#and it's not like the show itself lets you get over her

[princesssmars]

dry humping with abby aka car sex 2.0

nsfw, fxf smut. dry humping, boob stuff, scratching and pulling. just quick and freaky.

wc : 1.100

“yeah, just like that baby, fuck- show me how much you want it.”

look, you didn't start the day thinking you'd be dry humping your girlfriend into the driver's seat of her car until you were both breathless, but sometimes things like this just happen.

it was no fault of either of yours, anyway. you were equally dedicated to your studies as you were to each other, even holding hour-long study dates every thrusday that you'd yet to miss in months. but with finals just around the corner, both of you were strung thin, barely having the time to greet each other on the phone, let alone spend some quality time together.

so, of course, that had both of you very pent up. you were both studious, yes, but that didn't mean you didn't rock each other's worlds on the frequent occasion. but for the past three weeks, all you've gotten were rushed moments in the dead of night with your moans shared over a phone, hands aching with the force of your thrusts, and hearts aching at the shared sadness of not having your girlfriend there to soothe the ache for you.

so the second you finish your last final, you truly didn't have only sex on the brain when you told abby to pick you up afterwards, ready to spend the rest of the evening in the comfort of her bed and arms as you caught up over everything else that had happened in your lives recently.

but after stopping for some quick dinner and snacks at a store, you can't pretend to ignore how her large hand rests on your thigh, fingers inching higher and higher the closer she gets to her apartment. all it takes is a flutter of your lashes and a throaty moan before the blonde covers your entire cunt through your panties with her hand. and all it takes is a whimper and a buck of your hips before her other hand is roughly serving the steering wheel, finding an empty parking lot and parking the car near the back, away from the streets and any prying eyes that could witness what was going to happen.

it's rough and fast how she grabs you, unbuckling your seat belt for you and literally picking you up from underneath your thighs and dropping you in her lap, cutting off your surprised cackle with her lips crashing into yours.

“abs, fuck, abby-”

“i know, baby, god, i missed you-” she groans into your mouth, a large palm coming up to the back of your neck, pushing and gripping like she mesh the two of you together is she tries hard enough. it's not like you're any better, hands in a similar position on her bare shoulders and scratching at the freckled skin to draw more whines from her throat.

it's not even a few minutes before the sloppy make-out session isn't enough for you anymore, desperation taking hold as your hips start to grind down into hers, the friction of your jeans pushing into your clit sending pleasurable shocks throughout your entire body. abbys hand travels from your neck down to your chest, squeezing your breast through your shirt while her other hand anchors itself on your hip for leverage as she grinds herself up and into you.

seeing abby below you, writhing and panting as her head drops back onto the seat, adorable blue eyes lidded as they stare up at you on top of her only makes you feel hotter, hands rushing down to tear off your shirt to alleviate the heat and so that she can fully grasp your tits in her hand.

“god, you wanted this to happen, huh?” abby breathes, voice light as she takes notice of your very braless chest.

“says the one about to cum in her pants, ohhhh-” your rebuttal is cut off with a drawn out moan traveling up and out of your throat, head tilting back when abby’s mouth wraps around one of your nipples and starts to bite.

she always reacted when you talked back to her.

it's almost like a challenge to see who can bring the other over faster, with abby continuing her sucking and biting on your chest as you continue to scratch at her arms and pull at her hair. it's when her palm sneaks its way down to your behind and squeezes before giving it a harsh smack that you realize you're close to release, deciding some near-orgasm rambles are just going to have to do the job.

“abby, abby, feels s’ good, you make me feel so fucking good-”

“yeah? you like that, beautiful?” her voice is strained, hips bucking at an angle that you know feels just right on her oh so sensitive clit, her freckles barely visible with the intensity of her flush.

“yeah. missed you, missed your talking, your kisses, your fingers…”

“ohh, shit, nghh- baby…”

using the last bit of un-fucked out intelligence you have left, you wrap a hand around her wrist and yank her hand up to your mouth, keeping eye contact as you envelop two of her thick fingers into your mouth.

“missed having you inside me, absy.”

your shared orgasms are a quick sequence of intense events, abby’s moaning combined with her fingers thrusting deeper into your mouth triggering your own muffled cries as you use that last bit of energy to keep humping until you’re thoroughly satisfied.

when it ends, you're left lying on her chest, bodies at a slightly odd angle as she pushes the seat back as far as she can to make space for you without removing her skin from touching yours. after a minute of catching your breaths, you look up at her with your chin rested on her chest.

“guess we were a little pent up, huh?”

she laughs, a breathy and sweet sound that makes your heart flutter in your chest. “yeah, guess you could say that. someone seemed to enjoy it, though.”

“oh please, my throat is still sore because someone got a little too excited at the end there.”

“oh yeah?”

you don't get a chance to respond before you're somehow being lifted and placed in the backseat of the car, abby’s frame placed above you as her hands rest on either side of your head.

“then it’d only make sense if i made some other parts of your sore then, yeah?”

[doeeyeddiva]

soft for me — rafe cameron

a/n: first post!! this will be a series …. it didn’t start off as one but then I was like oh I can see this going places ;p this is also my first time writing in a while … hope someone enjoys it cuz I was giggling and kicking my feet writing it <3 I already have part 2 ready hehe....

warnings: age gap, younger reader (20), rafe in his 30s, kinda a sugar baby/sugar daddy vibe but not quite. rafe being a bit manipulative. no smut though, mostly just plot.

wc: 2k

you weren’t always focused on the road—you should’ve been—buuut, your thoughts had a habit of taking the wheel. one minute you’re wondering if you locked the front door, the next you’re trying to remember if you even brought your wallet. then you’re digging around, half-driving, half-searching.

can’t find it.

so now you’re spiraling. is this gonna be the time you get pulled over? if it is, you should probably have your lip combo ready—just in case you need to flirt your way out of it. and just like that, you’re in your head. not in your lane. not on the road. and then, a thump.

more like a crunch, like the metal of your car folding in on itself.

you could practically feel your heart fall out of your chest, you’d just rear ended someone’s very, very nice benz. poor you—you didn’t even realize it was a brand new 2025. “shit.” you whispered, eyes going shut for a moment.

on the other end of this little incident was rafe cameron.

“fuck!” he practically yelled out loud. his hand was lazily wrapped around the wheel before the car jerked forward. he was pissed, evident in how hard he was clenching his jaw. “are you fuckin’ serious?” he grumbles to himself, trying to get a glimpse of whoever just wrecked his car.

he was already running late for a meeting with a potential partner, and it wasn’t even the fact that he’d be late that pissed him off—it was the fact he’d be showing up in a busted car. no, absolutely not. he can’t show up like that, in that.

when the light turned green, he veered into the right lane and pulled over with so much speed it was unnecessary. he was revving too hard only to brake even harder a moment later.

you swallowed the lump in your throat and followed, your knuckles going white from how hard you were gripping the wheel. you felt so stupid, so desperate to turn back time and just, pay attention.. you’d never even been in an accident before, let alone one where it was entirely your fault. above all that, you were a mere college student, who spent half her paycheck on matcha lattes, incessant trinkets, and sephora sprees—you couldn’t afford an increase in your car insurance, even if you’d cut back on your spending.

as you pull up behind him, examining the damage, you tell yourself, “it isn’t that bad,” but you failed to understand that this was rafe cameron, and this car was a new addition to his collection—a collection of cars that he kept so insanely pristine, just as the day he bought them.

his door aggressively swings open, and he’s already storming towards you, tall, broad, and incredibly pissed. his brows were knit together, his jaw was clenched, but he was incredibly handsome.

“how fucking stupid do you have to be to hit me at a full stop,” his voice raises, getting louder with each step he makes closer. “do you even know how to–“ he pauses, just for a moment, his words faltering as he gets a good look at you; legs crossed nervously, a pout over your lips, all apologetic and gorgeous.

his jaw is still tight, but not from anger. it's more like his thoughts had shifted entirely, into something slightly more perverted.

“i know, i know—i’m so sorry,” you fumbled, backing towards your car, “i have my ID and insurance in here somewhere, gimme a second.” you bent into the driver’s seat, opening up your center console and rummaging around for what you needed. naturally, his eyes follow down your ass, then your legs, and he tries to get another look at your face before you find what you need and make your way towards him.

he goes dead silent. he doesn’t say a word—doesn’t even care to grab your insurance, just your ID, his eyes aiming straight for your date of birth. he reads the year.

twenty. you’re only twenty.

“tsk,” he shakes his head, holding back a smirk. “you’re not even old enough to drink.” his sudden shift in tone makes you nervous, more than before. just a moment ago he looked ready to call an attorney for what wasn’t even a big deal. one second he was screaming at you and now he appears, almost… amused?

he looks back up at you, the ID still in his hands. he crossed his arms, a scoff escaping his lips. you try not to lose yourself in his blue eyes. “how’d you even manage this, huh? you zone out? on your phone? daydreaming about boys?”

you could hardly process what was going on, you swallowed the lump in your throat that didn’t seem to go away, your breath hitching, “i–i don’t know, i’m just–“

“you’re just what?” he pushes, “stupid?”

your eyes meet his when he says that, holding eye contact despite feeling tearful. he leaned a little closer, “admit it,” he chuckles, “you’re a stupid girl who doesn’t know how to drive. doesn’t pay attention, wrecks my car..”

it’s like he was enjoying your silence, your lack of a comeback, until you spoke up. “look,” you whisper, and though your voice was low, and trembling, it was sure. “i am sorry, but i’m not stupid.

his lips formed into a smile, and his emotions flickered, like he was surprised. “no,” he shook his head, his voice low, “you’re not stupid. just, reckless, irresponsible. that’s different.” he nodded his head slowly, like he was thinking out loud. a dramatic sigh leaves his lips, a sigh that drags on. “still gonna cost you though.”

you glare at him, looking up at his face before internally rolling your eyes. at this point you were fed up. “okay. i’ll take care of it, then. just—can i have my ID back?”

he tilts his head to the side, a grin that’s not quite innocent creeps up on his face. “no.”

“no?” your brows shot up, you could not believe him. “you’re not allowed to do that.” little did you know, he did whatever he wanted.

“then take it from me.” he holds it out of your reach. there was this smug look on his face, like he was enjoying every bit of this twisted interaction. he pauses for a moment, finding your anger a bit cute.

“relax,” he takes a beat, eyes flicking down to your ID, to your name, saying it like he needs to remember it. “i’m not gonna disappear with it. you’ll text me, i’ll go finish up my meeting, you’ll come by my office and we’ll settle this.” he explains, slipping your ID into his pocket.

“this isn’t normal.” you try to fight the situation, but he doesn’t entertain your attempts, simply pulls out a black business card from his wallet, handing it to you with two fingers. “see you soon.” he said, stepping back into his car without another word.

you’d felt sick to your stomach ever since the accident, nauseated by both embarrassment, nerves, and a confusing feeling you couldn’t quite name. perhaps it was the way he looked at you, or the way you looked at him, like someone caught doing something wrong.

you absolutely hated how you handled it, but you told yourself you were young. too young to know better, too young to know how these things were supposed to go. you hadn’t even known if you were supposed to apologize or just hand over your name and information and wait to be sued.

and now, here you were, parked at the address on the card he gave you: Rafe Cameron. Private equity.

you glance up at the building. mirrored glass, impossibly tall. the kind of place you’d usually drive past without thinking, never knowing what actually went on inside. all you knew was that buildings like this didn’t serve people like you. inside were the very rich, or people who worked themselves tirelessly for the rich.

you scan the lot, expecting to see the same car you crashed into—but it’s not there. rafe had already switched it out, sent it in for repairs like the whole thing never happened.

eventually you mustered up enough courage to get out your own car, and force yourself into the building. you awkwardly stepped inside, tapping your freshly manicured fingers against the cold marble counter, glancing at the receptionist who couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge your presence.

you clear your throat. “i’m here to see rafe cameron?” you say, ask, your voice small and uncertain. “mr. cameron?” it was clear she was attempting to correct you.

“yeah, sure. him.” a scowl appears over your face, you didn’t appreciate being undermined. one thing for rafe to do it, but for some random receptionist? it was your last straw. or on the way to being your last straw.

“do you have an appointment?”

“no, but he asked me to—,”

“well, you’ll need to make an appointment. he doesn’t just see–,”

and then, as if summoned by the gods, the elevator dings open. but in truth, he’d been watching you from his office the moment you pulled into the parking lot. he leans casually against the wall, then pushes off to prevent the elevator doors from closing with one hand. “it’s fine, i asked to see her.” and with that, you were inside the elevator with him.

you could smell him, he smelled expensive, probably tom ford.

in his office, you hover awkwardly over his desk while he sinks into his seat. you hated that he was waiting for you to say something. “my ID?” you ask, arms crossed, an impatient sigh leaving your lips. he notices your sigh—it causes him to look up at you, like you were being dramatic. he fishes into his pocket, pulling it out and placing it in front of you.

