

“That’s why it’s important to get them to like you,” Maya emphasizes. “Or the idea of you at least. A very sanitized, corporate friendly version.”

His eyebrow twitches unintentionally.  

“And also you signed the contract.”

Well. Shit. 

Truth be told– and he has openly and rather loudly stated this on numerous occasions even especially when no one asked– he doesn’t understand why they need a PR team. The world has calmed down significantly over the last few years. Bucky hadn’t really been out crime-fighting as much as he was people-watching. There hasn’t been an earth-shatteringly dystopian-level event in the longest time, and there seemed to be a group of spandex-clad teenagers who seemed to do a good job at taking care of them when they did threaten to occur. Go kids.

Even if they needed PR, he could arguably understand the appeal of Sam and Nat and why the people would want to see more of them. Bucky, on the other hand, looked like he crawled onto Earth most days of the week. 

“What do I have to do?” he asks ultimately, knowing there was no way to get out of this. “Interviews?”

The intern shares a look with Maya. Bucky shares a look with the ceiling. 

“The team agreed to do a series of videos, each focusing on a different niche,” she begins, “Crash courses on science, pointing out mistakes in spy movies. Once a week.”

Bucky nods along. He can pinpoint Bruce and Nat for those.

Maya stares at him.

Bucky stares back.

“So,” she says slowly, like he’s a moron, “you would–”

“No.” 

The intern sighs heavily like they discussed that this was going to happen. Bucky was getting predictable. This annoys him even further, for some reason.

“Only once a week, and it doesn’t have to be anything crazy–”

“I’m not doing videos,” he interjects. “I’ll tweet a few times. I’ll even go outside. But ’m not doin’ videos.”

A big step was to get the Avengers off Twitter after the regular shit-storm that occurs every time they’d quote-tweet another politician calling them shitheads. Getting them back on seems counterproductive. 

“Fine,” Maya relents, looking at the intern. “We'll work something out.”

Bucky leans back in his chair, and meditating on ways he can weasel his way out of those too.

So they stick him in a couple of interviews.

Bucky, as the recluse extraordinaire that he was, does unsurprisingly terrible at them.

Variety does a piece on him that was supposed to take up 2 pages. They send back half a page worth of usable material and Bucky gets a lecture on how monosyllables don't count as answers.

He grunts in return. Maya’s itch to smack his shoulder with the rolled up draft increases.

They set him up for pap walks. Just him getting fast food for the team, or sitting in the park.

They don’t take into account that Bucky was trained professionally for years on how to hide, sneak in and out of places without a soul knowing he was ever there. 

The paparazzi spend three hours waiting for him outside the pizza place, while he’s been home for two hours with two demolished pepperonis and an order of mozzarella sticks. 

They give him access to his Twitter. 

He tweets some dumb shit and gets shadow banned by that evening. 

Maya is sick and tired, and the interns have shifted three times since the whole ordeal started. Bucky honestly feels a little bad. Maybe he should try to be like Scott, who not only wrote a book, finger-gunned at photographers, did an interview a week, but also agreed to a podcast and a video series about literally anything they suggested. 

“Play nice,” Sam tells Bucky one evening. 

It’s an off-hand comment, not even really looking at him while he says it. 

Bucky doesn’t need to ask what he’s referring to, but he thinks that maybe he has gone too far.

He begrudgingly agrees. 

Therefore, it begins. 

They stick him in the background of a few videos. Just to interact, add his commentary on what was going on, suggestions. 

Then the jokes really start.

“I just don’t got anything to add,” Bucky tries, in a failure of an attempt to justify his lack of contribution. 

Maya only stares at him, but Bucky swears he can hear her curse quietly, even though her lips don’t move even a millimeter.  

He is not put in another video. 

And so he finds himself here. 

In a meeting room that he’s convinced is barricaded from the outside so he can’t slither out the door again. Another intern with pink-tinted glasses that took up half their face.

Maya’s in the midst of explaining to him that sure, his numbers had gone up by a decimal, but that was because people had started editing him into the backgrounds of other pictures for other users to find in a perplexing take on Where’s Waldo.

“Videos seem to be working,” she ties it together. “But we need more than you just standing silently behind Captain Rogers.”

“But it’s working,” Bucky objects. “I don’t see why it has to change.”

Maya sends him a glare. Bucky decides then it’s good to shut up. 

“Are you on the internet a significant amount?” the intern asks. The glasses on their face have changed colours to green. Bucky’s eyebrow furrows. 

“No.” 

For the next thirty minutes, he is subjected to a pop quiz about too many words ending with ‘core’, ‘coded’ and ‘eras’. He’s surprised that he knows what cottagecore is. He definitely doesn’t fucking know what a tomatogirl, nor does he want to. 

“What do you like doing?” the intern enunciates, pulling up a spreadsheet of niches that had built a dedicated community around themselves over the years. “Makeup? Cleaning? Parkour?”

Bucky wonders if they’d really create a montage of him just micro cleaning the kitchen every week. It doesn’t sound half bad. 

Beyond that, the only thing he can think of is woodworking, which Sam introduced him to. While he spends time creating little figures, he wouldn’t say it was– 

“You really are dead silent,” the intern breaks his train of thought, tone almost that of wonder. “Guess the whole ‘ghost story for seventy years’ is more true than I thought.”

Bucky throws him a weary look, and works on unclenching the fist that tightened involuntarily. 

“Was that necessary?” Maya’s voice comes coldly. “Take fifteen. Go find the other one we were supposed to meet.”

While sheepish and somewhat apologetic, the kid still looks relieved to be out of there. To be honest, Bucky isn’t really offended– he’s grown a thick skin over the years. But he also thought the guy was a little shit now. 

Maya turns back to him, but Bucky finds that the table contains wonders far more interesting than the conversation at hand.

“Back to what we were talking about.” She ruffles through something on her laptop. “Puppets? History?”

He wordlessly shakes his head. 

Been the former, seen too much of the latter.

Maya’s head tilts abruptly. “You like ghosts?”  

He wonders if the prior conversation had anything to do with this insightful question. 

Bucky shrugs. “Don’t exist.”

“Really,” Maya deadpans. “Aliens and multiversal baboons are fine, but no ghosts.”

“I’ve seen aliens and multiversal baboons. Never seen a ghost in my life,” Bucky argues right back.

“Other people have seen ghosts.”

“Good for other people.”

The door swings open right as Maya’s eyes narrow at him. Guess it wasn’t padlocked. 

“Whatever it is you think I did, Maya, I didn’t. I think,” you announce in a volume too much for a closed room, stopping when you see Bucky sitting cross-armed and looking delightfully disgruntled. “Oh hey, Barnes. Fancy seeing you here.”

Bucky had met you. The newest addition to the team that had made a grand entrance a couple of weeks ago. He thinks you stay on the floor below him, but he has nothing backing this hypothesis other than the disco funk music that had started appearing at odd hours of the night. 

“Please sit,” Maya cracks a smile at you that Bucky had yet to earn. “Sorry, I know our meeting is scheduled for later, but I figured we could kill two birds with one stone.”

You look between her and Bucky, who hasn’t moved an inch since you got here, much less even said hello.

“You must be really bad if Maya had to call me in,” you tell him outright. “I’m usually like, her last option.”

“Thanks,” Bucky replies dryly. 

“Look, here’s my final pitch.” Maya sighs, before turning to you. “You’re new, and we need something to introduce you slowly to the public.”

“Oh, am I finally getting hard launched?” You grin, and Bucky doesn’t know what that means. “Just imagine me kicking my feet, giggling or whatever.” 

“And he needs… an upgrade.” Maya’s thumb juts out towards Bucky who simply rolls his eyes.

“Right.” Your sight lands on him from across the table. “I’ve seen the memes.”

“What memes?” he grunts, because while the team had definitely seen them, it didn't occur to anyone they should show it to him. He loves them. Really. So much. Die for them. 

You only look too happy to pull out your phone and start typing.

“Do you know what skinwalkers are?” 

“No.”

“That’s what they say you look like, lurking in the back of all your friends’ videos,” you continue, swerving around your phone to show him.

Bucky doesn’t look impressed. He can’t say he blames them either, which makes him inexplicably maddens him.  

“At least they’re calling you their boyfriend,” you add, entirely unhelpfully. “That’s gotta count.”

“Right.” Maya clears her throat. “The both of you–” 

“Are getting paired together, I suppose,” you hum. 

Bucky’s eyebrows pull together. 

He barely knows you. Just a little bit on how you ended up here, that you enjoyed hanging out with the team, figuring out your place in the compound, and were seemingly doing a great job at it. 

You were… loud. And open. 

Bucky feels the compulsive need to compensate for that by doubling down on how silent he could get, as if the two of you couldn’t co-exist in the same space in equilibrium. 

Maya pointedly raises a finger at you. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“For the right price, I will believe in whatever you tell me to.”

Her face lights up brighter than Bucky's ever seen.

“Great.” Maya slams her laptop closed. “See you later.”

Bucky’s left staring as she exits, not even throwing the both of you another look.

“That was quick,” your voice cuts through the silence. “What was that all about?”

 “Don’ ask me,” he grumbles, with a sinking feeling that he knew exactly what was about to follow. 

“Ghost hunting?” Bucky echoes a week later, as expected.

“Yes,” Maya tells him simply. “Two of you. A series based on paranormal activity.”

“I don’t even believe in them,” he reiterates. 

“That’s the point,” she emphasises. “Skeptic and believer. It makes for a good contrast.”

“Why us both?” He hopes it doesn’t come off as offensive. He just doesn’t see why he can’t do this with Sam. Even Clint, if a gun was really pressed to his head. 

“I’m new, no one gives a shit about me,” you say brightly and full of promise. “Yet.”

“Exactly. It’ll be low key. Not an overwhelming number of viewers, no expectations. It’s perfect for launching one Avenger and re-launching another.”

“Sounds rad.” You grin, leaning back as your feet rest on the chair in front of you.

Maya looks relieved for a moment that at least one of you was on board. “No promises on anything. We shoot one video, and if it does well, we stick with it.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Bucky argues. 

“Then you have until tomorrow morning to give us another feasible idea,” Maya dishes back.

Bucky retreats into his seat, arms crossed over his chest. 

Truth be told, he considered himself to be the most boring person in the team and though he had made his peace with that, he was sure thar bringing that up now would entail Maya shooting him in the foot.

“Fine,” he agrees and the sighs around the room are loud. 

He scoffs. So fucking dramatic and for what.

“Put her there, partner.” You stretch ungracefully over the large table, sticking out your hand.

Bucky eyes your hand. “Do you even believe in ghosts?” 

“I do now, yeah.” You nod seriously. “Love ‘em. Can’t get enough of them.”

“One video,” Maya reminds him as a balm. “And if it doesn’t work, you’re off the hook forever.”

Off the hook? Forever? For Bucky?

Yay. 