"did you file a claim yet then?”

“maybe.” he shrugs, not giving you a direct answer.

you huff and lunge for your ID. “honestly, what the hell is your problem?”

“nothing.” he responds flatly, “just annoyed that some airheaded teenage girl fucked up my new car.” his shoulders shrug. he’s like a man and a boy at the same time.

you shake your head, “okay, truthfully? fuck you. i’m not a teenage girl, i’m a broke college student who works her ass off and hasn’t slept in 3 days trying not to fail my finals. and yeah, i was zoned out and hit your car but that doesn’t give you the right to to call me names. you can do whatever you want, file it, don’t file it, i don’t care.”

well, you did care—but that was besides the point right now. you turn and walk towards the door, but before you can reach it he’s already getting up from his chair and sliding in front of the door. he places one hand up in surrender.

“okay, okay, shit. i’m sorry, alright? relax.” you pause, now you were the unamused one. you barely moved your eyes to glance at him, but even being this close, feeling the fabric of his clothing brush against you, it drove you just as mad as it drove him to be around you.

“i didn’t file the claim,” he says, voice low, like it cost him something to admit. “and i won’t.”

you just look at him, quiet and unreadable.

he glances away before speaking again. “i’ll fix your car. i’ll pay for it.”

you blink, brows pulling together, not sure if it’s confusion or surprise. “why would you do that?” you ask, not defensive, just soft. curious.

he looks down at the floor for a moment too long, like he, too, is figuring the question out himself. but deep inside, he knows the answer. “i don’t know,” he mumbles, “maybe i just don’t like the idea of you driving around in that thing.”

you have your chance to leave, to refuse his offer, and part of your mind tells you to just run, but you don’t want to leave just yet.

[xxxnekomii]

title: highlight compilation of toji’s shy girl’s first time on stream!

description: toji invites his partner to join him on stream :3

category: amateur / homemade

——————

since this doesn’t have a lot of context, i’m thinking of streamer toji who doesn’t necessarily do full nsfw streams regularly, mostly he does gaming streams with a sort of nsfw twist :3

——————

toji’s fans have clipped a highlight compilation of your first time on stream into a 25 minute video. it’s more wholesome than some might expect. toji’s in his recording room, which fills the camera frame with soft ambient lighting and the gentle whirr of an electric fan. the title of the stream “introducing my girl on stream” is enough to send chatters into a frenzy as they flood into the chatroom.

timestamps: 00:50 she comes into frame!

when you do finally enter the camera frame in your soft pyjamas toji chuckles as the chat explodes in messages which moves too fast to read. money donations ping in but toji isn’t interested in reading them today. instead, he helps you settle in his lap with one arm wrapped around the front of your waist.

you introduce yourself shyly, a little overwhelmed by the various windows opened on toji’s monitors.

timestamps: 01:30 toji shows her the streaming set up

“see, i told you she was real,” says toji as you give a small wave to the camera. toji spends a short while showing you his set up, teaching you how to read the chat and when donation pings came in. his left hand finds itself under your shirt, rubbing your tummy as his right hand guides yours using the mouse. to the viewers, it’s strangely intimate and brings in a throe of donations saying “you two are so cute together”, or “i wish i had this”.

timestamps: 4:46 THEY’RE KISSINGNEJJG

at some point throughout the stream toji’s unable to keep his hands off of you for any longer after subtly feeling you up from under the desk. instead you’re now straddling his lap with your chest pressed up against his solid torso as he eagerly makes out with you. he’s turned his chair to the side, so while the viewers can’t see how he kisses you, they can see how his hands help rock your hips against his thigh.

timestamps: 6:37 THINGS ARE GETTING STEAMY

at this point there’s no stopping either of you. donations are pinging in are ignored as toji rolls your hips on his thigh, one hand lazily supporting your waist. soft moans begin to slip out as you grip the armrests for support.

“oh baby are you getting needy?” he says when you mewl his name in desperation. “come on gimme another kiss,” he says as he pulls you in. you whine as he gives you a slap on the ass over your pyjama shorts.

“let’s get you sorted then hm?”

timestamps: 12:55 HOLY SHIT THIS IS SO HOT i could barely focus while editing.

toji helps you out of your pyjama shorts and panties, tossing them to the ground and to your delight he finally pulls out his throbbing cock for you to sit on. it doesn’t take long for toji to be bouncing you up and down in his lap like a dollie as you squeal with pleasure.

“god baby you’re making a mess,” says toji as you hold onto his broad shoulders. “i guess it’s my fault for working you up under the table,” he says as you babble out something about him not being able to keep his hands to himself.

“you know i can’t help it baby,” he replies as he thrusts up once into you. “i just want everyone to know you’re mine.”

“you’re doing so good for your first time on stream baby,” he continues as your voice starts to waver - a telltale sign for him that you were getting close. he could feel you getting close too, your drooly pussy quivering.

toji’s barely keeping an eye on the stream, but he can still hear donations rolling in.

“hear that? they think you’re doing a good job too.”

he catches you in a brief kiss. your brain fizzes with pleasure.

“show them how good you can be, yeah? i know you’re close.”

timestamps: 19:04 shes so cute when she cums + toji fucks her through it

when you finish over toji, your back arches and your hips try to buck away from toji as you squeal his name. your hands push at his biceps.

“fuck baby, don’t run,” he huffs out, tightening his hold on your hips as he continues to bounce you up and down. his favourite part is fucking you through it, and your overstimulated reactions make him cum every time without fail.

“t-toojiii!” you whine as he lifts you up and down on his length like one of the toys he sometimes uses on stream. god toji loves hearing your voice when he does this. he wonders if you know that he holds himself at the edge just to see you twitch and mewl.

your nails have marked his biceps in short pink streaks by the time he finally finishes deep in your throbbing pussy. he lets out a husky groan as you squeeze around him and strokes your hair when you lean forward into his chest.

timestamps: 23:01 stream ending

toji tilts your head up into a gentle kiss again as he squeezes your ass in one hand. “that feel good baby? you made such a mess,” he murmurs. you nod lazily, rolling your hips once to surprise him.

“brat,” he mutters, pinching your ass.

“thanks for watching guys, sorry i couldn’t read out that many donations today,” says toji as he runs a hand along your back.

“i hope you guys enjoyed, we’re gonna go clean up now,” continued toji. “wave goodbye to chat baby.”

you try to sit up and give a weak wave and catch the chat messages in the corner of your eye.

nekomii: no round 2???

honoured_1: fuck that was so hot

jell-o_cat: you should stream with her more often !!!

“alright see you tomorrow night, bye.”

———————

woo i hope you guys enjoyed this!! it was super fun to write because i love streamer/cam tropes

halfway through i wondered if i should make reader the streamer instead but i told myself to commit haha

at the same time i kept thinking about how there would probably be some crazy parasocial responses in chat if this was irl, but luckily it’s only fiction teehee

[idkyetxoxo]

Five | Breathing Room | Little Star

Pairing - Azriel x reader

Word count - 2.9k

Warnings - Mentions of injuries

<- prev || series masterlist || next ->

I surfaced from the dark like someone breaking through thick ice—pain blooming faintly beneath my skin, dull but ever-present, like a wound that had forgotten how to close. 

My lashes fluttered open, heavy and dry, and I took in the quiet hush of the room around me, shadows resting in the corners like sleeping cats.

A warm hand was wrapped around mine. Even before I turned my head, I knew who it was.

"Rhys," I whispered, my voice raw with disuse.

He jolted upright in the chair beside my bed, blinking as if he'd been pulled from a dream, or perhaps a nightmare. 

"You're awake," he breathed, voice tight with relief and something else, something unspoken.

I nodded, the motion igniting a sharp flare of pain that rippled down my spine. I winced but didn't let it show.

"How long was I out?" I asked. The curtains were drawn tight, blocking any hint of time, morning, evening, night, it could've been any hour in any world, and I wouldn't have known.

"Two days," he said simply.

My mouth dropped open. "Two days?"

"Madja did what she could to heal you, but I... I insisted she give you a sleeping draught," he admitted, a flicker of guilt crossing his face.

"Rhys, you can't just—"

"I am your High Lord," he cut in sharply.

I raised a brow at him, ignoring the biting ache it sent across my skull. "And I am the sister of the arrogant High Lord who needed me to get him out of trouble more times than I can count when we were children."

A twitch of a smile ghosted across his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"You can't expect me not to be careful," he said, voice softening. "Not when Madja told me that the reason your body couldn't handle the damage is because... because you haven't let yourself heal. Not for years."

The words hung in the air like frost on glass. Fragile. Cold.

I didn't respond. Neither of us did.

Silence blanketed the room again, thick and humming with the weight of everything unsaid. It wrapped around us like the shadows lingering in the corners, waiting. Watching.

"Don't tell me you've been sitting here the entire time," I murmured after a while.

He didn't answer.

"Rhys," I said, sharper this time. When he still didn't meet my eyes, I knew. I just knew.

"You have a mate," I reminded him, my voice as firm as I could make it. "Go be with her. You don't need to play the overprotective brother right now. I'm fine."

"You're not—"

"I am," I snapped, more harshly than I intended. But my chest ached in a way no healer could fix, and I didn't want his pity. "Go. Be with Feyre. She needs you, and frankly, I want to go back to sleep. You're starting to irritate me."

He hesitated, torn, like his very bones resisted leaving. But he stood, slowly, and leaned over to press a kiss to my temple. His breath was warm against my skin, and the tenderness of it made something inside me crack.

Then he vanished in a shimmer of power, the room folding in on itself in his absence.

But I was not alone. Not really.

The moment Rhys was gone, the shadows came forward, silent and familiar. Azriel's shadows. They slipped through the cracks in the stone like smoke, curling around the bedposts, licking softly at the walls. 

I didn't need to see him to know he knew I was alone again.

The House seemed to know what I needed before I could ask. A warm bath waited, steam curling lazily from the open door of the bathing chamber. 

The shadows followed me, curling around my ankles as I moved, slow and stiff.

I peeled the bandages from my body, hating the way the scars mocked me in the mirror. I stepped into the water, the warmth swallowing me whole, and sank in until only my chin remained above the surface.

The shadows didn't leave. They never did.

They stayed—gentle, curious, as I let my head fall back, as the pain I had buried so deep clawed its way back up my throat. 

Silent tears slipped down my cheeks, warm as the bathwater that cradled me. The shadows traced patterns on my skin, whisper-soft, like they could feel what I couldn't say aloud.

I closed my eyes and let myself feel it all.

The exhaustion. The ache. The guilt. Because Rhys was right. I had done this to myself.

I dressed slowly, each motion deliberate, careful, as though my limbs remembered pain even if my mind tried not to. 

The House, kind as ever, didn't rush me. It laid out soft, worn clothes scented faintly of lavender and cedar, and as I slipped into them, it hummed quietly in the walls. 

I wasn't sure if it was content or concerned.

The corridor outside my room was bathed in soft, golden light, the quiet kind that only came with late morning. I barely took two steps before colliding face-first into a solid, immovable wall of muscle. 

I stumbled backwards, but strong, familiar hands steadied me before I could fall.

"You're leaving your room?" Azriel asked, not unkindly—just... concerned. Shadows coiled lazily around his shoulders, as if echoing the tension in his voice. With a quiet flick of his wrist, he reined them in.

I arched a brow. "Am I not supposed to?"

He hesitated. "Rhys said—"

"What Rhys doesn't know won't hurt him," I interrupted, breezing past him with a pat to his chest.

He sighed, falling into step behind me, but said nothing. The moment we rounded the corner and entered the kitchen, I stopped short.

"Mother above."

Cassian stood shirtless, elbow-deep in a massive sack of sugar, flour dusted through his hair like snow. There were streaks of what might've been butter across his cheek and batter smeared on the edge of his jaw. 

He looked like a war god who'd lost a battle to baking supplies.

Azriel made a choking noise behind me.

Cassian whirled around, eyes wide with outrage. "Az, your shadows are useless! How am I supposed to surprise someone with a pie if that someone walks in?"

A few of the shadows, clearly offended, whipped forward and delivered a soft, but precise slap to his bare chest before flitting away, some curling around me in soft, cool tendrils, others rejoining Azriel like reprimanded cats.

"They like me better than him," I said with a grin, letting one of them swirl lazily around my finger. It hummed, almost purring in delight.

Cassian glared. "Well, you might as well come help me then."

I stepped into the kitchen, already rolling up my sleeves. I paused mid-roll, eyes narrowing. "Why are you shirtless?"

Cassian glanced down as if just now remembering. "Well, the apron got dirty, so I took it off. Then my shirt got dirty. So I took that off too."

I blinked at him. "Cass, that's literally what an apron is for."

To his credit, he had the grace to look sheepish. "Well... yes."

Azriel leaned against the far counter, his arms crossed, lips twitching. He was barely containing himself, and Cassian shot him a scowl.

I shook my head with a sigh, glancing around for something to wear. 

"Alright then, what do I wear to help with this chaos?" I asked, tugging my sleeves higher—until the edge of a large, still-fading bruise peeked into view.

The room shifted almost instantly. The air quieted. 

I caught Cassian's expression soften, and Azriel's eyes darken just a shade. My fingers stilled for a second, then quietly I rolled the fabric back down.

Silence continued. But then—Cassian.

"You could always go shirtless like me," he offered with a grin, tugging playfully at the hem of my shirt.

I laughed, the sound quiet but genuine. It felt like something inside me had cracked open.

Cassian. Always successful in finding a way to defuse the tension, to keep the heavy things from settling too long.

"What kind of pie are we making, exactly?" I asked, slipping into the rhythm of the kitchen with surprising ease.

"Blueberry," he declared proudly, gesturing toward a bowl piled high with dark fruit.

I peered at it. "Cass... those are blackberries."

He paused. Looked again. "...Oh."

That was it—Azriel cracked. He laughed, really laughed. The kind of sound that you didn't hear often, but when you did, it was like sunlight cracking through storm clouds. 

He tilted his head back, one hand on the counter for balance, as the sound echoed through the kitchen.

Cassian glared at him.

Azriel simply shook his head, still laughing as he pushed away from the counter. He started to leave, but not before glancing back at me, his smile warm and familiar.

Later that night, the rain came.

It began as a whisper against the windows, soft, tentative, like it wasn't sure if it was welcome. Then it grew bolder, steady, insistent, a rhythm that matched the pulsing ache still lingering behind my ribs. 

I curled tighter beneath the blanket that the House had draped over me, the edges tucked close like an embrace, the fire crackling low in the fireplace.

The room was dim, cast in amber light and shadows, and for a moment, I let myself exist in that quiet. In that stillness. 

Until the door opened, not harshly and not suddenly but with purpose.

A cascade of golden curls burst through the doorway like sunlight cutting through a storm. 

Mor didn't hesitate. She crossed the room in seconds and dropped to her knees beside me, enveloping me in a hug so fierce I couldn't breathe but I didn't need to. Her scent, jasmine and citrus and something inherently her wrapped around me just as tightly as her arms did.

"Hello, Mor," I whispered into her shoulder, my voice muffled and worn.

She didn't answer immediately, just held me a beat longer, then pulled back and cupped my face gently between her hands, her eyes scanning mine like she needed to see with her own eyes that I was still here. Still me.

"Rhys told me," she said quietly, urgency softening into sorrow. "He told me everything. I came as soon as I could."

She brushed a strand of hair from my forehead and slid beneath the blanket without waiting for permission, as if she belonged there—because she did. 

Because Mor had always known when words were too sharp, when silence said more, and when all someone needed was warmth and presence.

"I know," I murmured, leaning my head against hers as she rested it on my shoulder.

For a while, we didn't speak.

There was no pressure to. The only sound was the steady tap of rain against the glass and the occasional crackle of wood settling in the fire. Her fingers traced idle patterns on the blanket, mine curled loosely in my lap.

Eventually, her voice broke through the hush.

She told me about her day. Some ridiculous thing Cassian had said, the colour of the dress she'd nearly bought but didn't, the way the shopkeeper's dog had followed her out into the street. 

Her words flowed like a stream, light, casual, healing in their simplicity.

She didn't bring him up. Not once.

Instead, she offered me pieces of her day, as if building a little world around me where the sharp edges couldn't reach.

The fire burned lower, the shadows lengthening, when the door opened again with a soft creak.

Azriel stepped inside, quiet as a breeze, his presence immediately shifting the atmosphere in the way only he could. He didn't say anything, just walked over and knelt beside me, offering a steaming mug with both hands.

"Madja said you should drink this," he said, his voice low, roughened with sleep or worry or both.

The mug was warm against my fingers. I looked up at him, and for a moment, our eyes met. His shadows curled gently around his shoulders, as if watching me too.

"Thank you," I whispered.

He nodded once, then glanced at Mor and stood, giving me a fleeting look of softness, one that told me everything he didn't say. 

Then he left, just as quietly as he'd come, the door clicking shut behind him like a secret.

I drank the tea in slow sips, the warmth of it unfurling something tightly coiled inside me. Mor didn't speak anymore. She just stayed there, shoulder to shoulder with me.

When the mug was empty, I set it down with trembling fingers and sank deeper into the cushions, the exhaustion in my bones finally winning out.

Mor moved then, gently pulling the blanket higher, tucking it around me with a care so soft it made my throat ache. She stood, brushing a hand once through my hair, and turned toward the door.

She didn't leave with the whirlwind she came in on. No, this time, she slipped out like starlight fading at dawn.

And I let the rain sing me to sleep.

Much later that night, long after the fire had died down to embers and the rain had softened to a gentle lullaby against the windows, a different kind of darkness entered the room.

It was quiet, slipping in without fanfare, without intent to disturb.

Rhys was there, seated in the same worn chair near the bed, elbows on his knees, chin cradled in his hands. He watched me sleep, not like a High Lord watching over his subject, but like a brother clinging to the sight of someone he almost lost.

A flicker of movement, just the shuffle of the blanket as I turned restlessly was all that broke the stillness for a time. That, and the slow, unsteady rhythm of my breathing.

The door creaked open. It was nearly soundless, but Rhys looked up anyway. He always did.

Shadows slipped in first, silent scouts of a master who followed seconds later, tall and cloaked in midnight.

Azriel.

He froze when he saw Rhys, like a stag caught beneath a hunter's arrow, startled and unguarded. 

His shadows had lied—no, not lied. They had simply missed the presence of the High Lord, wrapped as he was in grief and silence. 

Even the most loyal of spies could be deceived by heartache that didn't move or speak.

Azriel hadn't come to speak, hadn't come to confess or plan. He came to check, to make sure I was still breathing, still safe, still here.

That was all.

Rhys leaned back in the chair, not startled, not surprised. He just looked tired, tired in a way that power couldn't fix, that centuries of wisdom couldn't soothe.

"She's stubborn," Rhys said, voice soft as moonlight, laced with fondness and sorrow. "Not that I'm shocked. She is my sister, after all."

Azriel stepped farther into the room, his steps silent like always. "She was raised alongside three males who would raze the world for her," he said quietly. "And a mother who loved her more than the stars."

The silence that followed was heavy. It wasn't awkward. It was grief. Shared. Carried. Etched into the bones of both males like a scar that would never fade.

Azriel spoke again, his voice lower, the words hard-earned.

"We tried," he said, and already it cracked at the edges. "We all tried, Rhys. After you left... she unravelled. She smiled at first, for the others. Said she was fine. But then... she drank. She cried. Raged at nothing, at everything. Locked herself in her room for days. And then... she met him."

He paused, his shadows curling tight around his boots like living sorrow.

"She fought him at first. I know she did. She fought the charm, the lies, the abuse. Because she's—her. But then something in her just... stopped." His voice caught, and he glanced at me, at the slow rise and fall of my chest beneath the blankets. 

Relief flickered there in his eyes, but it warred with something else. Regret. Fury. Guilt.

"She blamed herself for everything," he continued. "For your absence. For Daeron's cruelty. She wouldn't hear otherwise. We told her over and over that she wasn't the one to blame—but you know how she is. Once she believes she deserves the pain... there's no pulling her back."

Rhys's eyes closed. His breath was steady, but his fingers clenched into his knees.

"She's always carried more than she ever should have," he said after a moment. "She did it when our mother died. Took the blame like it was hers to bear. And after... after what Tamlin did—there were pieces of her I never knew how to put back together."

Azriel's shadows twitched, agitated, as if remembering, as if tasting that memory on the air.

"She never told me everything," Rhys said softly. "About what happened when she visited that last time. But I saw her after. The way she wouldn't let me hold her, even when she was sobbing into the floor."

Azriel's fists curled at his sides, his wings shifting behind him like restless thunderclouds.

Both males let the silence return for a while. Not cold now just quiet. Shared.

"Daeron?" Rhys asked at last, though his voice was already laced with dread.

Azriel didn't flinch. He just clenched his jaw. "At the Court of Nightmares. Where he'll stay. I'll keep him there until she tells me what she wants me to do."

A pause. "And I'll do it."

Rhys nodded turning back to watch me, his fist curling and uncurling on his lap.

"Go to Feyre," Azriel added softly, gaze never leaving the bed. "She needs you. I'll stay."

A heartbeat of hesitation, and then Rhys leaned down, pressed a kiss to my temple, and vanishing into the night.

The moment the soft echo of his magic faded, Azriel moved. 

He claimed the empty chair like it had been waiting for him all along, wings folding neatly behind him, shadows wrapping around his ankles like loyal hounds lying at their master's feet.

He didn't touch me. Didn't speak. He just watched. Watched as I slept, still, at peace for once.

Azriel finally let himself breathe. His brother was safe. His family was healing. 

And the female he loved beyond reason was here, alive, asleep, still whole, even if she didn't believe it.

A/n - So, we've got some normalcy��yay! I really wanted to write a struggling Cassian baking, because honestly, I feel like that's canon... at least to me :)

We've got Azriel being a mother hen, caring as always, but the real heart of this chapter is the ending, where he and Rhys finally sit down and talk about everything. Some parts are still a bit elusive, but don't worry, it's all for good reasons!!

The next chapter is cute and fluffy (for a bit), but it definitely goes downhill after that, so consider this your pre-warning x

I also have finished writing and editing this whole story completely so i might post updates every 3 days, idk if that’s something you’d prefer?

As always, I hope you enjoyed it! <3

(i’m also insane so over the last week i have written a whole other Azriel story 👀 daughter of autumn, accidental pregnancy but it’s still in early editing stages, just thought i’d let yous know 😝)

Little Star tag list - @jaybbygrl @writtenbypavani @fall-winter-heart97 @coeurdeveea @lilg101010 @krazykangaroo712 @moonlitlavenders @lil-lupa @jasmineee05 @pinksnowtiger @yourdarkrose @nerdybee123 @bookwormysblog @thoughtfulcoffeeflower @suspicious-stain-in-spain @anainkandpaper @theflowerswillbloom @queenoffeysand @historygeekqueen @lexi-in-wonderland @tele86 @saamanthaag3 @whydohumansss @xlosttdreamss @bookishwondersworld @plants-w0rld

[secretlysamcro]

Part 1 | Part 2

Female reader x Jax Teller SPOILERS, explicit language, talk of DV, & lil bit of angst/emotions & of course, smut. If you're under the age of 18, dislike any of said topics or have not finished the show, then please read no further. Please remember, anything written between the barbed wire is a memory!

"What happened after I left?" Opie's voice cracks through the quiet. He’s leant up against the railings in the lot, arms crossed with a heavy gaze set on his best friend.

Jax doesn’t look at him right away. Just breathes out slow, cigarette burning down between his fingers. "I told her"

Opie straightens up "Told her what?"

Jax's jaw moves. His eyes are somewhere off in the distance, like he's back in that moment. "Everything" he pauses, dragging again from his smoke. "Why I stayed with Wendy. Why I pushed her away. Apologised for a lot of shit I didn't handle right. Told her all that"

Opie raises his brows, surprise flickering across his face "All these years later, you finally let it out, huh?"

Jax chuckles, but its dry. "Yeah. And she told me some shit too...shit I never even knew…" He shifts his weight, glancing over at Opie, his eyes narrowing just a touch, like he already knows the answer but needs to hear it anyway. "…but you knew, didn't you?"

Opie meets his look but doesn't flinch "Yeah…I knew"

Jax doesn't bite, doesn't get pissed, just shakes his head with a tired smile "You coulda told me brother. Coulda saved a lotta pain"

"Could've..." Opie agrees "But it wasn't mine to tell. I was holdin' both your secrets. Couldn't betray either one of you. Figured when the time was right...shit would figure itself out"

Jax nods slowly, like he respects it, even if it does sting. "Kissed her too" the confession comes out fast, grabbing Opie's attention, his head whipping round to Jax.

"Fuckin' hell Jax" a short laugh comes out "How'd that go down?"