“One video,” he reiterates.

You roll your eyes before smiling when he leans forward to grab it. You yank it up and down clunkily. He blinks at you, letting go slowly. 

“Thank fuck,” Maya groans, head dropping onto the table. 

Your smile is wild. “Guess we’re doing this shit together.”

He doesn’t even have to look very deep in his soul. He already knows he’s going to suffer.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!

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Next part

[nathaslosthershit]

A Little White Chapel Wedding (LS18)

(Part 3 of the Blind Item Series) Summary: Lance and his now wife had their reasons for eloping, he just hopes his dad will understand.

Lance and his girlfriend, now wife, had always wanted to keep their relationship out of the spotlight. Given how much hate and controversy surrounded Lance due to his father’s ownership of the team, he had already taken a major step back from social media. He knew that dating another heir apparent would piss many fans off, even if it was solely for love that they were together. Both of their families knew and greatly approved of the relationship but once Lance had proposed it seemed their families wanted to take over fully. Wedding preparations had been started without any input from the groom and bride-to-be. Seeing all these decisions made without the two’s consent had put a ton of stress on them. This was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives and they had absolutely no say in the matter. Guest lists full of investors and other business partners took away from the intimacy of the event. No detail was left unscrutinized and it was going to be far too extravagant, as this was going to be the first time they announced their relationship and the families joining together.

When Lance and his fiancee had gotten to Vegas, they had no plans of getting married that weekend. The thought only crossed Lance’s mind after the race.

“P5 Lance! Oh honey I couldn’t be more proud.” She said as she ran up and hugged him. She had been waiting what felt like forever to congratulate him, as he had been so surrounded the minute the race ended. 

Pulling away from the hug, Lance put his hands on her cheeks as he said “let's get married”

“We are, Lance.” She responded, perplexed. 

“Tonight. Let's elope and have an actual wedding about the two of us. No one else.”

“Honey, our families would kill us if we did that.” While the idea sounded wonderfully romantic and gave her butterflies just thinking about it, it just couldn’t work with the way things were.

“Who cares? We don’t have to tell them right away. We get married now, take an extra long honeymoon over break and then tell them once the season starts.”

“I don’t know Lance.”

“Please? It is unfair we don’t get to have the wedding we want. Who gives a shit about the guestlist with a million business partners we’ve never met. If they still need a wedding then we will do it their way but let's have our way first.” 

She took a minute to respond, thinking the idea over before she finally gave her answer. “Okay, Lance. Let's get married.”

Lance had never envisioned his wedding going the way it did, but he also never saw it the way his family planned it to be.

Although as happy as he was, he felt so guilty when he thought of how his family would feel knowing that he got married without them there to see it. As important as business was to Lawrence Stroll, he knew his dad valued and loved his family above all else. 

Over break, the newlyweds had gone on a bit of a delayed honeymoon, posed as just a really nice vacation.

They only got the honeymoon suit because they really wanted to go all out. No other reason…

They thought they had made it out unscathed, planning on telling their family in a week when they had gotten back from their vacation. Too bad they didn’t get to.

Lance’s wife saw the post first. He barely checked socials anymore. When the photos of them confirmed that the Blind Items post was about them, she felt a chill run through her body. Their families had to have known already, public image was important to both of them so they definitely had PR teams constantly checking what was going on. And she was correct.

“Honey, I just got a call from my Dad. He sounded pretty upset, and said we had to come home quickly and meet with him.” Lance said, confused and worried. His dad rarely sounded as serious as he did on the phone. 

Wordlesy, she passed her phone to Lance with the tweet pulled up. She could see the color drain from his face as he read through replies. Fuck this wasn’t good.

What was probably the most stressful plane ride of Lance’s life was also painstakingly long. He couldn’t swallow the guilt building in his throat at how upset his father must be.

The once welcoming and happy house was now cold and silent as the couple walked inside. His father didn’t greet them, just told the two of them to follow him into his office. Lance just held his wife’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly as they made their way up there. 

Lawrence still remained silent as he sat in his chair, looking at his married son and new daughter-in-law for the first time.

Lance was the one to break the silence.

“Dad, I know this is a lot but please-” He was cut off by the simple raise of his father’s hand to silence him.

“Why, Lance? We spend all this time planning the two of you a beautiful wedding just for you both to throw it away? For what?”

“Dad, you dont under-”

“No, Lance, I don’t. I mean how could you be so stupid?”

“Please if you just listen, Dad-”

“I have never been more disrespected by yo-”

 “Stop!” Lance’s wife spoke up. She finally had to butt in. “You tell Lance you don’t understand and when he tries to explain you cut him off! How are we supposed to have a conversation when you won’t let anyone else speak?”

Silence spread across the room as no one dared to respond. She could practically feel the smoke coming out of her ears.

“Dad. We eloped because we wanted something that was for us. The wedding you were planning wasn’t ours. We didn’t have a say in anything. From guest list to menu, you all controlled that. We wanted to get married on our own terms. While I will forever be sorry you weren’t with us, I am not sorry for getting married the way I did, to the girl I love.” Lance grabbed your hand once again to squeeze, to remind him why he did what he did. 

His father didn’t say anything for a few moments. The newlyweds waited patiently, praying Lawrence wouldn’t fly off the handle again. 

Finally he said, “Then I owe you both an apology. I understand that you both had expectations for your wedding and not having any say in the matter didn’t feel good. I wish you both said something. At the end of the day though, this is still a big deal for our families business-wise. You are my only son though, Lance, I wish I could have seen you get married.”

“We can still have the wedding, Mr.Stoll. Our plan was just to have something for ourselves, then have the main event be for everyone else.”

Lawrence smiled at that. Happy he would still get to see his son get married, even if it is the second time.

This time luckily, the couple got a bit more of a say in wedding preparations. With no comment from either family, the Vegas elopement was quickly forgotten once more pressing gossip reached the public. 

While it still wasn’t what Lance and his wife had envisioned, having their families there this time was all they could ask for. 

lance_stroll

Liked by astonmartinf1, and 452,374 others

lance_stroll One for us and one for them

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[vilapollo-arts]

dressing up for the enemy

pairing: Sylus x gn!reader

tags: mdni, overstimulation, facefuck, blowjob, consensual nonconsent (mc uses the word "no" and begs him to stop during sex but not their safeword), aftercare, possessive Sylus, (slightly) drunk sex, Sylus uses his Evol during sex, not edited

a/n: you can find the full censored version of the illustration on my twitter @/vilapollo_arts!! Please consider following the account. I'll be releasing uncensored versions of Xavier's and Sylus' NSFW artworks once I reach my goal of 100 followers! And with that, I hope you guys enjoy this fic!!

It takes a lot of patience on Sylus’ part before you even start to get under his nerves. Most of the time, when you do, he bends you over any surface near the both of you and fucks you into oblivion. It mostly happens when the both of you are alone. However, this time, you decide to test the limits.

Sylus was invited to a private party which he asked you to come. Of course, he didn’t invite you just to be a beautiful display by his side. You have a target in that guest list and you need them to acquire some information. It’s as simple as that, so you decide that this is also the perfect time for you to also play around. Of course, Sylus only knows the first part of your plans tonight. You needed his connections for that.

You decide to buy a new outfit for this particular party. It’s not often that you splurge on clothing, but then again, Sylus pays for it anyway. You can blend in with the other party goers and definitely attract two of your targets–the person you need your information from and Sylus himself. The best part is that the type of clothing you bought will definitely rile Sylus up, knowing that you have you other ways to extract information from other people.

You tell Sylus that you’re coming from Linkon straight to the party, telling him that it’s best if the two of you arrive separately so that you won’t scare your target off. You want to surprise the man when he sees the outfit you bought yourself for this party. Sylus instead sends a car over to your place to pick you up and send you to the place of the event.

You decide not to bring your weapons with you. After all, you have Sylus to back you up. If you get into trouble, you trust that that man will not let you be harmed.

You arrive at the hotel where the party will be held. You inform the front desk what you were there for. Showing her your copy of the invitation. The lady nods as you and calls for a bodyguard, someone that doesn’t seem to have the same uniform as the usual guards patrolling the hotel. The man escorts you to where the party will be held, which is at the hotel’s sky deck.

Sylus meets you right at the entrance, taking you from the bodyguard’s hands. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes say it all. You directly meet his eyes as he brings you to an area with less people.

He leans over towards you. “You really outdid yourself with the…preparations you need for today,” he says.

You tilt your head to the side and smile. “Of course,” you reply as you spin around to show him the back. “Business at the front, part at the back. Like it?” you ask, looking up at him over your shoulder.

Sylus chuckles. “You know I prefer it when you don’t have anything at all,” he says, tracing his fingertips on your back. “Perhaps, after your mission, I can take you in my room and help you wash the blood off of you?”

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you fully face him. “Don’t worry about that. No blood will be shed tonight,” you say. “At least, not by me,” you continue in your head.

“That’s a little disappointing, but I guess that’s one less problem to worry about,” he replies. “I’ll leave you to go do your thing now then. I do have other matters to take care off as well.” He almost leans down to press a kiss on your forehead, but one of the guests suddenly comes over. He takes a step back and gently picks up your hand. “It was nice meeting you, sweetie.” He winks as he presses a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “It was nice meeting you too,” you reply.

Sylus’ hand lingers before he finally lets go of you and walks away. Once he blends in with the other guests, you put your mask on and walk towards the crowd as well. You look around among the mingling crowd and spot him at the bar, talking to someone. You decide to saunter over to the bar. As soon as you take your seat right beside them, you feel the two men eye you up and down. Well, if your clothes were enough to rile up the leader of the Onychinus, of course it will also catch the attention of other people.

Your plan is to make him come to you first, which is not really a hard task considering he shooed away the person he was talking to and turns to you.

“Good evening,” he greets, inching his seat closer towards you.

You smile back. “Good evening,” you say sweetly.

“Henry,” he introduces himself and offers his hand for a handshake.

You shake his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Aren’t you going to tell me your name?” he asks.

“Aren’t you going to buy me a drink first?” you ask, reaching your hand out and pressing your hand on his knee.

He smirks, amused. “One drink for them please. Put it on my tab,” he tells the bartender. He turned towards you with a wink. “Well, there you go. Aren’t you going to tell me your name now?”

You smile as you take the drink from the bartender. You take a sip and nod in satisfaction. You turn back to him and introduce your fake name.

“Are you here with someone? I doubt someone as eye-catching as you would come here all alone,” he says.

“I could say the same thing about you,” you reply, leaning forward closer to him. “No one will come and suddenly drag me out of here in a body bag, won’t they?”

From the corner of your eyes, you can see a familiar figure standing a few feet away, staring at the two of you menacingly.

Sylus’ fingers twitches. Without even using his Evol, his piercing gaze alone is enough to probably kill the man. Still, he wouldn’t want to get in the way of your mission. Perhaps once you’re done with him, he’ll send over the twins to take care of him. He’s not usually a jealous man, but he sees the way this man is putting his arm around your waist currently. It doesn’t help that he sees you glance over your shoulder and meet your gaze as if challenging him.

He huffs out a laugh, pressing his tongue against the inside of his right cheek. He downs the whiskey in his hand and places it down on the table before forcing himself to look away.

Throughout the party, you're glued right beside that man. Sylus, on the other hand, tries to ignore you. And it frustrates you because it seems like he doesn't really care that another man is parading you around as if they own you. Despite being disappointed and mad that Sylus isn't giving any attention towards you tonight, you still focus on feeding Henry’s ego so he would eventually spill the information you need from him. And you get to deal with Sylus right after. Or maybe, you will have to pour your frustrations on this man before going back to Sylus.

Unbeknownst to you, Sylus has actually been keeping an eye on you. Even though he’s trying to do his own thing, he still makes sure that you don't leave his periphery for more than 2 seconds. And he’s getting quite concerned with how quickly you're downing your drinks. You still remain the same composure as you had before but Sylus can see how you're starting to slow your movements and even letting the man get more and more handsy towards you. All of that, he’s able to hold himself back. All he could think about is breaking the man’s fingers and skinning his arms so he gets to be reminded to not touch what isn’t his next time. However, he composed himself.

What his breaking point is when the two of you start to leave the area with you pulling him back into the hotel. He rises to his seat and contacts Kieran and Luke to ask for information about the man’s room. Not a minute later and he receives the information that he needs. He knows that you can still handle yourself, considering how you seem to be the one pulling the man behind you. However, it still took a lot of him to not to immediately follow the two of you.

He leaves the party and follows the two of you after five more minutes and heads to the room that the twins have told him.

He arrives at the guest’s suite. He uses his Evol to unlock the door and lets himself in. There's no one to greet him at the door or the living area. He can hear his own heartbeat in his ears because that means the two of you are in the bedroom. A part of him knows that you can handle yourself, but at the same time, he knows that with your current state, you’re still you may still be taken advantage of.

He immediately heads towards the bedroom, slamming the door open.

As soon as he opens the door, he’s greeted by your figure straddling your unconscious target on the bed. You jump at the sound of the door opening, so you immediately lift your gun to the direction of the door, directly at Sylus.

Sylus is unfazed by the gun. He leans against the wall and throws a smirk your way. “If that man wasn't already unconscious, I would've sucked the light out of his eyes and I would’ve deeply enjoyed watching him go limp,” he says.

You lower your gun as soon as you hear his voice. You throw your legs over the body underneath you and hop off of the bed.

“You got what you needed, kitten?” Sylus asks, watching you sway as you walk towards him.

He slowly snakes his arm around your waist and lets you lean against him for support. “No,” you sigh.

Sylus furrows his brows. “What? Was he not the one holding the information you needed?” he asks, brushing away stray hair from your face. You don’t respond right away, so Sylus speaks again, “That’s alright, sweetie. Let me take you upstairs to my room first. You need your rest first.”

“No,” you protest, struggling to look up at him. Your face breaks into a smile in that same second. “What I mean is,” you wrap the end of his tie around your hand and pull him down towards your face, “you.” You then glare at him. “You weren’t paying attention to me all night. You don’t like my outfit?” you ask.

Sylus raises his eyebrow. “For a trained Hunter, I’m kind of worried that you haven’t noticed my attention being on you all night, sweetie,” he says, tightening his hold on you. He looks back at the unconscious man on the bed. “You didn’t notice how much I want to snatch you away from that man and show who actually owns you, kitten?”

You swallow. You don’t know what he actually means by that. However, all you mind could think of is the most unholy things Sylus could have done to you at the party, right in front of everyone. Your legs, which are already feeling like wet noodles, now feel much weaker. If Sylus’ arm isn’t currently around you, you would’ve already collapsed on the floor.

Sylus seems to notice this. Suddenly, he sweeps your legs over the floor, carrying you bridal style. The corner of his lips curve upwards. You yelp and immediately wrap your arms around his neck. “Let’s get you out of here. I’ll let the twins take care of the garbage.”

As he brings you to his own suite, you can’t help but start to feel the insides of your thighs become moist. Your whole body is heating up. The way he’s carrying you as if you weigh nothing at all definitely doesn’t help the thoughts entering your mind.

The elevator is empty when the two of you enter. “Here, let me put you down first,” he says before gently letting you stand on your own two feet. He pulls out his room card and presses it up against the sensor to activate the elevator before pressing a button. As soon as the doors close, Sylus suddenly turns to you and picks you up under your thighs before pinning you against the elevator’s wall.

“Sylus!” you gasp as his hands start roaming on your skin. His touches are rough and possessive, squeezing your arms, waist, and thighs. He buries his face on your neck, his tongue tracing the path from your jaw to your collarbone. He bites down on the area where your neck and shoulders meet. Your whole body shudders.

“You riled me up all night, kitten,” he whispers, voice heavy with lust and possessiveness. “I can’t help but think that you definitely did it on purpose.”

You throw your head back against the wall as Sylus’ fingers travel up your chest and start playing with your nipples, flicking and squeezing them through the fabric of your clothes. The world around you is blurry. All you can feel are his tongue and hands on your skin. You don’t even realize yourself wrapping your legs around his waist, grinding against the tent forming on his pants. You can feel his thickness from just rubbing yourself against him. And all you could think of is him manhandling you as he’s fucking you.

“Please, Sylus,” you whimper, your fingers running through his well-kept hair and gripping them in between your fingers.

Suddenly, Sylus pulls away from you with a smirk on his face. “We’re almost at our floor,” he says. He puts you down and fixes your clothes for you.

The elevator dings and the doors open. He ignores the pleading expression on your face and sweeps you off of the floor once again and into his arms. He walks towards the only set of double doors on this floor. Inside was a luxurious suite, much bigger than the suite you came from. However, you can’t really focus on the grandness of it right now considering that you’re drunk and really, really, really horny.

You swallow as Sylus brings you to what you guess is the bedroom.

“Stop squirming,” Sylus tells you, looking down at you with an amused expression plastered on his face. You can’t help but think that this man has some kind of trick up his sleeve.

As you enter the room, Sylus puts you down on the king-sized bed. He loosens his tie and takes off his suit. You can’t help but bite your lower lip as you watch the muscles on his body move. He hovers over you, planting his hand against the headboard and the other right beside your head. He holds your eyes with his intense gaze. His eyes travel down your body, stopping at your squirming thighs.

He looks back to your eyes and smirks. “I know you, kitten,” he whispers. His breath has a hint of alcohol in it. It feels like he must’ve drank a little more than usual tonight as well. “You don't usually have the need to use that pretty face of yours on your missions. You're smarter than that. Usually, you only use all of this,” he lifts his hand from your side and traces his fingers on your cheeks down to your lips, “when you need something from….me.”

His thumb traces your lower lips. You take his finger between your lips and sucks it lightly, keeping eye contact with him. “And what if I did?” you ask. “What are you going to do about it now that another man has laid their hands on me?”

Sylus’ jaw tenses. He lets out a deep breath with a chuckle. “I already have that man dealt with. The only thing I only have to deal with is you.” He takes his thumb out of your mouth and lightly slap your cheek but still hard enough for you to feel the sting.

He stands back and pulls the chair near the window closer beside the bed. He sits down, legs spread and gestures for you to come to him. “Get up and show me who you’re actually supposed to worship.”

Without waiting for a second, you stand up and are about to approach him but then, a black smoke comes out of nowhere. Before you realize that it's actually his Evol, the smoke pushes you down on your hands and knees.

Your palms and knees sting from the impact, but the pain is actually welcome. If anything, it only adds to the arousal already present between your legs. You crawl towards him, looking up at him through your lashes. When you reach him, you try to lift your hand but the black smoke keeps your palms planted on the ground.

“Keep your hands and knees where they belong,” he says, looking down at you.

You obey. You lean forward and use your lips and teeth to unbutton and unzip his task, which isn't an easy feat. You keep eye contact with him as you take the hem of his underwear between your teeth and pull it down slowly.

“Oh, fuck,” Sylus curses.

Sylus’cock springs out of his underwear, slapping against your cheek. The tip is already glistening with his own precum.

He chuckles. “I can't get over how my cock is as big as your face.” He holds his cock against your face, rubbing it against you. “Now, take it down your throat like a good little kitten.”

He helps you line his cock to your lips and you immediately take his head in your mouth. Your tongue circles around the tip and you moan as soon as you get a sweet taste of his arousal. It’s just his precum and yet it’s already so thick. You can't help but wonder how much he is going to make you swallow. Inch by inch, you take him in your mouth.

Sylus above you watches as his shaft disappears into your mouth. He places his hand behind your head and guides your head forward, pushing his cock further in your throat. He grits his teeth, stopping himself from shoving his cock down your throat. He knows that's what you also want, but he first needs your spit all over his cock so he can fuck your mouth mercilessly without stopping.

You look up at Sylus and his head is leaned back against the wall. The tip of your nose soon touches his stomach. You can feel your throat being spread wide open by his girth. On the other hand, Sylus bites down a string of curses as he feels your throat tighten around his shaft.

He loosens his grip on the back of your head and you pull back, leaving only the head of his cock inside before swallowing it whole once again. You start bobbing your head along his shaft. Without the help of your hand, you do your best to make sure that you swallow the entirety of his cock every time while meeting Sylus’ eyes at the same time.

And Sylus loves it. He loves the way your cheeks become hollow as you suck on his cock. He loves the way you gag occasionally when you accidentally hit the back of your throat with his cock. He loves the heavy breaths you're taking through your nose. Most importantly, he loves how you're shaking your ass in the air as if imagining that he’s fucking you from behind.

Oh, he will give you just that, but for now, he has to fuck your face first.

He grabs the sides of your head with both hands, stopping your movements. And without any warning, he starts fucking your face.

Sylus watches as your eyes roll back as you take his cock in your mouth. Spit starts to bubble at the corners of your lips as he pumps his cock into you.

Sylus’ Evol disappears around your wrist but you don't move. You know that he removed them so you could tap him whenever you needed to breathe or if he became a little too rough.

But you know you can still take it.

Your face is immediately a mess. Your own drool slips down your chin and down your neck. Sylus starts to move your head to meet his thrusts. You ball your hands into fists when Sylus fully buries his cock in your mouth and keeps your face pressed against his stomach.

He doesn't move, keeping your head down. Your eyes start to roll and you attempt to pull your head back but his hands won't budge.

“You know what you should do, kitten,” he says, voice raspy. Even he is out of breath.

You let him hold you like that for a few more seconds before you began frantically tapping his thighs. Sylus immediately lets you go.

You pull your head back, gasping for air. Your tears start to roll down your cheeks, mixing in with the mess of your saliva.