Jax breathes out hard through his nose "She kissed me back...then we spoke about us, about all that time in between" he wipes at his nose with the back of his hand "told me about some pink diary you found when we were kids"

Opie barks out a laugh at the memory. "Shit... I forgot about that. Had your name written across every page. Hearts n’ sparkles and all that shit. Confessin' her love on every damn page"

Jax grins, breaking into a laugh. "Said she threatened to beat your ass if you ever told me"

Opie nods, somewhat embarrassed for his 13 year old self "She wasn't bluffin either. Had me pinned to the wall and shit" They both laugh but its short lived, the silence heavier.

"After that, I just...tucked her in, kissed her forehead and let her sleep. She's been through hell Ope, she's not there yet. Not fully"

Opie looks at him, understanding in his expression "She will be" he uncrosses his arms, stepping away from the railing "Anything been said since?" Jax shakes his head, as clueless as Ope is, "Nah...nothing. I dont wanna push her, and I guess she feels the same...its still...fresh, ya know?"

Jax pulls up outside his house, noticing Gemma's car parked out front. He laughs to himself, she'd been here more than ever now that you were back in town, staying with him. She loved you. Always has, always will. In some ways, she looks at you as the daughter she never had, especially back in the day when you were constantly around.

He walks through the kitchen door seeing Abel sat at the table next to you, excitedly showing off one of his new toys. Gemma, leaning against the counter, coffee cup in hand. He begins making his rounds, a kiss to his moms cheek, then one to Abel's head. He hesitates the slightest when he reaches you, but still he places one to your head too.

Since that first kiss and the unload of confessions, neither of you had really talked about it. It's been a week since that night. Since you, Jax, Opie and Happy collectively put an end to the chaos that had once haunted your life. Jax had insisted you stay with him while you figure out your next steps, and you hadn't argued with that. How could you? Jax has always made you feel safe.

"What is this, show and tell?" Jax teases, ruffling Abel's hair.

"y/n wanted...wanted to see" Abel chimes in, his face lighting up. Gemma chuckles over the rim of her coffee mug.

"I did indeed" you respond, smiling warmly at Abel, your eyes crinkling with genuine joy.

Since that night at St. Thomas, dragging Wendy's OD'ing ass through the sliding doors alongside Jax, this was the first real time you'd met Abel. And even though it's only been a week, the kid had already latched onto you like he'd known you his whole life. You sat at the table, letting him chatter on, showing you some beat up toy truck like it was the coolest thing in the world. You laughed, genuine and easy, letting him climb halfway into your lap to tell you all about it. Across the room, Jax leans against the counter, arms folded across his kutte. Gemma stands next to him, mug in hand, both of them watching, silent. The same thought probably running through both their minds. Jax broke the quite first with that dry voice. "You hear from my crazy ex wife at all?" Gemma takes a sip of her coffee, shaking her head. "Not directly, no. Word is she's still tucked away in that rehab joint. Might actually be takin' it serious this time" Jax scoffs, low and bitter. "Good for her, but she ain't comin' near Abel. I don't give a fuck how sober she gets" Gemma doesn't argue, just gives a little hum in agreement, setting her mug in the sink before crossing the room to Abel "Come on, sweetheart. Lets go see Uncle Unser" "Uncle Unser?" Jax mimics, laughing at the nickname. Abel hesitates, looking up at you with big eyes "But...but I wanna stay with y/n" Gemma crouches down beside him, smoothing a hand over his messy hair. "She'll be here when you get back baby, come on" She shoots you a knowing look, before taking his hand and guiding him towards the door.

Jax ruffles his sons hair again on the way out "Later buddy...be good for Grandma...and uncle Unser" he laughs as the last words leave his mouth, Gemma punching him jokingly as she leaves.

Jax stays leaning for a second, his eyes on the door like he was still in that moment. Then he pushes off, walking over to you and dropping into the seat across from you. No words right away, just that look. The kind that says everything he didn't know how to say yet.

He leans back in the chair, his thumb rubbing absently against the wooden table. For a long second, he doesn't say shit. Just watches you with that familiar expression he wears so well.

Then finally, his voice sounding almost curious. "You holdin' up alright?"

You shift in your seat, picking at the frayed edge of your shirt. The memories crashing into you all at once. The motel, the screaming, the sharp crack of the lamp, the blood. You hadn't talked about the relief when Jax and Opie kicked in that door, or the quiet knowledge that Jax and Happy had finished what you started. And then, Jax's mouth on yours like it was the only way he knew how to keep you grounded.

You clear your throat, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. "I'm gettin' there"

He pauses, long enough for the words to settle. "I’ll never let anyone ever touch you like that again...you know that right?" The ferocity in his voice leaving no doubt in your mind that he meant every word. But the unspoken hangs heavier, because the part neither of you were mentioning still sat between you, glaring, waiting to be acknowledged.

Finally you break the silence, softer this time "And the other thing?"

Jax lifts his head, something unguarded flicking over his expression. He slips a hand over his face, like it might wipe away everything he's feeling. "You talkin' about the over due confessions...or the kiss?"

You nod, slow and steady, your chest tightening with each inhale. "Both" you say with a quite laugh, trying to ease the tension.

He makes a sound, a mixture between a groan and a sigh as he rubs at his stubble like he's trying to stall. "Look...it happened" His voice is low and gravelly. "But we aint gotta dig into it right now. I know your heads still all over the place. And this...whatever the fuck this is...I aint tryna complicate shit for you y/n" He shifts uncomfortably, frustration seeping through the cracks.

"Fuck...I dont know what im sayin" Jax was always different with you. Never reckless, never cold, for the most part. Just careful in a way most people never got to see.

You reach over, laying your hand over his, soothing him like you always have, even without meaning to "whatever this is Jax...I want it. I just...gotta get my head right first. Figure out where the fuck I'm standing"

He nods, no words leaving his mouth. Then, he places his other hand over yours, holding it like something solid within the chaos. His voice is rough when he finally speaks. "Figure your shit out darlin', but I ain't goin' anywhere, however this works out, I'm here"

You nod in quiet understanding, comforted by the lack of pressure. He's not asking you to say more than what you want to, not pushing you for answers or feelings that you're not ready to lay bare. It's just easy. Like it used to be.

Pushing away from the table, you gather the empty plates and cup left behind by Abel, walking them over to the sink. The water runs warm over your hands as you rinse, lost in the rhythm of it. You don't hear him move, but you feel him.

He leans against the counter beside you, arms braced back on either side like he's still holding the weight of the conversation. "There's somethin' else I wanna ask you"

You glance up at him, rolling your eyes with a smirk that doesn't quite reach the eyes. "Here we go..."

He grins, catching your look, bumping your hip lightly with his own. "Relax. It ain't anythin’ deep darlin" he laughs, crossing his hands over his kutte. "Moms had this fundraiser planned for months..." he's watching you, but not pressing too hard "...she wants you to come. Shit everyone does. But I get it if you're not up for that yet. Lotta faces. New, old..." He shrugs, looking down for a moment, like hes not sure how to word it without sounding needy. "...If you'd rather stay here, chill out...I won’t hold it against you"

You laugh a little under your breath, the sound laced with memories "I'll come" you say after a moment, drying your hands on your thighs "Haven't stepped foot in that clubhouse in years...plus I still need to meet Lyla, see if she's actually good for Ope" you say slightly teasing, but your smile fades. Just enough for Jax to notice.

"What?" Jax asks, his tone calm but suspicion evident.

You blink, caught off guard "What?"

"That look..." he says, tilting his head "what's goin' on in that head of yours?"

You hesitate, chewing your bottom lip for a second before the words finally slip out. "I just...Donna. The funeral. Me not coming" you exhale hard through your nose, eyes dropping to your feet "you think he hates me for that?"

He doesn’t answer right away.

“I should’ve been there” you continue, your voice smaller now. “I wanted to be. I just…He wouldn’t…”

The air between you both was still. Heavy.

His mind drifts back to Donna’s funeral. You weren’t there. But Tara was. She stood beside him that day, handing him his pride to place back over his shoulders. Her hand tucked into his like she belonged there. A picture you’re not yet privy to. A part of the story he has yet to tell you.

You’d witness Tara break Jax’s heart before. The time she left for Chicago, and on your last visit to Charming, she was back again, like nothing had happened. Dressed in scrubs, hair tied back working Wendy and Abel’s case. What you didn’t know though, is that night, when you left without a goodbye, Tara was the one who stayed.

It was her who helped Jax pick up the pieces in the weeks that followed. Her who sat through the night feeds, who whispered calm into the chaos while Abel fought to heal. She showed up when you didn’t…or couldn’t. Like some twisted mirror of the past. You stepping out, Tara stepping in. The roles had reversed again.

Jax shakes his head slowly, his jaw working as he chews over his words. “Back then, yeah…he probably didn’t understand it. We were all pissed and broken. Tryna keep our shit together and failing at it”

You look up at him, seeing how his face flickers between honesty and restraint.

“But now?…” he adds, his voice a little less harsh “Now he gets it. He knows why you never showed, even if it did hurt him at the time”

You nod, the guilt still weighing heavy in your chest. You didn’t no show to be a bitch. You didn’t go because your asshole of an ex had started the controlling behaviour, manipulating you in ways you couldn’t even see.

“It’s in the past, darlin”

You swallow hard, letting the silence stretch a little longer before asking what you’ve wanted to for years. “Still haven’t got a straight answer from either of you…” you murmur “…about Donna’s death”

That made him freeze, the inside of his cheek bulging where his tongue moves along it idly “drive-by gone wrong” he mutters “you already knew that y/n” he shifts his weights and you catch it.

“Yeah, that’s what I was told. Doesn’t mean it’s the truth” you raise an eyebrow.

Jax doesn’t say anything, just stares at you. A look you knew too well. One that he gave right before he started lying through his teeth or shutting down completely. He held your gaze, unflinching until he looks away first.

“You gonna help Mom with the fundraiser chilli?” He asks, his voice almost teasing “like old times?”

And there it was. The shift. That thing he always did. When the air got too heavy or the questions too close. He redirected. Changed lanes. Diverted you into nostalgia like it was the safest option. You saw it happening from a mile off, but you let him have it.

You smile, “yeah” the corners of your mouth lifting “I’d like that”

You stood beside your car, your hand twisting your keys between your fingers like you were trying to distract yourself. Everything was packed. Suitcases shoved in the trunk, bags loaded in the back seat. Every piece of your life that mattered crammed into your car. Everything else... you were leaving behind.

The clubhouse was your last stop. Final goodbyes. Closure, or some weak version of it. It was a Friday night, so you knew the place would be full, just enough noise and bodies to hide behind. You hadn't seen Jax or Opie since the night they found out you were leaving. The fallout was minor but it lingered in the air like smoke.

You stepped inside.

Pool balls clinked somewhere in the back, old rock hummed through the speakers. Just another night at the SAMCRO clubhouse.

"Come here sweetheart" Gemma's voice cut through the air like it always did. Soft but edged with iron. She wrapped her arms around you before you could even respond, holding you by your lower arms, looking you over like a mother trying to read the truth through your eyes.

"You certain about this?" She asked, voice low, like she already knew the real answer.

You forced a smile, swallowing down everything that wasn't a yes "I'm sure"

Her grip on your arms tightened. Her eyes not softening one bit. "You're gonna be missed round here. You know that right?"

"I know"

She leaned in a little closer. "You make sure that man treats you right. You hear me?" her tone dropped, and then she glanced over her shoulder, just once, towards the far back table.

"Cause if he doesn't...It wont just be me on his ass"

You follow her gaze. And there they were.

Tucked in the back corner, the table that once felt like home. Jax sat next to Wendy, Ope sat across from them, Donna curled into his side, their kids half asleep but still buzzing, refusing to shut their eyes while the grownups talked.

"Look who finally came to say goodbye" Opie muttered, nudging Jax with his elbow, his tone light, but not without a little edge. Jax didn't answer at first, but his eyes caught yours.

"She's really leavin'?" Donna asked, her eyes drifting towards you, brows drawn together.

Donna was never part of the trio back in the day, not until Opie grew up enough to realise she was everything he needed. You'd been wary of her at first. Not jealous of her, just unsure how she'd fit in. But over time? she did. Until things started changing. Until she got pregnant, and Opie stopped coming around as much. Until you started spending more time alone with Jax. Time that never quite felt innocent.

You gently pull yourself away from the conversation with Gemma, pressing a grateful kiss to her cheek, thanking her for everything she'd done for you over the years. She doesn't respond right away, just gives you that familiar look. The one she’s given you since you were a kid, showing more care in one glance than most people could manage with words.