Sylus cups your entire jaw with one hand. “Fuck, you look so pretty like this,” he mumbles before slapping your cheek. His eyes travel down to your thighs and he smirks. “You like that don't you? You like choking on my cock, kitten?” he asks.

You bite your lower lip as you smile up at him, either alcohol drunk or cock drunk, maybe both. “Uh-huh,” you reply.

“Such a good kitten. Open your mouth for me.” You obey, opening your mouth with your tongue out. Sylus spits into your mouth and you happily swallow it down.

He then wraps his hand around your neck. “Stand up,” he orders. He tightens his fingers on the sides of your neck as you stand up. He pushes you backwards, towards the bed. And when the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, Sylus throws you down.

He climbs on top of you, He takes the fabric of your clothes in his hands and rips it apart. He chuckles at the gasp that you let out. He wraps both of your legs around his waist before pinning both of your hands on your sides.

Sylus keeps his eye contact with you as he slowly moves his hips forward, lining his cock to your hole. His cock easily penetrates your entrance. Your jaw drops as your back arches. You close your eyes, sighing as Sylus' cock pushes against your insides.

But then, Sylus pulls out and buries his cock inside of you in one thrust, pushing a scream out of your throat.

“Keep your eyes on me, kitten,” he demands, pressing his whole body forward, folding your whole body in half, pushing his cock deeper into you.

You cry out and immediately open your eyes, meeting Sylus’ dark gaze. “I’m sorry,” you whimper.

He smirks. “I forgive you for that, kitten. However, you still have something to be sorry for.”

You furrow your eyebrows, confusion painting your face. “H-Huh?”

“I know that you set this night up on purpose. Aside from that mission of yours, you also took this opportunity to make me jealous, didn’t you?” He lets go of your other hand and wraps his fingers around your neck once again. He squeezes, harder than his grip earlier. “Didn’t you?” he repeats.

“Y-Yes,” you squeak. “I did.”

“Wearing that gorgeous outfit, purposefully catching the attention of each and every person in the room. You really took a huge risk just to rile me up, huh?” He laughs. “Such a naughty little kitten.” You see the glint in his eyes before your vision is suddenly covered by the black smoke of his Evol. With your vision clouded, you flinch when you suddenly feel Sylus’ breath against your ear. ““Perhaps I should give you a reward for going such lengths just to get on my nerves. Don’t expect me to hold back though, kitten. I’m gonna fuck you the way you want so fucking good that it’s going to feel like a punishment. Cry all you want, let the whole hotel hear that sweet voice of yours, but I’m not gonna stop until that slutty little hole of yours takes the shape of my cock.”

His deep voice feels like it’s caressing your entire body, leaving goosebumps on your body.

“You know your safe words, right?”

You nod.

“I need you to speak up, kitten.”

“Yes, Sir,” you say out loud. “My safe word is crow.”

“Good kitten.” You feel his soft lips against your forehead.

And when his lips pull away, he immediately starts pounding into you.

He isn’t holding back, staying true to his promise, giving you exactly what you want. His thrusts are hard and rough and his hands on your neck, tightening around you. Your head starts to become woozy. Your body feels light and the only feeling you can focus on right now is the way his cock is drilling into your tight hole. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, not that it matters because he has your vision blocked as well.

Your screams do nothing but fuel Sylus’ thrusts. His eyes remain on your face, which has the messiest and most beautiful expression right now, making his cock harder than it already is inside you. He feels like he’s about to burst. As much as he wants to fill your stomach up with his thick cum, he still has to break you.

As his cock keeps on hitting that sensitive spot inside of you, it doesn’t take long for you to reach your first orgasm. Your back arches, pressing up against Sylus’ torso. Sylus grunts above you as he feels your walls suddenly grip onto his cock. However, this doesn’t faze him at all. Despite being in the middle of an orgasm, Sylus keeps on fucking into you. He does remove his hand from your neck though, letting you cry out loud. He moves his hand on one of your legs and brings it from his waist to his shoulder.

He leans over, using his free arm as a support and fucks you deeper. That immediately brings you to your second orgasm.

“Sylus!” you cry out. “It’s too much! Please stop! Oh god! Oh fuck!!”

He slows down a bit, swallowing your screams with a deep kiss. His tongue dominates yours, swirling it around and sucking on your lower lip. “You know your safe word, love. Would you like to use it?” he asks, voice a bit gentler.

You purse your lips and shake your head. “Please keep on fucking me,” you plead. “I want your cock, Sir. Please let me have your cum inside me!”

“That’s right, kitten. I don’t want you to stop begging, you hear me?”

Without waiting for you to answer, he fucks you as rough as he was fucking you earlier. The slapping of skin to skin blends in with your cries. Your whole body feels so sensitive, each pleasure that his cock is sending throughout your body feels like it’s tripled. You don’t know where your hands are going anymore. You’re reaching for any type of anchor you can hold onto.

“I’m gonna cum again!” you cry out. “Sylus, please, it’s too much!!”

“Hold it in,” Sylus orders.

“No, I can’t!” you cry out. “Please…! I can’t cum anymore!”

“Hold it for me or I’ll let you keep coming for the rest of the night,” Sylus warns through gritted teeth.

You bite down on your lips, pulling on the sheets, trying to focus on everything else but the pleasure building up in your nerves. You do your best to relax your entire body, but Sylus starts to suck and bite on your neck. His fingernails are digging into your hips as he grips them in place while he slams his own hips against you.

“Fuck,” he growls. “I’m close. You better fucking come with me, sweetie.”

Your body automatically responds on its own, immediately tensing up as you feel your orgasm start to build up once again. He lets go of your hips before reaching for your head, slipping his hand underneath, and gripping your hair. He presses a deep kiss against your lips. His thrusts begin to stutter before he fully buries himself deep inside you. Your whole body twitches as you come again for the third time, the sensation elevated because of the feeling of Sylus’ cum inside of you.

Sylus pulls away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. You breathe each others’ air as the two of you come down from your high. He lets go of your hair and begins to caress your cheek. He straightens himself and slowly pulls out. He sucks in a breath as he watches his own cum ooze out of your hole. He forces himself to snap out of it and get off of the bed to head towards the bathroom.

You whine at the loss of his warmth.

A few seconds later, you can feel his presence once again. You feel a warm damp towel being pressed up against your hole. You realize that Sylus is cleaning you up, wiping your crotch area, stomach, and thighs. You then feel his arms underneath you and he fixes your position on the bed. He disappears once again and comes back with a new clean towel. He wipes your entire body this time. He cleans the makeup off of your face as well. The whole time, you’re in and out of your consciousness.

Sylus disappears one last time. When he comes back, he lays down beside you. He’s entirely naked this time, but smells like soap. He must have taken a quick bath. He gathers your limp form in his arms, basking you in his warmth once again. You feel his fingers caressing your back. You snuggle up against him and he lets you. The last thing you remember that night is the soft humming of your voice and the soft kiss he presses on your forehead.

“You belong only to me, kitten. Remember that.”

[adventuringblind]

Hi, would you be able to write Oscar Piastri x Shy!reader. Maybe she’s absolutely stunning so other drivers go up to her and flirt with her but she doesn’t respond. Then they see her with Oscar and are a bit shocked.

Thanks 🤍✨

Shy

Oscar Piastri x reader

Genre: Fluff

Request: yes :)

Summary: Sometimes being shy makes people want to know more

Warnings: terrible flirting

Notes: I cracked myself up writing this because I am terrible at fluffy things. I love it.

Masterlist

To say you're shy is not exactly the word you would use. More like... particular.

Your words are few, and you like talking to the people who matter most in your life. Mingling at parties is not something you get joy out of.

When your friend decided to drag you out for the night, you were already frustrated. Even more so when everyone seemed to want to talk to you about their personal lives and amazing achievements.

Then there was Oscar.

You hid from the party in a quiet corner. The breath you'd been holding finally escaping through your teeth. Until He came around the corner.

His stupidly pretty eyes and fluffy hair caught you off guard. You blame the alcohol you had to help you get through this event.

"I take you your not one for parties?"

You wanted to say something snarky and sarcastic. But his voice was far to pleadent to let you do such a thing.

"It's okay, I'm not either, wanna get out of here?"

A simple proposal that changed everything. Oscar kept conversation going, and if you didn't feel like talking, he didn't care.

Sometimes, you would just bask in the comforting silence of each other. Words became unnecacry.

He obviously made the first move as you were far too shy to attempt an advance.

You blushed a lovely shade of red when he kissed you the first time.

And now you're here, traveling the world with him as much as possible, watching him race. It's funny how things work out.

You spend time walking around the paddock looking for the few friends you'd made. Lando being one of them. He teased you and Oscar relentlessly because of how private you are. The papaya colored Brit seemed to be the only one who knew you two were dating.

Other drivers had asked on multiple occasions if you were with Lando. The majority of them thought you were someone's relative and tried to hit on you.

The awful pick-up lines were becoming a running joke in the McLaren garage.

Finally, it became too much for you. The reporters wanted to know who you were. The drivers would nit leave you be despite your best attempts at politely telling the to 'fuck off.' And the fans were starting to get out of hand.

"You sure you want to do this? If your not comfortable with it I can always talk with the PR team."

"Yes, but this way will make them all shut up."

"Fair point."

You walk into the paddock with the two papaya boys that day. Again, you could see people's wheels turning.

Oscar dragged you to one of the skysports reporters, knowing they would be the best ones to get their point across.

Lando pulls his phone out to record, and Daniel, Esteban, and Carlos, who'd been trying to win you over, sidle up next to him. Confused as to why you're standing with Oscar, your hands intertwined.

"Oscar, it's great to see you! Can I ask who the lovely lady standing with you is?" Greets an enthusiastic Laura Winters. You'd always liked her the most.

"Actually, Laura, if it's alright with you, I have a request."

Laura eyes him skeptically as he whispers something in her ear. She nods enthusiasticly, which is a good sign to you.

Oscar turns to you and takes your hands in his. You were expecting him to kiss you. Prepared for it all week. You'd already deleted your social media.

It's a real shock when he gets down on one knee, pulling a box out of his pocket.

Lando is squealing in excitement. The drivers next to him stand frozen, their mouth hanging wide.

You mimick that.

"So I know we planned to just kiss so everyone would finally leave you alone, but I thought this would be even better." A blush creeps across his face, and Laura is grinning so widely you think it might fall off. "I've known since pretty early on that I wanted to spend my life with you, regardless of if anyone says we're too young. I've never cared what they thought, and I'm not starting now. You are the most amazing person I've had the pleasure of meeting. Your witty comments reserved only for me make me feel incredibly lucky. You make me feel important, and I hope I make you feel the same. I want that, forever and always. So, marry me?"

Just like with most times in your life, words don't come easy. You manage to squeak a quiet yes, barely Audible to anyone but Oscar. But he's trained his ears to hear everything you say.

He places the ring on your finger and spins you around in utter joy, landing a perfectly placed and loving kiss to your lips.

Everyone is clapping for you, and you couldn't be happier than I'm this moment. The rest of the world is falling away.

The drivers next to Lando are still processing.

"Did we ever have a chance?" Asks Daniel finally.

Lando snickers. "Afriad not, mate. She's been trying to tell you guys, and you didn't take her reactions as a hint. Looks like you wasted your time on a girl who had her heart stolen."

[op-81-lvr]

F1 X Reader; Role Reversal series Masterlist

~

I keep seeing these and I am such a whore for them so I though I might give writing one a go! If anyone has any ideas I could add feel free to drop them in my inbox is open

Reader is a driver in all fics, they pretty much just steal their partners career because it’s just easier to make things flow instead of rejigging the grid completely.

I have a million other works I could be posting right now but this idea has been plaguing my thoughts

~

~ 💶 Teamprincible!Max Verstappen x Fem!reader

Formula 2 retiree Max Verstappen becomes the new team principal for Red Bull, making him the youngest principal on the grid. He comes with the goal of getting you your fourth championship.

~ 💪🏻 PhysicalTherapist!Oscar Piastri x Male!reader

When you get into a pretty horrific crash that costs you the rest of the season Oscar is there to pick up the pieces and help nurse your leg back to health.

~ 📸 Photographer!Lando Norris x Fem!reader

Lando Norris is a famous photographer for TIME magazine. It just so happens that his girlfriend wins woman of the year the year he is set to take the photo shoot.

~ 💍 TrophyHusband!Charles Leclerc x Male!reader

Charles Leclerc-(L/N) lives a lavish life, he has his dog and his rich husband whos job allows him to travel around the world. He gets on with the other WAGs and becomes something of an icon.

~ 🧁 Baker!Carlos Sainz x Fem!reader

Carlos Sainz owns a sweet little bakery in a small little town in Spain, you being in Spain for the Barcelona GP decided to go exploring and stumble across this quaint little bakery (Much to your nutritionalists distress) .

~ ✂️ Stylist!Lewis Hamilton x Male!reader

Your PR team is fed up of their 7 time world champion showing up to the paddock dressed in nothing but team kit so they hire a stylist for you.

~ 🔪 Profiler!George Russell x Fem!reader

(Changed from Journalist!George Russell)

You and George have tried to keep your relationship under wraps what with you being in the public eye and him working for a government agency. That is until drivers begin being targeted at Silverstone. (Loosely based on my current criminal minds obsession except George works for the NCA and not the FBI)

~ 🍜 Food blogger!Yuki Tsunoda x Masc!Reader

While traveling around the world with you for Grand Prix Yuki takes advantage of the different cultures and cuisines to add to his food blog that he runs.

~ 🐾 Veterinarian!Alex Albon x Fem!Reader

Alex Albon is the best boyfriend anyone could possibly ask for. He is such a softie especially around your two cats and especially when he’s taking care of them while you’re travelling for work.

~ 🎞️ Actor!Daniel Riccardo x Male!Reader

(Request!) Daniel Riccardo meets you at an event and instantly just assumes you are another product of nepotism (which may not be totally incorrect). However as the night goes on and you become closer (and drunker) Daniel is absolutely smitten with the F1 driver before him

[trancylovecraft]

Since you do VERY dark subjects and such, do expect me to request for Mammon often LMAO

Okay so--

General HC's for Mammon with reader who is his GF?

(HELLUVA BOSS) YANDERE! MAMMON x GIRLFRIEND READER: Headcannons

RECEIPT ✂- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

BARISTA'S NOTE: EEEEEE! sorry this one took so long!! i'm happy you requested this cause AGHHHHH I LOVE THIS PINE TREE MAN!!! favourite character frfr. if you ever do request when open then PLEASE go as dark as you like, trust me, i enjoy writing it :D

FANDOM: Helluva Boss

Thank you for ordering!

Come again soon!

• Oooh! Intresting!

• I headcannon Mammon as a possessive, Manipulative and controlling kinda yandere. Mostly coming from his position as the King of greed.

• Especially once you’ve gotten in a relationship with him these traits are tenfold.

• Mammon views you as his possession, And a valuable one at that. You are his, He likes showing you off too as he brings you around his workplace and flaunting you like jewellery

• If anyone dares to touch what is his, Mammon would not hesitate to absolutely crush them. It doesn’t matter if its a creepy fan or a close family member. He doesn’t care, They’re getting obliterated.

• Mammon doesn’t show his care for you, Deeming it as unprofitable. But he does care even though he insults and berates you often, Even when it gets physical, He does love you.. He does! Don’t you realise this is all because he loves you..?

• He manipulates you into staying with him by promising you mountains of luxury. Whatever pleasures and desires you may want will be served on a silver spoon, Especially after a physical argument (Though you don’t know that its solely so you don’t leave)

• No one really knows how you two got together, One day you just showed up sitting next to him while watching one of his shows.

• You could’ve started out as a performer trying to get to the face of his brand, And Mammon, Somehow grew a liking for you more than just your monetary value.

• You could also have been a PR stunt, Him paying you to be his partner. Mammon, The King of Greed getting in a relationship? Preposterous! It would only drive more people to his shows just to see if they were true, Making more money.  

• But he doesn’t know what attracted him to you. Maybe it was your cunning nature, Your lust for more and more. Or maybe it could’ve been your genuine creativity, A want to make out of passion and not pennies.

• Either way, You’re both in a relationship now, Hooray!

• Though the quality of your bond really depends on how you react to his rather unsavoury tendencies.

• If you’re fine with it/have Stockholm syndrome then its gonna be a much easier time with him.

• You’ll be taken out with him more, Mammon likes boasting about you and how much of prize you were to have as a girlfriend. He’ll tone down his insults to banter and the amount of gifts you get will be increased tenfold.

• Mammon enjoys taking you out on expensive dates, Restaurants in the lust ring with a bottle of their most fine wine being opened in your favour. It’s only on these dates you can really see Mammon have something of a soft side, Giving disguised compliments and maybe even a genuine smile or two.

• You’ll be much more free, Being able to roam around his place of living freely, Ability to go out shopping without him (But, With a good few bodyguards, That is) And the right to go do what you want.

• Though Mammon does dictate what you wear and will order you to come to certain events, You don’t mind as you believe you’re just spending time with the Christmas tree you call your boyfriend.

• Physical touch is also a big thing for him, Also being a display of ownership. An arm around you, You on his lap or simple goodbye kisses are all too common for the both of you.

• Its sweeter, Even though the glasses you buy are rose-tinted, You enjoy the nicer moments.

• However if you’re considered unruly, Actively don’t reciprocate his obsession and god forbid try to escape..

• You’ll be tossed into a cage, One of the carnival trailer ones where they keep animals. That's where you stay, Not his expensive condo. You won’t be spoiled with rich foods and pleasures beyond your imagination, Only being served with what the show dogs are being fed with.

• If you want to act like a bitch, You’ll be treated like one. That’s what Mammon thinks. He’s pissed that you don’t appreciate him for everything he’s given you! All the money he’s spent! You’re his girlfriend, Why the hell are you acting like this.

• You won’t be taken out, Not until you learn how to behave. Mammon still visits you daily, No sweetness in his voice as he insults you and breaks you down with your biggest insecurities. He wants to break you, Just so he can build you back up into the perfect partner, Both for his reputation and his own selfish desires.

• If this process takes too long then Mammon will get angry and ramp up his abuse, Resorting to beatings or even torture just to get your mind into a mouldable state.

• Mammon is a horrible yandere to have, If you couldn’t tell.

• Sometimes when he’s in a better mood, He might toss you his leftovers or actually give you a blanket to sleep with instead of the horse hay you were using. Though he really does care, This is more of a manipulative tactic to get you to act better in order to get more stuff.

• If you ever do give up and give into him, Mammon would be stoked. He’d treat you as if nothing ever happened while you just had the worst experience of your entire life.

• You’d be absolutely traumatised, Even though Mammon does feel only the tiniest bit guilty, He ignores it in favour of just forgetting that it ever happened.

• The only way I ever see you escaping him is if you have connections with any other of the kings, Especially the more powerful ones like Beelzebub. If they care enough or you have a certain relationship (Platonic or otherwise) they could probably bail you out, Secretly of course, You’re going into hell’s witness protection after this.

• Mammon would be pissed, Yelling and destroying everything around him as he demands his employees to find you. Basically having the biggest tantrum of his life.

• When he finds you with the money he bribed people with, It really depends if you do have a connection to one of the kings because if so that would stop him from taking you back. Leaving him to absolutely explode over what happened, Just fuming and scheming a way to get you back.

• If you don’t have a connection to one of the kings, Then he’ll drag you back to the greed ring screaming. He won’t hesitate to yell obscenities and break your legs, Throw you into the trailer cage and start the torture all over.

• But hey! What can you expect?

• This is the king of greed, Of course he’ll never let you go.

• Not for a very, VERY long time.

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

[seeingivy]

espresso

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my dream girl fic

previous part linked here

songs mentioned: espresso by sabrina carpenter

--

--

you don’t feel attached to every song that you write. and most of the time, there’s songs that you scrap for various reasons – the songs you write just to write something, ones that don’t fit on the record that you’re producing or the vibe you’re going for, or the ones that you lockbox into a vault, for your eyes and your eyes only. 

at certain times, it was to remind yourself what it feels like to write and flex the muscles associated with it in your brain. just a way to combat writer's block when it plagued you. at other times, the words were pouring out of you, so fast that you felt like your hands couldn’t even keep up with what was spinning through your mind. 

some songs were too personal. there was an air to them, something that was being said that you had to keep to yourself, keep buried in your chest because no one was entitled to those thoughts but you. 

other songs had no substance at all. filled with embellishment at the very least – just sweet singing and good production in the background. you couldn’t care less about them. 

they varied. existed in abundance. and when mimi found out about it, she made a simple proposition that you agreed to, after much discussion. 

when you signed on with studio eleven, you made negotiation deals for mechanical and performance royalties for songs that you weren’t too attached to. you gave free reign for other people to take your songs and perform them, change them up a little bit to fit their style, as long as you were still cited as the writer and got money for every time it was performed. 

you can still hear mimi’s words in your mind – if you’re doing the work, why not get paid for it? 

in the beginning, you felt possessive. that those were your words, and your words only, so why should someone else be entitled to sing them? but as time went on, you became more malleable to giving up control over it and sharing. soft encouraging words from mimi about money, getting on the good side of other creators, mixed in with every other reason that made you sign it all away. 

most of the time, it worked out fine. gave a few of the associated signed artists something to perform, to add in the middle of their record, and that put a little bit of money in your pocket. 

hell, sometimes you even got credited in award nominations for it. 

the current situation that you’re in though, seething over the fact that aimee will be performing this song with jake in two days, is the exact reason you didn’t want to sell your songs. 

they’d fall into the wrong hands. they’d be used against you. they wouldn’t be yours anymore, not in the ways that it mattered at least. 

the proposition meant that aimee lynch could buy one of your songs – one of the songs that you wrote about jake, with jake – and claim that she was the one who wrote it. that she was the one who wrote it with him. 

that the things you wanted to keep close to your chest would be for everyone to listen, interpret, and manipulate. other people could claim your feelings as their own, your thoughts, your words as something that they made out of thin air. something that they felt. 

that was the feeling that caused the most anger. the searing pain, that made you see blood red. having something stolen from you. again. 