Gemma's been more of a mother to you than your own ever was. Your real Mom barely noticed when you were around, let alone when you weren't. But Gemma? The time spent at her house, at the table with her and her boys... that was home. A real home. Somehow always finding room for you in the mess of her world.

You took a breath slightly deeper than usual, mentally preparing for the possibly storm ahead.

“Hey” your voice is quite, just about heard over the hum of music and conversation.

You step to the edge of the table, leaning closer to Opie and Donna's side of it. Donna immediately gets up and pulls you into a hug, arms tight around your shoulders. "God, y/n I'm really gonna miss you" she says, her voice wavering with emotion. "We all are"

You smile faintly, pulling back just enough to see her face. "Its not like I'm never gonna see you again" you laugh playfully.

"I know...but still..." She laughs, brushing your arm affectionately "It wont be the same without you around."

You give her a short smile, then glance past her and kneel slightly at the table so you're eye level with the kids.

"You two..." you say, smiling mischievously toward Kenny and Ellie "Be good for your Mom, okay?" They nod giggling as you turn your head toward Opie "But keep being lil' shits for your Dad alright, don't make it too easy for him" Both of them bursting into laughter, even Opie cracks a smile.

"Alright, come on you two" Donna says through her own laughter, ushering the kids away, leaving just you, Opie, Jax and Wendy.

Opie offers a small nod your way, tapping his knuckles once on the table. "Glad you came by"

You smile towards him, "Would've felt wrong if I didn't"

Jax is sitting back in his seat, relaxed but still unmoved. He hasn't said anything, hasn't even looked at you properly since you walked over. He's got a toothpick in his mouth, twirling it between his fingers like it’s the only thing keeping him sane. Wendy hasn't moved either. She stays leaned in a little too comfortable against Jax, her legs crossed towards him, on edge like she's waiting for something to start.

"So..." you cleared your throat, trying to keep your voice steady, though your hands were already trembling. "...I just came over to say my goodbyes"

No one says anything at first, Opie just stands, towering over you like he always had, a solid presence that always felt like home.

"Come here" he says, pulling you into a hug without waiting. One of those hugs that wrap around every crack in you, like somehow he was trying to pass on his strength and safety through touch.

"You ever need anything...anything at all you call me" he murmurs into your hair "We're here for you alright? you got us...always". You nod against his chest, try to thank him but your voice is gone. The tears already started slipping down your cheeks, hot and slow, soaking into the fabric of his shirt.

Still wrapped in Opies warmth, you hear movement behind you. The scuff of a chair, a murmur of voices. You turn your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of Jax rising from the table, Wendy beside him, her hand ghosting across his arm as she whispers something in his ear. Jax doesn't look your way, doesn't say anything. Just walks off with Wendy towards the dorm without so much as a glance back.

Your hearts drops, leaving a slow sinking feeling in your stomach. Heavy but numb. Opie pulls away slightly, eyes following yours towards the direction Jax had just left in.

You force out a laugh, but theres no humour in it, just ache. "Guess he doesn't wanna know me anymore"

Ope sighs, resting a hand on your shoulder "Nah. He's just...stuck. Caught up in his own shit. Doesn't mean he doesnt care"

You roll your eyes, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand. "You always do that"

"Do what?"

"Make excuses for him" you say, turning again to meet Opies eyes. "We've been through everything together, thought he'd atleast say bye, whether he's pissed at me still or not"

He looks at you with that quiet sadness in his eyes, like he wishes he could fix things for you, but he knows he cant. "He's not good at this part" he says finally "Never has been"

You shrug, trying to swallow the lump in your throat "Yeah, well...thought I meant more than that"

Opie gives your shoulder a squeeze, and places a goodbye kiss to your forehead "You do" But it doesn't feel like it. Not tonight.

You move away from Opie, wiping your face again before anyone else can catch the tears still clinging to your lashes. You make your way around the room, weaving through laughter, music and the haze of smoke that always fogged the clubhouse. Your next stop is Clay. He was never warm with you. Not like John was. But once Gemma’s house became his, he still let you in, fed you, let you crash whenever and back then, that counted for more than you’d like to admit.

“Take care of yourself” he mutters, giving you a raise of his beer.

Next, is Piney. Puffing on a cigar as his oxygen tank hissed faintly beside him. He was always harder to crack, but you knew he watched over you in his own quiet way. Just like he did with Opie. With anyone he considered family.

Then, Chibs and Tig. Posted up near the bar. Tig deep in some half drunk debate about why dogs are better than humans. You talk a little and listen to their drunken wise words of wisdom about the big world beyond Charming.

“Good luck out there lass. Not too much trouble, yeah?” Chibs pulls you into a side hug, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Tig grabbing your hand dramatically to his chest “Don’t miss me too much” he laughs before kissing your hand.

You look around the room for a moment, taking in the faces, the sounds, the weight of years in every corner. This place, this life…letting it all go hurts more than you thought it would. As a teen, you resented all of this. The Kuttes, the calls, the runs. When Jax and Opie prospected, it was like losing them. Like the club had taken them away and given them new priorities, different rules to live by. You’d been left on your own again. But then they got patched. Fully integrated within the club, not just hanging on to the edges anymore. They were the club. And you watched them rise, watched them stop taking orders and start carving their own path. But now? You were walking out of it. Out of the clubhouse. Out of Charming. And away from them.

You hadn’t intended to chase after him. You’d made peace with leaving it as it was. But when you saw Wendy leaving the dorm, that stupid fucking smirk on her face, something in you snapped.

Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was closure. Maybe it was the years between you that deserved something more than silence. You pushed open the dorm door without knocking. He looked up from where he was sat on the edge of the bed, hoodie half zipped, elbows resting on his knees like he’d been stuck in that exact position since Wendy left the room. His eyes met yours, startled slightly but not surprised.

“Ope said you're going through some shit right now, but that doesn't mean you should fucking ignore me Jax..."

Jax exhales, sitting up straighter “y/n…”

"You couldn't even talk to me at the table? not even a fucking goodbye?"

Jax stood slowly, not defensive yet...but close enough "I didn't know what to say"

"Bullshit" you seethe. "You've known me since we were six Jax. You've never shut up in all these years that I've known you... but tonight, the night I leave you suddenly go mute?"

"It's not like that"

"Then explain it!" you shouted, stepping towards him "Cause right now, it feels like you couldn't give a shit"

Jax stepped forward, the space between you shrinking. "Don't pull that shit y/n. You're the one leaving. You're the one walking out with that asshole no one can fucking stand!" he stops abruptly, he obviously had lots more to say.

You laugh bitterly "Go on, say what you really think"

"I think he's a controlling prick who doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as you" he snaps "and you're making a fucking mistake"

Your laugh is louder this time, more sharp "You've got a fucking nerve"

"What's that suppose to mean?" he says, his brows furrowed together in the middle of his face.

"Shes a fucking druggy!" you shout "Wendy doesn't give a shit about you. She loves the high more than she's ever loved a person, and you fucking know it!"

"People change" he says, so fucking casual.

"She wont" you hiss "You wanna be careful Jax, shes the kinda girl to trap you with a kid or something. Lock you in for life"

That did it. He didn't yell, didn't argue. He just stepped back, slowly like your words landed right in his chest. And that's when it hit you. Your stomach dropped, because his face gave it away before his words ever could.

"Wow" you laugh breathless, shaking your head as the weight of it sinks in "She’s…she’s already pregnant?"

He stands there, somewhat deflated. Eyes unable to meet yours "Wasn't planned" he says eventually.

"How long have you known?" you ask, your tone sharper now, like you already know you're not gonna like the answer.

"A few weeks..."

"A few weeks" you repeat, your heart rising into your throat "So all this time you've been pissy at me for not telling you about leaving...and you've been sitting on this?"

He starts pacing, clearly uncomfortable "I didn't know how to tell you, I..."

"Does Opie know?" you interupt, arms now folded tightly across your chest.

He sighs "Yeah"

You let out a bitter little laugh. "Course he does"

Theres a silence between you both, long enough to hear your own breathing until he finally speaks up, his voice softer now "This really what you want?" he asks "To leave Charming to be with...him?"

You look away for a second, the truth almost slipping off your tongue, nearly breaking free. But now you know Wendy's pregnant, what's the fucking point? You laugh softly, but there's no humour involved "I could ask you the same thing"

He rolls his eyes at your tone, his jaw clenching in frustration. You don't give him the chance to respond "Yes." you say, the lie rolling off your tongue "Its what I want" you lie again.

Jax nods slowly, trying to make sense of everything he's feeling, trying to hold it all down. "Okay" he says simply

"Okay" you echo back.

You take a step closer, your hand reaching out, fingers resting gently on his arm. "You'll be a good Dad, Jax" you say with a smile that hurts. He looks at you like he wants to say something, but instead he just pulls you into a hug that nearly folds you. He holds you like he's afraid to let go, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

"Take care of yourself darlin" he whispers, his voice still rough around the edges. That's his apology, his goodbye.

"Yeah..." you whisper back, your breath catching in your throat "You too”

The rooftop was quieter than you remembered. No piney shouting up from the lot below after catching you with one of his cigars again, no Clay pacing and yelling for Opie and Jax when they were supposed to be doing whatever stupid prospect duty they had been assigned. Even the wind felt softer up here, moving slow past your ears.

You made your way up here not long after Gemma had loaded Abel into her car, muttering something about giving the grown ups a chance to be reckless again. She winked at you before she left, like maybe she knew damn well you needed it. And maybe she was right. After the shit you’ve had going on, after everything with your ex, after everything you survived, you deserved a night of recklessness.

You’d spent most of the afternoon helping Gemma at the chilli stand, just like you did when you were sixteen and trying to prove you had what it took to be an old lady. Bossing the prospects around, elbowing Tig when he tried to steal just a little bit. Flicking napkins at Opie when he teased you every time he walked past. Lyla had been kind and sweet, you felt yourself warm to her faster than expected, especially once you saw how Opie looked at her.

You’d apologised to Opie for not being there at Donna’s funeral, finally said the words that had been weighing in your chest for a while. Told him the truth, how your ex wouldn’t let you come, how he used his control like a weapon and by the time you realised how far gone it all was, you felt like you didn’t have a choice. The apology was small, but honest. No drama, just raw, simple truth between two people who’d been through too much.

“You’re here now” he said, pulling you into a hug.

The first few hits of the joint sank deep into your chest, loosening whatever tension was left in your shoulders, mixing with the effects of the whisky you just downed not long ago. You lean your head back against the brick wall behind you, eyelids heavy, lips parted as you watch the smoke disappear into the sky.

And then you hear them, the footsteps of someone making their way up to the roof. You didn’t even have to look.

“Didn’t think you’d come up” you say low, already passing the joint to the empty space next to you.

His hairs a little messy, in that awkward growing it out stage, his eyes glassy from the drink. He doesn’t say anything, just took the joint from your fingers, sinking down into his usual spot.

For a while, neither of you spoke, until your voice cuts through the silence. “I cried you know”

Jax doesn’t say anything, but you feel the way his body stills. Waiting for you to continue.

“The night I left. From the clubhouse to his place. I cried the whole way…” you weren’t even sure why you were telling him now “…I couldn’t breathe. My hands were shaking on the wheel, felt like I was driving away from something I hadn’t figured out yet”

And still, he said nothing. Just let you speak, the way he always had when he knew it mattered.

“I kept thinking…why am I leaving? Why am I running towards someone I don’t fully trust?” You laugh under your breath “then I realised what I was running away from too”

He turns to look at you now, forgetting about the joint burning away.

“You told me Wendy was pregnant, and it was like something inside of me just…collapsed. I didn’t know why. I had no reason to be hurt. You and I weren’t…We never even…” you stopped yourself.

“I know” he nods once.

“It’s my fault” he says softly, like he didn’t mean to say it loud.

“What is?” You turn to him slowly

He drags a hand down his face “That you ended up with him. That whole mess. It’s on me” he looks at you deeply, his eyes flickering over you features “If I’d just been straight with you from the start…if I’d just said something that night, maybe you wouldn’t have gone runnin’ to someone else. Wouldn’t have gotten stuck with someone like him”

“Jax…”

“You left and I just let you go. I didn’t stop you. Sat there like a fuckin’ idiot and told you Wendy was pregnant while you were halfway out the door, like that wasn’t the worst possible moment”

“I left first…” you sigh “…I thought it would hurt less if I left first. Told myself it was time…needed a new start, something stable, someone outside of this life. I was scared of feeling too much Jax, being second to everything you already had going on. Tara, then Wendy…I was scared that if I stayed, I’d spend the rest of my life pretending you weren’t the only person I wanted to be with”

He was listening, deep in thought but still not speaking, still giving you your time.