“there has to be some rules about this type of thing. she can’t claim that it’s her intellectual property and say that she wrote it, can she?” eren asks. 

mimi shakes her head. after almost an hour and a half of questioning, from three very overbearing and well meaning friends, had fried her brain – you could tell that much.

you suppose that she should count herself lucky that megumi wasn’t able to attend due to his pr events, because without fail, he was always the worst of the bunch. and had a horrendous problem with mincing his words. 

“technically, they did credit y/n as one of the writers on the song if you look. i’m guessing that they changed a few lyrics here and there, since aimee and jake are listed as writers too.” mimi responds. 

“jake was an original writer on that song. we wrote it together.” you seethe. 

that’s the last time you share your songs with anyone. 

you can see historia and mikasa exchange a look with one another from the corner of your eye, something you guess is warranted by the vitriol laced in your voice. they were always wary when it came to these types of things, always a little nervous when it came to anger that you held in a reserve, that was almost never ending. 

they were shocked at how angry you could get. and while any rational part of your mind would be inclined to take a step back like they suggested, out of good faith of their concern, your anger always won out. 

most of the time, it felt like sheer spite was the only thing that kept you going. it was something that worked for you – so why would you do something else? 

“she’s allowed to change lyrics that y/n wrote?” mikasa asks. 

mimi shrugs. 

“it’s kind of murky waters when you take someone’s song as your own. they’re the ones who recorded and produced it, and since they properly credited as they were supposed to, so they can kind of do whatever they want.” mimi responds. 

eren groans, pinching the bridge of his nose, as he flops down on the couch next to you. 

“we can’t really police what they say. if she wants to say that she wrote the song with jake, there’s nothing that we can really say about that. she’s omitting information, for sure, but we…we can’t do anything about her lying.” mimi states, the tone in her voice final. 

“this wasn’t even one of the songs that she decided to sell. jake just handed it over to aimee because she asked, i’m assuming? they don’t have to ask for y/n’s permission?” historia asks. 

mimi pauses. 

“i’m assuming they got the same patent as the ones for the other songs, someone at the record label must have signed off on giving it up just because they assumed it was one of the scrapped songs. they couldn’t have taken it unless someone signed off on it here.” 

you can feel your eye twitch. 

“find whoever that is. who signed the song away.” you state. 

mimi shoots you one last apologetic smile as she leaves the room, pressing the phone to her ear as she slips through the door, and you sink down into the couch. knowing her, she was going to try her best to do damage control behind the scenes for whoever did sign your song away, just to save face and make sure that someone didn't lose their job.

her immediate retreat is one that sends historia and mikasa to their legs – their hands basically shoving eren to the side as the four of you squish onto the couch, their heads nestled against each of your shoulders. 

“what do you think happened? i mean…fully?” mikasa asks, the tone in her voice overexerted with an air of caution. 

you sigh. there was always more that met the eye with aimee lynch. things were always perfectly calculated, against your favor, and were never just from a sheer lack of dumb luck like she made it seem. 

you learned that the hard way. 

“if i’m guessing right, jake must have been really mad when i ended things with him. things were bad for a while and we basically fought the entire time at the end.” you state. 

“about?” mikasa asks. 

you shrug. 

“he’s really good friends with aimee or became really good friends with aimee towards the end of our relationship. seems she had some newfound interest in him. i…i had given him some idea of what she did and that it made me uncomfortable, but i guess she was pretty adamant and told him things on the side as well. he basically told me that he was allowed to be friends with whoever he wanted to be friends with and i couldn’t stop him.” you respond.  

“why he’d want to be friends with her is lost to me in the first place.” eren states. 

“either way, i’m assuming his ego is just hurt which is why he’s so keen on biting back right now. you know, with obsessed and everything. i’m sure he’s convinced that i loved him so much that i wouldn’t drag his name through the mud, even though he was the one who did it to me first.”

you pause. 

“it’s entirely intentional too. he knows that i wanted to release state of grace as one of the songs for the next album, him and aimee probably talked to someone here through her dad, and got the song first since i had already recorded the demo and given the lyrics.” you respond. 

“first things first, once mimi finds out whoever it was, they have to get fired.” historia responds. 

you nod thoughtfully.

“any ideas for a song?” mikasa asks. 

you shake your head. 

“i’m not sure if that’s the right move here. only because they both know me so well.” 

after almost six years of making music, there were certain fast facts and facets of the music industry that you learned very quickly. 

first and foremost – it was almost never about the music. not about the art. at least not for anyone else that was attached to the music besides the songwriters and the producers. 

the first priority is to get signed with a record label. the second priority is to make sure that you stay signed with your label – meaning you have to meet certain quotas, have your albums reach a certain standard of commercial success, and getting nominated for a few awards here and there. 

second – some music sells and some music doesn’t. if you find something that sells, you have to hold on to it and make sure that it doesn’t run off. even if that means being repetitive, even if that means creating songs that are similar – against your better creative instincts. 

there was one thing that you found out quickly. people loved love songs. but loved when you made angry, spiteful ballads aimed at people you were fighting with even more. 

and third – the image is everything. if you’re able to successfully market yourself – market the image and the persona – the fans will lead you to success. in your case, you had pinned the image down to a perfect craft. 

it was simple. people weren’t too fond of you. granted, that was a given – with so many people in the industry, there was bound to be some disagreements. ex-boyfriends who irritated you, talked about you in the press and sullied your good name. 

and your response was always the same. writing scathing songs about them, leaving hints and details in the lyrics and music videos so people would know that you were talking about them, so that it would give people something to talk about – and more importantly, a reason to listen. 

an image so perfectly curated that new releases almost promised attention, because people knew that you would be saying something in response to what had been floating around about you. 

it worked well in your favor most of the time. but you were fighting fire with fire on this one, because aimee lynch is surely the type to retaliate, someone well versed on your public image since she was the one who helped you curate it.

“i would obviously feel inclined to write a song about them, but i feel like they’re smarter than that. knowing them, they’ve probably stolen another song that they’re planning on using against me after the fact.” you mumble. 

there’s a dejected sigh from the group of them. 

“i can tell that she puts a lot of thought into the little cat and mouse game that the two of you play all the time.” mikasa states. 

“i fear she has nothing else to do besides play games with me. and it helps her image, which only gives her more reason to do it at this point. i know better than anyone that drama sells.” you respond. 

eren pushes up off the couch, pacing around the room and haphazardly messing with his air, as he thinks out loud.

you’re not sure why he does it, because every solution that he offers is some type suggestion involving a violent interaction where you shut her up for good. 

and while you would be inclined to take his advice, you avoid it against your better judgment. even your anger had its limits.

“can’t you steal her song back or something? talk to someone at dancing lady and do it right back?” eren asks. 

“as if they would give up a song of hers so freely. i’m sure they’d all go running and tell her dad right away.” you murmur. 

“you just have to hit her where it hurts, you know? like she’s clearly trying to make a point by taking something of yours, so you just have to do it back.” historia states. 

you scoff. 

“cool. let me just go steal her generational multi-million music empire while i’m at it.” you state. 

historia rolls her eyes. 

“you know i didn’t mean it like that. but you know, you just have to find some way to make her look like an idiot. someone who isn’t scared of her and isn’t particularly fond of her either, you know?” historia asks. 

that’s when the thought comes back to your head. the exact words that had been said to you only a day prior, that were entirely lost to you in the mix of the aimee mess. 

“trust me, the thing that pissed her off the most about me is that i didn’t take her side and took yours instead, y/n. you just have to find someone that will rally on your side that would drop her like that.” historia finishes, snapping her fingers in the air for effect. 

she doesn't even finish her sentence before you're running out the door to the closest studio.  

--

--

“you’re so skilled with balls.” 

sukuna rolls his eyes, only to turn to his left and find what might be his most agitating co-star, satoru gojo. 

“you have to know you sound like an idiot when you say that.” sukuna states. 

satoru frowns. 

“what did i say wrong?” he asks, the hint of a gleaming smile in his eye. 

“you should invest in a tape recorder. listen to the tape back at the end of the day and do some reflection.” sukuna states, shoving the bottle of gatorade against his chest. 

sukuna would rather die than tell satoru that he was his personal favorite to film scenes and do press with. there’s a plethora of things, irritatingly enough, that make sukuna so fond of satoru. 

the fact that he was so skilled at interviews, that without asking, he spoke well of sukuna despite the backlash that he was currently receiving, that he tried to support him in anyway that he could.

even if sukuna made missteps, he would never be one to say anything about it. only the one to pick him up and bring him back. 

“did you ever think about going pro? you’re kind of good at this shit.” satoru states. 

“i’m not that good. you guys are all just terrible.” sukuna responds. 

that much was obvious from how badly the other team was losing. and the fact that half of them had fell face first onto the court already. 

in their last few days of press, the marketing team for the show decided that the select members of cast were going to be participating in a charity all-stars basketball game. it was one of the most anticipated events of the year, with celebrities being on both teams, and special surprise performances for the halftime show. 

the combined sales of the tickets, signed jerseys, and meet and greets raised tens of thousands of dollars, and all in all, it was one of the better events that sukuna found himself being forced to attend. he liked meeting the kids, getting to sign jerseys for people who had chosen to buy his, and getting to take pictures with fans. 

he liked the company at the event a little less. considerably less. sukuna looks over to the other side of the court and catches sight of kim and aimee on the other side of the court, posing for the camera by pressing a kiss to each other’s cheeks, before leaning back in their chair, entirely bored.

the glee filled expressions were dropped the second the camera man walked away, something he had seen more than a hundred times before. 

satoru follows sukuna’s line of vision, before smacking him on the back. 

“did you talk to them?” satoru asks. 

sukuna shakes his head. 

“shoyo would like…skin me alive. and i’d rather keep it lowkey for today since the premiere is tomorrow.” sukuna responds. 

satoru nods, almost like he’s mulling the thought over. sukuna finds himself distracted all together, only because it’s the first time that sukuna’s able to ogle this jake character in the real light. 

he finds it odd that someone as accomplished and skilled as you would ever consider dating him in the first place. he’s not entirely sure what you saw in him.

“satoru?” 

“yeah?” 

“what do you know about that guy?” sukuna asks, pointing over to where he’s seated on the bench, using a towel to wipe the sweat from his brow. 

“who? oikawa?” satoru asks. 

sukuna shakes his head. 

“next to him.” sukuna states. 

“jake?” satoru asks. 

sukuna nods. 

“just that he’s full of shit.” satoru states. 

“well i could have parsed that much out myself, dumbass.” sukuna responds, shoving him in the side. 

the lights in the stadium immediately dim, pink lights focused on the center of the court, and fog machines encasing the entire floor in a translucent sheen. there’s a booming voice that comes out of the speakers, that nearly makes sukuna jump out of his seat from being startled. 

“ladies and gentleman, please welcome our very last performer, our very special half-time show guest, y/n l/n.” 

sukuna nearly jolts up in his chair as the lights flash in the center of the court – to the sight of you wearing a light pink crew neck and a white tennis skirt – with a light pink ribbon tangled into your hair. 

sukuna grabs satoru by the collar, all but pulling up to stand close to him, so he can whisper in his ear. 

“was she always on the setlist?” sukuna asks. 

“don’t think so. i would have remembered that.” satoru mumbles back. 

Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso

Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso 

sukuna supposes that it should be a bad sign that this is the second time in a few days that he finds himself being mesmerized by your presence.

and he figures that it’s a good sign that the two of you have ended up in the same room, at the same time – so he can make his case again. he could mastermind something if he thought about it hard enough. 

“dude. you’re like fucking drooling.” satoru  whispers. 

“shut the fuck up.” sukuna responds, shoving him to the side as he leans forward, trying to glean a closer look. 

past his line of vision, sukuna can spot three very irritated faces. jake, kim, and aimee – matching scrunched up irritation on their faces, each of them typing very fast on his phone. he knew enough about you to know what you were doing here – trying to spite them right to their faces. 

Too bad your ex don't do it for ya Walked in and dream came trued it for ya Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya I know I Mountain Dew it for ya That morning coffee, brewed it for ya One touch and I brand newed it for ya 

sukuna watches as you turn around, obscuring his sight of the three of them, and look right at him. sukuna can’t help but do it again, absentmindedly lift his hand to wave at you just like he did a few days prior – at the very least, just to get confirmation that you really are looking at him – just to get exactly what he wants. 

you wink back, sparing a laugh into the microphone as you stop singing and throw the sparkly microphone in your hand to one of your backup dancers. 

sukuna can feel his heart pounding in his chest – no, he can feel it drop to his stomach – as he watches you pull the pink crewneck over your head, only to reveal that you’re wearing his jersey – the jersey with his last name embossed on the back – underneath. 

it’s one of the most overwhelming feelings he’s had, a wholehearted and blissful exhilaration that pounds in his chest, coupled with the fact that there’s a resounding sound of cheers that erupt after the fact are music to his fucking ears. 

I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer Oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger My twisted humor, make him laugh so often My honey bee, come and get this pollen

Too bad your ex don't do it for ya Walked in and dream came trued it for ya Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya I know I Mountain Dew it for ya That morning coffee, brewed it for ya One touch and I brand newed it for ya

“you’re such a dick. you weren’t going to tell us all that you guys were dating?” satoru asks. 

sukuna swallows hard.

did this mean that the two of you were dating? 

“hey, earth to fucking dumbass. are you so mesmerized that you can’t form a sentence?” suguru  asks, joining him at his side, the tone in his voice teasing as sukuna shakes his head. 

sukuna can’t even muster an irritated look to give back to satoru. or a retort back to suguru. only because he’s too elated, too excited that you’ve agreed with his plan – if that’s what this meant. 

“who fucking wouldn’t be mesmerized by that?” sukuna mutters. 

“that’s real cute, dude. the espresso thing.” suguru states. 

“what espresso thing?” sukuna asks. 

“you know. because you own the coffee shop and shit? isn’t that what she means?” suguru asks. 

of course that’s what you meant. 

if there was one thing he learned from the interviews and songs that he listened to, it was that you didn’t do things haphazardly. that every move that you made was intentional, because you knew people would connect the dots.

meaning, that at the very least, you were acting in his favor right now. and had agreed to be his girlfriend. 

sukuna can feel his heart pounding as you give one last wave to the cheering crowds, yanking your ear pieces out and letting them hang around your shoulders as you walk up to him. the sweet grin that you give him is one that sukuna can’t help but return. 

he’s so happy he might just kiss you on the spot right now. 

you place your hands behind your back as you give sukuna a sweet smile. only to turn immediately to his left and look at satoru. he can't help but feel dejected.

“hi.” you state. 

he watches as satoru spits the gatorade back into the bottle, before standing up and running his hands through his hair. sukuna narrows his eyes at satoru and prays to god that this isn’t the time that he chooses to be an idiot. 

“hi?” 

you extend your hand out.

“i’m y/n.” 

there’s a sudden irritation in sukuna’s chest that suddenly festers when satoru lifts your knuckles to his lips and presses a kiss against your hand. 

“satoru. satoru gojo.” he responds. 

you give him a smile. 

“cute.” 

you try not to relish in the way that sukuna clicks his tongue in his cheek, trying his best to hide his frustration, as you look up at satoru. 

“to be honest, i kind of came here with an ulterior motive.” you state. 

“my favorite kind of motive.” satoru responds. 

you walk over to satoru’s side, linking your hand in with his as you stand in between him and sukuna and point to the other side of the court. 

“you see that empty black seat right there?” 

“next to aimee lynch?” 

“that’s my seat.” 

satoru looks down at you, as he leans forward.

“we can’t have you sitting there.” he whispers. 

“only if you insist.” you offer. 

satoru puts his bottle down and you watch as he retreats to the other side to retrieve the chair, as you turn over to sukuna and give him a bright grin. you can tell that sukuna’s making his best efforts to glare at you, but the smile on his face is deceiving him. 

“hi lavagirl.” you state. 

sukuna grins in response. 

“her hair is a little more neon than mine, but it’s always a pleasure, sharkboy.” sukuna responds. 

you give him a smile, noting the flashing cameras at your side, as you bring your hands forward, holding the sharpie up in between the two of you. 

“what’s this?” sukuna asks. 

“i got one of the last jerseys. it wasn’t signed.” you ask. 

sukuna feigns shock, crouching down so that the two of you could be eye to eye. it’s the first time that you think about how much taller he is than you. 

“my poor baby. we can’t have that, now can we?” sukuna jests. 

you shake your head as sukuna smiles, taking the pen from your fingers, before signaling for you to turn around with his pointer finger. 

and it makes you shiver as he places one of his hands on your shoulder, taking the time to move the hair to the side of your shoulder before scribbling on your back. and that burning warmth that pools in your stomach gets even worse as his breath tickles your neck, before he leans over and presses a kiss to the nape of your neck. 

“one thing.” he whispers. 

you swallow hard, the whisper in his voice sending a shiver down your spine. 

“what’s that?” 

you watch as satoru walks up, placing the chair right next to his, as you and sukuna shoot him a smile. 

“try to rile me up and it’ll be more than that next time.”

you turn around, rolling your eyes at him, as you stand on the tips of your toes, leaning against his shoulder as you press a lingering kiss to his cheek. you can feel people lifting their phones to take a picture from your peripheral vision, as you pull back. 

satoru returns with the chair and doesn’t return alone, because aimee and jake are right behind him, hands balled into fists at their side as they walk right up to the two of you. sukuna seems to get the hint at the same time as you do, as he wraps his hand around your waist, pulling you closer as they approach. 

“y/n. sukuna.” aimee states, acknowledging your presence as she crosses her hands over her chest. 

“what can i do for you, satan?” sukuna asks. 

“what the hell is this?” aimee asks. 

sukuna looks down at you, offering you a confused look, before looking back at her. 

“me congratulating my girlfriend after her performance? what the fuck does it look like?” sukuna asks. 

girlfriend. you can tell that the word doesn’t roll over well, with either of them. but it sends the blood rushing right to your head, the warmth blooming in your cheeks.

“girlfriend? you’ve got to be fucking kidding.” aimee scoffs. 

“do i look like i’m kidding to you?” sukuna deadpans. 

“this is how you repay me after everything i did for you?” aimee asks. 

sukuna gives her a confused look. 

“what the hell did you do for me? besides give me a herpes scare?” 

you laugh into your hand, particularly at the fact that jake’s eyes go wide at his words. 

“i’d get checked if i were you dude. you never know.” sukuna adds, giving jake a smile. 

aimee turns over to you, pointing an accusatory finger your way, as she gives you a cold glare, a glare that you’ve seen hundreds of time, one that you used to cower to at one point. 

“you better watch yourself.” 

“she’s fine where she is. i’d suggest you fuck off while you’re ahead and quit embarrassing yourself the way you are.” sukuna responds. 

aimee rolls her eyes. 

“i hope that you know that i cheated on you with jake the entire time that we were together. while he was dating y/n.” aimee responds. 

sukuna laughs. 

“and i hope you know that i was never really into you in the first place. why would i be when she’s around?” sukuna responds back. 

you’re not sure if sukuna knows what he’s done. if he intentionally rubbed salt into the wound, into the exact wound that’s caused you so much pain at aimee's hands, but you can’t help but linger on it.

"don't forget that i was the one who broke up with you. not the other way around." sukuna states.

you ignore it. only because the pouty face that she makes as she retreats is one that fills you with so much joy, that has sukuna smiling down at you like he's the sun.

“do you want me to beat him up for you?” sukuna asks. 

“who, jake? he didn’t even say anything.” you respond. 

sukuna squints his eyes at you. 

“she just mentioned that he was cheating on you. and i’m figuring it’s with the last person that you would have wanted it to be.” 

“i mean. yeah.” you respond. “i’ll repeat. do you want me to beat him up?” sukuna asks. 

you shrug. 

“eh. not worth the trouble. sure his ego is bruised enough as it is.” 

sukuna narrows his eyes at you again, the whistle of the referee sending him back to the court as he presses one last kiss to your knuckles and you take a seat on the chair on the side of the court that satoru pulled up for you.

you aimlessly scroll through the texts on your phone. 

[mika]: WTF WERE YOU GUYS TALKING ABOUT 

[mika]: BRO SHE LOOKED SO PISSED

[hisu]: you’re so right he IS KIND OF CUTE

[hisu]: also song was TEWWW GOOD. you’re so beautiful i love you so much don’t ever die.

[eren]: I don’t see it. 

[mika]: shut up eren 

[megs]: Are you dating, Sukuna?

[megs]: I didn't even realized that you guys knew each other.

you look up from your phone to focus back on the game, only to find you’ve started paying attention at an opportune time. because you swear sukuna sticks his leg out to trip jake, sending him falling right to his face right as he runs past.

your suspicions are confirmed when sukuna gets flagged for it. you can tell that he doesn't seem to care too much, only because the smile on his face betrays him.