“It didn’t hurt less” you laugh “Think it hurt worse. Every day I was with him, I kept thinking about how easy it used to be with you. How safe I felt. Even when shit was messy, club chaos or whatever, you were always there” your eyes are glistening now, not from the high, but the tears threatening to spill.

"Its not your fault Jax" you say quietly, your eyes strictly on him. "Don't carry that like it is. You aint the only one who stayed quiet. I didn't say anything either"

He looks at you but says nothing, but you can tell the words land where they need to.

"And about that night...at the hospital...I'm sorry"

He lifts his chin, taking in what you're saying. With everything that has happened since you've come back to Charming, you still haven't given him a reason why you left so suddenly.

"I shoulda waited. Shoulda said goodbye properly. But standing next to Gem and Clay, seeing you holding Abel like that...so small and so fucking...fragile I...my head was fucked Jax. I wanted to tear Wendy apart. I always knew she would...." you stop yourself, now still isnt the time. "...plus, he didn't even know I was in Charming, I needed to get home before he noticed or he..." You trail off, your voice portraying the unforgotten ache. "I fucked up, I know. I Shouldn't have left you alone with all that shit Jax"

He shakes his head, and lets out a deflated laugh. But its not amused, its more sad "I wasn't alone, y/n"

Your brows crease together, the expression asking the question for you.

"Tara" he says bluntly, eyes now fixed on the lot below, the memory of how easily she slotted back into his life after everything she had already done to him, clear in his mind. "After you left...she stuck around. She knew I was breaking, knew I'd take help from anywhere...anyone"

You process the words slowly, the pieces falling into place "You and her...?" you ask gently, trying to sound neutral, but there's a tiny thread of disappointment in your tone.

He nods "For a bit. I still loved her...or thought I did...I don't know" he pauses, his jaw stiffening "She had this ex from Chicago. Obsessive type. Scared she couldn't shake him and she knew if she came to me with it...I'd handle it" he doesn't look at you, but you don't need him to.

"Handle it" you say back to him, saying the words out loud making the meaning much more obvious.

He turns his head finally, eyes meeting yours. And in that look, you know. You know what he did.

"So i'm not the only woman you'd kill for?" You nudge him with your shoulder, easing the tension just a small amount, he cracks a stiff smile.

"I don't regret what we did for you" he says, his tone confident, unwavering. "Not for a fuckin' second. But her? She played me...knew how to get through the cracks, I just didn't see it till it already happened"

"She still around?"

He shrugs "In and out of St Thomas, haven't seen her for a while though...haven't wanted to"

You want to be mad for him, to rip both Tara and Wendy apart with words, and hands. But instead you just lean your head slightly against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry for everything" you whisper.

"I'm sorry you felt like you had to leave" he breathes the words back.

And that's it. Thats all that needed to be said. You both sit there, quiet now, staring out at Charming like you used to. It's not the same, nothing ever is. But for a few minutes, sitting head to shoulder again?

It feels close enough.

Hours pass, the fundraiser burning itself out into the kind of night samcro always end up with. One too many bottles passed around, someone half naked on the pool table, Tig getting head in the corner like its a performance. Chibs is blackout drunk laughing at his own joke as Juice sings along to a song no one even remembers putting on. There’s smoke in the air, sweat on the walls and the sound of someone throwing up behind the garage.

Somewhere between that last rooftop silence and now, you and Jax both had more whiskey in your system, more heat in your blood, your laughter louder and limbs heavier. The kind of drunk that made you feel warm and reckless, like you could say anything, do anything. You both peel away from the noise and drift towards the dorm, just like old times. Except when that door closes behind you?

Everything was different. It started off with that look.

That slow, heavy Jax Teller look. The one that always came with a slight tilt of the chin, that 'I've already fucked you a thousand times in my head' look. Eyes low, and his voice rough but smooth at the same fucking time.

"You know..." his eyes dragging down your body, lingering where your dress hugged tightly at your hips "I used to jerk off thinkin' about you in shit like this" No smile, no shame just quiet truth. The whiskey clearly catching up to him, making the truth easier to confess.

That hit hard. Not because you've never wondered if he thought of you like that, but because he finally fucking said it. You swallow hard, heat prickling across your chest, and for a second you almost let the silence hang.

But then, you stumble forward, letting it slip. "I used to think about you when he fucked me"

His mouth parts, but he says nothing.

"Every single time" you continue, eyes darting over his expression "I'd close my eyes...pretend it was your hands, your voice..."

His nostrils flare, and you catch the way his jaw ticks at your confession "You sayin' that to piss me off?" the crease in the middle of his brow returns, as he takes another step towards you, real fucking close now.

"No. I'm saying it cause its true"

And that was all it took. It wasn't rushed, but it wasn't slow either. It was drunk, desperate and years overdue.

The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you don’t hesitate. You let him press you down, let him crash over you like a wave that had been building since you were fifteen. His mouth found yours fast, sloppy, rough and hot with the taste of whiskey and want. His hands were everywhere. Under your dress, up your thighs, while your fingers yanked against his belt like it was the only thing between you and everything you both needed. You were a mess already, breathless, laughing into his mouth as his teeth caught your bottom lip and he groaned against you, a sound you were new to but already couldn't get enough of. You didn't know where to start, and neither did he.

You panted, still grinning as you work to undo his belt buckle, you were laughing, frustrated and breathless fighting with the damn thing.

Jax smirks, barely lifting his head from where he was sucking at your neck "need help?"

"No...I got it" you tug harder, making a strained noise, grunting completely giving up.

Jax chuckles leaning away from you "you're pullin' the wrong way"

"I know how a fucking belt works" you snap, laughing as he sits up just enough to do it himself

"There..." he says, finally popping it open with a flick of his wrist "...Jesus christ"

You've seen him naked before. Back in the day, drunk nights, long summers, dumb dares. It wasn't every day but it wasn't rare. Jax never gave a fuck. You'd walk in on him pissing behind the clubhouse, stripping off in the lot after a job, passed out bare assed on Opes bedroom floor more times than you could count.

But this? this wasn't the same.

Because now you were laid back on the dorm bed, dress hiked up around your hips, the fabric of your panties glistening with desire, your thighs open wide, Jax Teller nestled between them, shirtless, breath heavy and his belt finally unfucking done.

You feel the head of his cock slide through your folds, slow and teasing. Catching against your clit before slipping lower. He was soaked in you, you were already shaking and then, he pushes in.

Slow.

Just the tip at first, but it was already enough to knock the air from your lungs. Your whole body tenses, your back arching away from the bed as a gasp breaks free from your throat as the stretch hits you hard. Deep, full and perfect. He was thick, so fucking thick and he didn't stop. He kept going, inch by aching inch, burying himself inside you like he belonged there.

"F...fu..fuck" You choke out, head falling back against the flat as fuck pillows.

Jax groans, deep in his chest, One hand sinking into your hip, tight enough to leave marks, and the other placed on the matress just beside your ribs.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ y/n" he grits out, voice already wrecked "You always been this fuckin' tight?"

You let out another moan, fingernails scraping over his reaper.

The weight of him pressing down against you, feeling every inch of him, every breath, every shudder that rolled off his body and into yours. His dick buried deep, his hips grinding slow and heavy like he couldn't bring himself to stop, even if he wanted too. His hand found your neck, his thumb at your jaw, holding your head in place like he needed to keep you right there beneath him. Your hips roll, matching the drag of his cock like your body had memorised this rhythm in a dream. You tilt your hips just enough to catch him deeper, your waist moving in desperate waves meeting each thrust with one of your own. It was filthy and perfect, the way your bodies collided, the slaps of wet skin, the quiet, gasping moans pressing into each others mouths. You could feel him shaking above you, the way his muscles locked tight trying to keep from spilling too soon. Every time he sinks back in, you push up to meet him, grinding against him, slow and purposeful, letting him feel just how fucking badly you’ve wanted this.

Your thighs clamp tighter around his hips and your ankles lock just behind his lower back, keeping him close as he grunts into your neck, fucking you harder now, less rhythm but more need. You move with him, catch his vibe and fuck him right back. In the clubhouse, Opie was drunk too.

Not face down in the dirt drunk, just that slow heavy buzz that settled deep. Behind his eyes, in his chest, in the memories he hadn't thought about in years. The drunk that made you nostalgic, stupid and curious.

The lot was still loud, the party just about winding down but not done. Music still playing low, croweaters doing their job. But you and Jax? you'd dissapeared. He finished his beer and started wandering. He checks the rooftop first, your old hangout. Empty beer bottles, finished whiskey glasses and an ashtray with half smoked joints. Then the kitchen, the back office, even the damn garage for some reason. Still, nothing.

So now he was zig zagging his way towards the dorm, muttering under his breath, mostly to himself.

"Dumbasses probably passed out somewhere" he grumbles.

He didn't knock, cause why the hell would he?

The door creaks open on the old hinges, and there you both are. Right in front of him.

You. Naked, flat on your back with one leg now hooked over Jax's shoulder.

Jax. One of his hands wrapped around your throat, the other gripping your thigh as he rams straight into you like the rest of the world didn't exist. Your moans filling the room, loud, wet and desperate. Jax looking like a man fucking possessed.

He backs out slowly, carefully. Pulling the door shut with quiet movements of a man defusing a bomb. It clicked closed, and he stood there in the hallway, blinking like he'd just seen a ghost.

Then he laughs, low, rough and tired.

"Bout fuckin' time" he mutters to himself, before taking a seat back at the table, lighting a smoke and trying to burn the image of his childhood bestfriends fucking eachother.

💀 photos & gifs do not belong to me, just edited together (apart from the cute lil diary entry hehe) so credit to all original owners.

When I put out part 2 of this I was just shy of 300 followers, and today I fucking made 600 followers. Six hundred? Six hundred of you I don’t even know why or how. But I love you all, each and every single one of you. Thank you for all your likes, comments, reblogs, requests, questions & support honestly love u guys with ma whole heart.

I’ve been a lil slow I know, apologies writers block is a bitch! But I’m still here, writing (&struggling) behind the scenes lol. 🖤

JAX TELLER MASTERLIST

xoxo secretly samcro

[muddyorbsblr]

the kind that makes you proud

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: a few years after 'how you light up'

Summary: It finally happened. You called Tom the "D" word.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warning/s: language (but in a funny way)…and then nothing after that, this is mostly fluff [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: new and final era unlocked; cute married blorbos hours

In a beautiful, lavish estate built in the heart of a forest just outside the city proper of London, a little girl ran around the vast living room of her home, chasing around a brown Spaniel dog, going as fast as her little legs could take her. 

Eloise, "Lulu" to her family, was still struggling to form words "properly", seeing as her mom and dad said things very differently. And as such, now as she tried to form the word "here", her mouth landed somewhere in the middle of her parents' voices and said another word entirely.

"Heeya! Heeya!" she said, walking after the dog. She didn't see her father watching the exchange with an amused smile on his face, seeing the perfect mix of him and his wife in the little girl. 

Barely over a year old and already wobbling around the house with a determination in her eyes that eerily replicated her mother's. 

The brown Spaniel walked away from her again after hearing her "Heeya" draw closer, and Lulu let out a huff, a pout on her adorable little face that quickly faded when she looked up and saw her father on the steps. "Dada!" she said excitedly, throwing her hands up in the air in his direction. 

He was just about to make his way down the rest of the stairs and lift her into his arms when their dog walked past her again and she was back to chasing after him. Her tiny hand just barely brushed at his tail, and once again the little girl formed words. Only this time in a voice that she'd clearly pulled from her mother. 

Words that left her father stunned silent on the stairs.

"Aww fucking dammit".

"This doesn't look right…" you muttered, looking through the various reference photos you'd pulled so that you could sketch out the suits that your husband would be wearing in his next project. Maybe you'd been staring at the pictures for too long, maybe you needed to rest your eyes for a second. Or maybe there was really something just unspeakably lameabout the type of character you had to craft for this series.

The task itself even sounded impossible on paper. To make a character played by Tom look "frumpy". The man was incapable of it, and you were sure that even your best attempts would fall flat. 

"Fucking dammit." You rolled your putty eraser furiously across the paper, the fine lines of the collar design now disappearing from the paper. "How in the flying fuck am I supposed to--" 

"You sound like you need a break, sweetheart." 

Your shoulders relaxed at the sound of Tom's voice at the door to your work studio, a smile stretching across your face as your gaze met his. Leaning against the frame of the open door with such a relaxed stance, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

"Break…distraction…" you trailed off, setting your sketchpad down and stretching your arms. He took that as a cue to cross the distance between you in three long strides, taking hold of your outstretched hands and pulling you into a warm embrace. You let out a contented sigh as his arms snaked around your back and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

"A nap," he told you, picking you up effortlessly by the backs of your thighs and carrying you out and away from your workspace. "You  haven't been sleeping enough lately." 