--

--

an: two dream girl chapters oopsie

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @timmytimmytuckyy @dreamxiing @mamamamamarga @skunabby @meisque @hoseokslefteyebrow @thepurpleempath @shrimphutao4ever @monic19 @najaemism @haitanibros0007 @catobsessedlady @luvs4kim @ri-sa20 @thejujvtsupost @invisible-mori @satoruslpipbalm @kyo-kyo1 @telepathicheartss @huhsthccvjh @sxnkuna @w31rdg1rl @lilalia3945 @multiplefandomthings @shotovhs @voids-universe @timetobegone @deeeeexx @livelovelaughisagiyochi @pelicanpizza @cowgirlikets @jeon-blue @phantomasmaniac @yoontaedotin @cowgirlikets @estrella-novella @theauthorunicorn @catastayy @ryumurin @kindadolly @th0tformikasa @r0ckst4rjk @you-always-made-me-blush @leave-rae-alone @lemonnotade @firelordazulaaaa @stuffeddeer

[honeipie]

ALL THAT GLITTERS

izuku midoryia x reader

synopsis: everything isn’t always as it seems

authors note: this is an old one that i just quickly finished. not proof read.

“deku look over here!”

“smile for the camera!”

“why is it that you’re leaving so early?”

izuku had his hand positioned at the small of your back. he led you through the hoard of paparazzi that was blocking your only way of escape. every time that he thought one of them was getting too close, he’d pull you in closer.

the flashes of the camera’s blinding you on your journey, but there was a moment when you finally saw a clear path. grabbing on tight to his hand, you quickly made your way towards the car leaving the paparazzi confused.

izuku got himself two strides in front of you just so he could open the car door.

always the gentleman.

you slid into the car with him following quickly after. there was a smile on your face watching as he escaped in the nick of time. laughter rang out seeing the paparazzi’s attempt to follow the now moving car down the street. you turned your body back to face the window on your side.

“that was fun”

“yeah”

a tired sigh passed your lips, but he didn’t turn to ask if you were to tired to walk when you got home. he hasn’t been doing that lately.

though to be fair, you hadn’t been doing things either. lunchboxes that used to be filled to the brim with homemade bento now sit empty and cold on the counter. the warm baths you used to fill for him after work run cold.

for the past year your relationship had changed. izuku got busier, and busier each day. this stopped those date nights you used to have at that secluded restaurant. and his night shifts ceased your light night cuddle sessions.

you had decided that if he was going to be burying himself in work, why not do the same?

volunteering had taken over most of your hours so you wouldn’t be in that big house all alone. it had filled a place in your heart that you thought you’d lost. seeing the smiles on people’s faces every time you’d give them a care package. or that laugh of children when you did something funny when you read at the hospital. and they loved you as well. a non-profit had reached out to you with a job offer.

your cheek was pressed against the leather of the car door, breathing slow and steady.

“you’re coming tomorrow right?” you asked without turning to him.

“to what exactly?” you didn’t even need to look to know that his eyes didn’t leave his phone.

“they’re opening the new wing of the hospital we’ve been working on. the one for research of rare diseases?” now you sat yourself up turning to him. he finally looked up eyes glazed over and confused.

“izuku cmon. i told you about this weeks ago. told you to put it in your calendar”

“y/n you know i’ve been busy. i told you if you had an event tell my assistant and she’ll put it in for me-“

you scoffed at his words.

“oh i’m sorry. i thought my husband, the man who lives in the same house as me, could take two fucking seconds to put something in his calendar. as if you’re not already always on your phone”

his body turned towards you. you saw the furrow of his brows and the squint in his eye.

“i don’t understand why that’s a problem? if you wanted me to come that’s all you had to do. remember what the therapist said-“

“since when do you listen to the therapist? remember when she said make time in your schedule for something other than your job?”

his pressed his lips together in a thin line. the coolness from your cheek had faded from the warm anger that was now flooding your body.

“okay, we’ve both made mistakes, and i’m sorry for mine. baby, you know i just can’t be everywhere at once”

“you could, just not for me” you mumbled under your breath “can you just go tomorrow? if it’s not for me it’ll be good pr for you”

silence, again.

“i’ll see what i can do”

“no, you won’t see what you can do. you’re going to show up with that deku smile on your face and pretend to be happy with me. i have been supportive through whatever,” you motioned between him and you “this is. i’ve went to your events, and i’ve played the picture perfect wife. now it’s your turn. because if you don’t show up i don’t know how much longer if this i can take” you pressed your two fingers against your forehead, your thumb landing on your cheek “for fucks sake.. ever since you’ve gotten that suit you’ve been on a rampage”

both of his eyebrows scrunched up as he turned to you “rampage? you mean saving the fucking city? why can’t you just be happy for me huh? i mean this is all that i’ve ever wanted you know that. so what? now you’re just deciding that because i’m a hero i’ve changed everything about myself?”

“i mean have you looked in a mirror lately? i don’t even recognize you izuku”

the car came to a rolling stop in front of the dream home he had bought for the two of you as soon as he cut his first hero check. he let out an annoyed puff of air out of his nose, head shaking “sorry i can’t slow down my life for you”

you opened your own door this time getting out without another word.

cameras flash once again to commemorate the new wing of the hospital, and yet izuku is nowhere to be found.

more questions flood in about his absence than about what good the wing will do for the community, because your life simply didn’t matter anymore.

izuku came home early evening that night. soft grunts as he leaned over to unstrap his boots and shed off the heaviest parts of his costume. his eyes settled on the hall closet you had designated just for his things. you always hated when he didn’t put his stuff in the closet where it belonged. with a sigh, he opened up the closet hanging his suit in a rather orderly fashion. it shut with a soft click which soon followed by the sound of his quiet footsteps through the house.

“baby.. i’m sorry i couldn’t make it today—“

the room was completely empty albeit the sundown rays that flowed through the huge windows you begged him for. gold ran across every surface making him squint just a little, but that wasn’t the only thing. a small shimmer of light reflected off of the countertops eventually capturing his attention. he walked closer, his steps constant and hushed. he picked up the object his face never changing.

your wedding ring.

the light shone through the diamond making fractures of light dance around the counter below. izuku’s throat went dry no matter how many times he tried to swallow and cure it.

he placed the ring back after what felt like forever moving his attention to the open patio door. every step he took felt like the same one over at over again. was he even moving at this point? when he felt the subtle heat of the fading sun he knew he had made it out. to you.

there you were. feet up on the couch hugging your knees close. there was a beer bottle in your hand. must’ve been half gone already. you turned your head to him for a split second before turning your focus back on the sunset. it was just too beautiful to ignore.

izuku rubbed one hand over his face. he opened the small fridge at the bar next to the patio taking out the same beer bottle. he sank next to you on the couch quickly cracking it open. it was just too beautiful to ignore.

[doromoni]

I hate you , right? | GR63

George Russell x Red Bull Driver! y/n

warnings : swearing

Summary : George was a little too attractive after the summer break.

“Oh fuck off Russell! Are you blind? Side mirrors are there for a reason! Learn to fucking use it! You almost cost me my race, dickhead!”

Y/N L/N the first ever female driver for the Red Bull racing team, only through sheer determination and hardheadedness was she able to achieve such an amazing feat.

Being the only female on the grid was hard enough as it is with misogyny and sexism biting at her rear , but adding a British asshole really did put the cherry on top on the cake of ass-hattery that Formula 1 offered.

“Not my fault you drive like a fucking lunatic, that turn was mine and you know it L/N! maybe next time learn how to actually drive rather than depending on your car”

The two drivers are at each other’s faces yet again . This had been a normal event, that even the teams have grown accustomed to the shouts and curses of each driver — whether its swearing at each other in the Red Bull garage or nearly pouncing and succumbing to physicalities at Mercedes. Y/N L/N and George Russell are sworn enemies in and off the racing track.

They used to be friends, best friends even. Both driving for the Mercedes driver academy with George racing in F2 while Y/N in F3. When George won the F2 championship, earning himself a seat at Williams ; Y/N then was promoted to a seat in F2 . A year later Y/N had won her own F2 championship, but no F1 seat was offered in Williams nor in Mercedes to the female driver. Another year had passed, George was offered a seat at Mercedes while Mercedes had no news for Y/N L/N. That was until a seat was offered by Red Bull — giving a shock to the whole motorsport world. As Y/N raced for the Red and Blue team , she had flourished and proved everyone who doubted her wrong.

No one knew how George and Y/N’s rivalry exactly started , but all hell broke loose when George collided with Y/N during the 1st lap and both had DNFed the race.

Y/N was furious and snapped , storming into the Mercedes garage straight to where the English driver was standing still holding onto his racing helmet— shoving him with all her strength into the garage wall. Their faces almost touching as unpleasant words were exchanged ; rendering both teams speechless and leaving them with a horrendous PR mess to clean up.

This time was no different. Y/N and George were at each other’s throat, only this time it was Y/N pinned to the wall inside George’s driver room . George tightening his grip on the Red Bull driver’s waist, leaning his full body weight on the girl who was squirming for release.

“What even is the problem Y/N? We’re both on the podium and you’re team got a 1-2. Stop being a child, it’s racing! What do you expect”

“My problem is you Russell! You’re so careless and aggressive, we could’ve crashed again. You never changed, George , you’re still the fucking same!”

George’s eyes darken as his face drew even closer to the female driver— his voice like honey, dripping as it lowered an octave.

“Yeah?!And you changed so fucking much, I don’t even recognize you anymore Y/N! Now all I see is a bitch obsessed with winning. Tough luck! You’re Verstappen’s teammate, you will always be second.”

Not backing down , Y/n drew herself closer to the english driver ,enough that their noses where touching. A teasing yet derisive smirk formed on her lip, tongue darting out wetting her lips. Catching George’s eyes , as it glanced down towards y/n lips.

“Oh how rich! Coming from the guy who’s living in Lewis Hamilton’s bloody shadow. Like I care what you see me as , you were blind from the very beginning.“

A deep chuckle vibrated in George’s chest , drawing shivers up Y/N’s back , as he said

“ I hate you”

“No, duh Sherlock. I hate you more”

His eyes quickly darting from her eyes to her lips , as if contemplating something. Having enough of his antics and taking matters into her own hands, Y/N fisted his Fireproofs as she brought him down to her level. As their Lips almost touched , rapid knocks on the door distracted them from their daze.

Suddenly realizing their positions , Y/n pushed George away from her. Fuming, the female driver parted ways and left the Mercedes garage with a huff ; wrapping up the first race of the seond half of the season with glares and silent threats. Not realizing what was on each other’s mind

“ Such a rude mouth, what i’d do to shut that up and get a taste”

“I need to control myself. I was ready to pounce on George and have my way with him. Damn him and his perfect hair and golden skin”

The Red Bull and Mercedes driver starting the other half season with pent up anger and sexual tension thick enough to suffocate.