"Sweetie, we both haven't been getting enough sleep," you shot back. "Ever since Lulu was born." Your bottom lip jutted in a pout as you looked closely at his unfairly perfect face, barely even a line out of place from under his eyes. "It's just that it shows less on some faces compared to others." 

"Speaking of our darling daughter…it looks like she's learned some new words." 

"Oh?" 

"From you, goddess." 

The sides of your mouth drooped downward in a grimace; you had a pretty good idea where this was going. "Which ones?" 

He sat you down on the chaise lounge near the stairs and gave you a signal to wait and listen. "She's playing with Bobby, you'll hear it soon enough." 

Your heart warmed at the sound of her excited laughter drifting into the area downstairs. But not even a few moments later your eyes bugged out so hard they nearly popped out your head when you found out exactly what words your daughter had learned from you.

"Aww dammit," her little voice filled the room. "Aww fucking dammit." 

You clapped your hands over your mouth to muffle the gasp and chortle that wanted to come out of you. "Good God I've made a tiny menace." You took a breath before you stood up and made your way downstairs, hand in hand with Tom, all thoughts of breaks and naps flying out the window.

Lulu stopped her waddling toward Bobby once her wide eyes saw you both at the end of the stairs, her face lighting up in a mostly toothless grin. "Mumma! Dada!" 

You still struggled on finding what the right approach would be towards your daughter's newfound vocabulary as she slowly made her way to you and Tom. He picked her up as soon as she got close enough, happily giggling and kicking her little feet as soon as she was airborne in her father's arms.

"Oh sweet baby girl," you cooed at her, smiling wide when she wrapped her tiny hand around your finger. "You're way too young to know any better, we can't correct that even if we wanted to." 

"And we do want to," he said, pressing a kiss to her hair. "Don't we?" 

"Of course we do. Just not today." You gave her little kisses to her hand, making her smile and giggle some more. "Maybe in another year, when we know she can start retaining information. Forcing it now involves trauma, and I can't do that to our daughter." 

He only gave you a quiet, solemn nod, telling you he understood and agreed completely. He held you close with his free arm and pressed a quick kiss to your lips, making Lulu break out into a fresh round of delighted giggles as she clapped her little hands together. When you turned to face her, she placed her hands on your cheeks, pressing her nose to yours, and then she did the same with her father. 

"One of these days though Daddy and I are gonna need to talk to you about saying those words in public." 

"Who knew all it took for you to call me that was--" 

You clapped your hand over your husband's arm to stop him mid-sentence. "Don't you f…" Your mouth made a wheezing sound as you tried to hold back the rest of the word, remembering that he was still carrying Lulu. He gave you a playful look as if to tell you 'Keep going, sweetheart. I dare you.'  All you could do instead was let the sound die down and scrunch your face at him. "Hmph." You pointed a finger at him, and he didn't hesitate to kiss the tip of it. 

"Hmph," Lulu mimicked you, a proud little smile on her face.

"I think it's safe to say that between the two of us, we know who our daughter is going to idolize," Tom mused. "Excellent taste. I think she gets that from her father." 

A/N: Eeeee I'm so excited to finally unlock the final era of this couple. Welcome to…the parents era! And pls give little Eloise "Lulu" Hiddleston a warm welcome; she's gonna be every bit the menace her parents are 🥹💖

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist @alexakeyloveloki @lulubelle814 @jaidenhawke @km-ffluv @huntedmusicgardenn @steaa90-blog

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hey!! I absolutely love your character analysis, especially on the golden trio.

I know this ask is rather well.. unusual cuz I don't think people normally send you full scenes to analyse. But I felt this one kinda reveals something about the trio as characters and I couldn't quite figure out what, so I wanted your opinion.

"He can have it,” Harry went on, “after we’ve used it on all of the Horcruxes. I’ll make sure he gets it then. I’ll keep my word.”

“But that could be years!” said Hermione.

“I know that, but he needn’t. I won’t be lying . . .really.”

Harry met her eyes with a mixture of defiance and shame. He remembered the words that had been engraved over the gateway to Nurmengard: For the Greater Good. He pushed the idea away. What choice did they have?

“I don’t like it,” said Hermione.

“Nor do I, much,” Harry admitted.

“Well, I think it’s genius,” said Ron, standing up again. “Let’s go and tell him.”

DH, Chapter 25

My best guess is that this shows to what extent the characters are comfortable with deception. But it doesn't quite add up because Harry is known to lie and manipulate without hesitation several times. Yet here, he is willing to do it because that's what the situation requires but he doesn't seem to like it one bit. What do you think this scene reveals about the three of them? I totally understand if you find this ask strange and I know you get a lot of asks, so please don't feel pressured to answer, feel free to skip this one if it's not to your liking. But if you could provide even a penny for your thoughts, I'd be glad to hear it. (or just let me know if I'm looking too deep into it cuz I tend to do that!)

I think you did a pretty good job of analyzing the scene yourself. The scene definitely showcases Ron and Hermiones' opinions about deciding a goblin who is an innocent. (Hermione is willing to lie and decive plenty, she's just a bit of a hypocrite).

What I would say about Harry is that what makes Harry uncomfortable isn't the deception itself, but what it says about him that he's willing to do it. This is after he learned about Dumbledore, when he's already in a crisis about the path he is one. Thinking he is doing moral questionable things (as Hermione brings up) for his goal is too similar to Dumbledore for him at that moment. That's why he brings up "for the greater good". The shame is for the association with Dumbledore's secrets, lies, and past with Grindelwald, not inherently for the deception. At least, that's my take on it.

(Also, Harry in DH is the least ruthless Harry in the series in some ways, which is weird since you would've thought it'll be the opposite. But this is a Doyolist qualm)

[rahleeyah]

I’m just so annoyed. I didn’t think there would be any monumental change since Dick Wolf is still at helm, but this whole thing is BS.

that we are back to a forced looking friendship between Liv and Rollins where things will be one sided. If you saw her last appearance, you will understand what I mean. Liv basically begging for scraps of affection from Rollins (like you once said) and R just fucking her over.

And oh god now she’s back to dealing with live victims again! The victim blaming that we will get.

Here's the thing, right? Is we need imperfect characters. We need characters who are selfish, manipulative, unkind. I like women who are brash, grubby little fuckups. I think we need more of them, not less.

What drives me absolutely out of my mind about Amanda, specifically, is that no one in her show seems to react to her as if she is mean, or selfish, or unkind, the result of which feels less like "evil girl power" and more like "what the fuck is going on here" to me. Think about house, right? House was a dick. Nightmare of a person. But Cuddy and Wilson both told him he was being a dick; Cuddy and Wilson loved him, but they knew he was an asshole and they acted like he was an asshole; when he hurt them they acknowledged that hurt. Like humans would do. Carisi and Liv love Amanda, but they don't seem to see that she's an asshole. It feels so unnatural; it creates this bizarre disconnect between what we've seen and what we're told. It's like the fucking Truman show; they're staring into the camera talking about how wonderful she is while I'm Truman looking around going bitch where? What are you talking about?

The best, most interesting moments between Liv and Amanda, imo, have been the moments where they drop the act and play off one another realistically, when they get to be hurt, get to call each other out, and we haven't seen that in YEARS. Their interactions have been so disjointed, so difficult to reconcile, and as a Liv girlie it genuinely upsets me to see her like. Turn into a doormat? Who has she ever been a doormat for? Just Amanda, apparently.

And that in itself is interesting - Liv doing whatever it takes to keep Amanda in her life, Liv accepting any degree of poor treatment as long as Amanda stays, Liv who never lets go of anything even if it hurts her, but I feel like I kinda have to dig for that deeper than I should have to.

[claimedcrossbows]

Wednesday S2 Episodes (5-7) Order Prediction Pt.2

So I saw an article on What's on Netflix and it's given us the other episode titles, now I did a prediction of what order I believe they will be in an my overall analysis of what I think might happen in those episodes.

And to be honest I think I agree with most of what the article predicts as the order of appearance, but I will explain why from my POV and give you a little more insight..because that's how I do things. 🤷🏾‍♀️

Now before I start I would also like to mention that this article also gave us what apparently was a leak? Where they gave the emoji's the correlated to each episode..and I want to address that as well but yeah let's go.

Now the article believes the Episode 5 title is "Woe Thyself" which would would correspond in this particular case with the "Heartbreak emoji 💔" (If the leaks prove true) Which I think makes sense, because I predicted the 4th episode would be "The Devil You Woe" Which would leave off with Wednesday going to Tyler for help.

And what better way to kick off Wednesday and Tyler's new adventure that an angst filled episode with Wednesday trying to get over her past feelings for Tyler, and Tyler trying to figure out his own identity and feelings hence the term "Woe Thyself" which is a play on "Love Thyself". Both Wednesday and Tyler have suffered heartbreak on different levels..So I think that could play a hand in what this episode is about.

Now of course do I think Weyler is the main focus of this episode about potential heartbreak? Of course not, something else tragic is probably going to happen in this episode..I just hope it's not Donovan Galpins sudden demise....

Now moving on.

The article believe Episode 6 is titled "Hide and Woe Seek" and again this makes sense if we're focusing on Tyler and having him help us..not only is this title a play on "Hyde and Woe Seek" with Tyler as we all know being the hyde..But what if this also focuses on Tyler trying to find out more information about his mother especially if something has literally just happened to his dad in the prior episode?? Like I could totally see Donovan meeting a sad demise in "Woe Thyself" only for the very next episode Tyler and Wednesday end up going to Morticia Addams to help learn more about Francoise Galpin and by Wednesday and Tyler seeking to find answers..they're ultimately playing a massive game of "Hide and Go Seek". I also feel like Wednesday's stalker might show up in this episode.

Since the alleged emoji leak says this Episode is symbolized by the "Red Alert 🚨" emoji..it can only mean that something dangerous is happening in this episode..which brings me back to a theory I have held onto for months now..What if Francoise Galpin is Wednesday's stalker..?

I'll let y'all chew on that and move on, but I am going to talk about that theory at a later date.

Moving on.

Lastly (For now) we have Episode 7 which the article believes is titled "This Means Woe" and well..that kind of speaks for itself right? I think there's 8 episodes in this season..Which means we still don't have a title reveal for the very last episode..But Episode 7 is definitely giving us the big climax just like episode 7 did last season with the Tyler reveal. Only this time..I think Wednesday is going to be facing an entire cult that she and the rest of the outcast are going to have to end up fighting..and if my theory is true about Francoise being alive and potentially in the cult...well wouldn't that theory line up perfectly well with the leak that Tyler gets kidnapped by the cult at the end of season and needs to be saved?

Francoise potentially kidnapping her son?

Hmm...

The emoji leaks says this episode represents the "Dynamite 🧨" emoji.. So this is going to be a very explosive episode in more ways than one.

Lastly as I said I don't think we have a title for episode 8 yet..Which makes me wonder if the title is going to be very spoilery..?

But the emoji leak did give us a really interesting clue.

It said the 8th episode represents the "Chess ♟️" emoji which makes me believe Wednesday is about to be in the ultimate chess match against her new opponent which is probably bianca's mom..and someone else..and maybe just maybe Francoise.

The reason I find this particularly interesting though is remember what Wednesday said at the end of last season?

She said she wondered if Laurel and Tyler were just pawns for someone else game?

Well pawns as we know are associated with chess...

Which makes me believe that Tyler once again is going to be a huge factor into this episode..The theory that he gets kidnapped just sky rocketed in my opinion.

But hey these are just my opinions and thoughts based off of this article and my own ideas..Let me know what you think though.

And what do you think the final episode will be titled??

[hard-times-paramore]

What kind of fucking cocaine do they put on Rose Tyler that if you watched seasons 1 and 2 of New Who you literally never get over her, ever? Billions of seasons upon years down the line, we'll be at Doctor 23 and I'll be 56 years old sitting in my couch going "I wish they'd bring back Rose Tyler, the Doctor deserves some more time with Rose Tyler".

[nanamisgirly]

you're bit too possessive toward your nerdྀི

the moment you spot them through the glass wall of the library study room, something primal inside you snaps.

your nerd. your sweet, tall, stuttering nerd.

and some other girl leaning all over him. all giggles and twirls of her stupid hair, looking up at him like he hung the stars. you can practically see the way her fingers brush “innocently” against his forearm. and gojo—this sweet, beautiful idiot gojo. he's just smiling, shyly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, completely, utterly oblivious of the advances the girl is making.

you see red. not the cute, flirty kind of jealous. no. 

you see murder.

by the time you stomp into the study room, he lights up the second he sees you—like a golden retriever seeing its favorite person. “babyy!” he blurts, half-standing so fast he nearly knocks over the chair. his knees bang the table. his pen scatter. he's flushed pink already, hands fidgeting with the hem of his stupid neat sweater, beaming at you like you're the sun itself.

meanwhile, the girl beside him falters, confused as hell when you swoop in, grab a fistful of his collar and yank him down into a messy kiss—a possessive and mean one, kissing him like you're marking him, like you're making a fucking declaration.

gojo gasps against your mouth, stunned, but immediately melts, tilting his head to give you more. he kisses back with desperate little noises, afraid if he doesn't, you'll change your mind and leave. when you pull back, he's breathless, blinking at you all dazed and drunk, glasses slipping halway down his nose. “i missed you…” he whispers.

you don't answer him, to focusing on the other girl. staring straight at her awkward form peeking up her books, face pale. you tilt your head and smile—sharp, unfriendly, a predator showing teeth. she scurries away without a word.

gojo blinks between you and the empty chair, confusion pinching his brows. “she…left? we didn't end the explanations—”

you grab his jaw in one hand, squeezing his cheeks until his lips squish pouty. “you,” you hiss, leaning so close your breath fans his pink ears, “are so fucking stupid, satoru.” his wide, panicked eyes blink down at you. “i-i am?” he stutters, looking on the verge of tears just because you're mad at him. “i-i didn't even—i mean…i was j-just doing the private lesson…i-i told you about it!” he babbles, desperate. not understanding a thing.

you shake his head a little by the jaw, making his glasses slip down worse. “yeah, yeah. i agreed on a private lesson." you snarl, voice dripping poison-sweet. "not private fucking sex.” you yank his wrist, dragging him out of the little study room, ignoring the curious heads turning to you. 

satoru stumbles after you, tripping over his own feet—over himself just to keep up. “y-you're mad,” he whines, almost breathless, cheeks burning red. “w-what did i…i didn't—”

his voice gets smaller when you spin around, shoving him back hard against the nearest wall. his back thuds against the cold surface, and he freezes up, chest heaving. “you really don't get it, huh?” 

that dumb, pretty face of his—lips pink from your previous kiss and from him nervously chewing them, his glasses crooked, his hair all messed up—god, you could eat him alive. “you let that clingy bitch touch you like that?” you spit. “smile at her like that? let her giggle and bat her lashes like you didn't already have someone who should be the only thing you look at??”

satoru is practically vibrating in place, like a kicked puppy. his Adam's apple bobs hard when he swallows. “i-i didn't notice!” he chokes out. “i swear, angel, i didn't! i-i didn't even l-look at her. .” your nails scrape up his chest through his hoodie, making him whimper. “you're mine, aren't you, 'toru?” he nods so fast you think he might give himself whiplash. “y-yes!! yours! of c-course, only yours!”

your hand snakes lower, palming the half-chub tenting his sweats. poor thing :( so quick to get hard just from yelling at him. “you're lucky you're cute,” you snap, but your heart is hammering at how real the panic was in his voice. 

you squeeze him through the fabric. his hips jolt into your hand with a pathetic little gasp. you watch his pretty white lashes flutter, poor boy was genuinely confused why you're so pissed—poor sweet nerd who only ever wanted you :((

you click your tongue. “my pretty nerd,” you mock sweetly, squeezing his cock harder through his pants, making his knees buckle. “getting hard just ‘cause i’m scolding you? bet you'd cum just from me slapping your face.” 

“i-i could! i would, i-if that's what y-you—ah!—want,” his mouth works uselessly searching for words, his brain short-circuiting because your hand's still lazily stroking him through his sweats. you lean up, biting his jaw hard enough to make him whines. 

"you’re gonna make it up to me," you murmur against his skin, voice syrupy sweet. "gonna let me use you however I want. gonna be a good boy for me, huh, satoru?" he was towering over you but he was so, so submissive.

he nods so fast again his glasses damn near fall off. "a-anything," he breathes. "please. please let me—lemme be good—i'll be so good, promise!"

[missdynamighttt]

hehehe sooo.. pro hero, husband! katsuki not being able to spend time with you took a toll on his agency, so someone said... you two needed to bone.

it had been weeks since katsuki had a proper night at home. pro hero work never let up but lately, it felt like it was eating him—late nights at the agency, barely any sleep, reports, patrols, meetings.

you understood. it was his job, his responsibility, but his stress showed in the way he snapped at people more often, his fuse shorter than usual.

and today? he was especially pissed.

the whole office refused to confront dynamight about it, until some dumbass sidekick, probably sick of his rage-fueled outbursts, muttered under his breath, “tch. man just needs to go home and bone his wife.”

the room went silent.

dead silent.

katsuki stopped mid-step, shoulders going rigid. his head turned slowly toward him, eyes burning like he was about to set the entire building on fire.

"the fuck did you just say?"

the sidekick, to his credit, had the audacity to look innocent. "i mean, you’re obviously tense, and i'm sure she’s—"

he lunged at him. it took three other sidekicks to hold him back as he damn near flipped his desk over.

“YOU'RE FUCKIN' DEAD! BONE?!” katsuki roared, struggling against his coworkers like a wild animal. "say that shit again, i dare you! you think i’m pissed ‘cause i ain’t fucking my wife enough?!”

the whole agency floor collectively held its breath.

the poor sidekick scrambled for an excuse. “n-no! i-i just meant—uh, stress relief! yeah! y’know, intimacy is good for—”

katsuki grabbed a random clipboard and hurled it across him. he missed by a centimeter. “you think i don’t wanna fuckin' go home to her?! huh?!”

“sir—”

“i wanna go home so bad! i wanna see her, i wanna kiss her, i wanna lay on her tits and sleep for the whole fuckin’ day,” he ranted, voice cracking from pure frustration. “BUT NOOO! i’m stuck here writing reports and dealing with dumbasses like you!”

the office was dead silent.

it took a solid ten minutes for him to cool down, grumbling and seething as he rubbed his temples.

but his mind did wander.

to you. to the way he missed your voice. to how fucking long it had been since he held you properly.

to the way he always found you asleep by the time he got home, curled up on his side of the bed, waiting for him.

… fuck. maybe the sidekick did have a point.

katsuki inhaled sharply. then, with wild determination, he grabbed his his stuff, and stormed toward the exit. the agency could handle itself for the night. he had better things to do.

“fuck this. i'm goin' home to my wife."

meanwhile, you had barely settled on the couch, ready to enjoy a quiet evening alone, when the front door slammed open. you jolted, turning toward the entrance just in time to see katsuki storming in—looking like a man on a mission.

“katsu—” you barely got his name out before his mouth crashed onto yours, hot and urgent, like he’d been starving for this. you gripped his shirt as he pulled you impossibly close, practically lifting you off the floor.

you gasped against his lips as his hands cupped your cheeks, tilting your head as he deepened the kiss, pressing his body against yours.

strong hands cupped your face, rough but desperate. his lips were everywhere—your cheeks, your nose, your jaw, the corner of your lips—like he was making up for lost time.

and when he finally let you breathe, his forehead pressed against yours, panting slightly, his hands still gripping your waist like he was afraid you’d disappear.

you were breathless, blinking up at him in shock. “what the hell?”

katsuki exhaled sharply, his forehead resting against yours. “i missed you.”

your brows furrowed. “you left for work this morning.”

“exactly,” his lips brushed against yours again, softer this time. “should’ve come home sooner.”

it was then you realized—he was home way earlier than usual. normally, he'd get caught up in work, buried in reports or dealing with patrols, but tonight…

“wait, why are you home so early?” you asked, still dazed.

katsuki huffed. his fingers slid down to your waist, gripping you tightly. “tch. dumbass sidekick at work said i just needed to fuck my wife to fix my attitude.”

your jaw dropped. “excuse me?”

his lips brushed yours again, softer this time. “so i left early to prove ‘em right.”

your face burned. “katsuki!”

but he was already leaning in again, smirking against your lips. “better get comfortable, sweets. i’m makin’ up for lost time.”

and when katsuki stepped into the office that morning, something was… off.

for the first time in weeks, he didn’t stomp in with a permanent scowl, barking at everyone the second he crossed the threshold. his usual sharp glare was dulled, his shoulders weren’t tense as tense.

instead, katsuki looked, dare they say it—relaxed. his jaw wasn’t clenched, his brows weren’t furrowed, and the usual aggressive boom of his steps was noticeably tamer.

hell, the man even had a post-nut glow so obvious. skin clear, posture loose, and zero unnecessary shouting.

no explosions. no immediate death threats. no one getting yelled at for breathing too loud.

everyone noticed.

by the time he made it to his desk, his coworkers were already exchanging looks, whispering amongst themselves like they’d just seen a miracle.

"uh…" one of his sidekicks was the first to cautiously approach. “sir. you good?”

katsuki just grunted, rolling his shoulders before cracking his neck. “feelin’ great, actually.”

and that’s when it clicked. a murmur spread through the office as realization slammed into them.

“you boned last night,” he stated, like it was the discovery of the century.

katsuki just smirked, grabbing some files off his desk. “what’s it to ya?”

the room erupted.

“holy shit, i forgot he could be normal—”

“i haven’t known peace in months.”

“oh my god, mrs bakugo katsuki, if you can hear this—thank you for your service!”

someone started clapping.

then, the entire office cheered.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ i think y'all know where this is inspired from but js in case, its from a sitcom named brooklyn 99 where this girl tells her boss he needs to bone his husband lmao😭 hope yall enjoyed!!

[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

[g-k444]

Going to a party this Saturday. Push up bra, low waisted jeans w my thong's straps visible as they encompass the fat of my hips and show beneath my cropped v-neck

oh all the whorish things i could do

suck a dick in the next room, get fingered upstairs, even makeout in the same room as everyone else

but what are all the whorish things that everyone could do to me?

you know, when i cant find my phone and am struggling to walk from one side of the room to the other so that i can find it and call and uber and end this godforsaken party by going to bed...

everyone's begun trickling out and it's just the host and a couple of his mates who are staying the night, now, waving the last guy out and giving a girl her bag before her friend drives them home.

then the man helping me find my phone turns on my the minute the front door is locked.

"C'mon guys, get her upstairs"

I'm barely in control of my body - my force weakened as i struggle against the arms that hold either side of my body and strongly walk me to the stairs

but i cant make it up.

my body collapses into the stairs and a groan leaves my mouth. i want to leave; i dont want to go upstairs with these boys. i cant even make it up the stairs. my body is too weak from the alcohol of too many drinks to count over the course of the night.

"You aren't going to come up? We're being nice to you here trying to take you to a bed but you're gonna resist? fine, fuck you, you can take it on the stairs instead like the bitch you are."

there isn't a flat surface to lean my head back against, a man's hips hammering his cock into my mouth as my head limps rests against the edge of the stair, mouth loose and motionless, groaning around his cock lowly as he uses my orifices

i can feel and hear two others spitting on my pussy and dragging it over my folds and playing with my pussy for their entertainment. Pushing a flap left and right to toy with a pussy that wasn't being protected by a sober, private girl like i would normally be.

I could feel their spit dripping from over my pussy to my asshole, and before i knew it I could feel either hole being penetrated - my body manhandled into a better position whilst no no nononoNO'S- left my mouth at the thickness of the cock that began moving mercilessly in my tight hole, balls slapping against my skin as if bruising my self-worth

"God, you gotta see her tits swinging when you fuck her - lemme take a vid to remember - that's gotta be the most shamelessly whorey pair i've ever seen..."

I tried to cover my face with a face, but the hand beneath me gave out instead, and so my body collapsed into the stairs beneath my body. The man holding the camera courteously picked me up and held my up by a shoulder so that my tits still swung for the camera in front.

"Sent to the groupchat, they're replying... Yep, they appreciate the view just as much."

Another cry left my mouth and I felt something tap against my cheek to shut me up. Someone yielded their hard cock in their hand, and appeared to have slapped it against my face to shut me up. I tried to open my mouth to let them just put it in - my drunken brain not working for itself as it urged me to let the man get his release in my mouth

but instead, he continued to keep rubbing his shaft over my face - letting the tip rub against the socket of my eye and the length press into my cheek, letting it movie over either of my wet lips

"Oh the boys in the groupchat really like it. They say they're comin' over in 5 to get some themselves. Hope you're ready for a good long night tonight bitch, because you aren't gonna be able to walk out the door tomorrow morning. Oh no, we're gonna fuck you dumb tonight, then use your broken-bitch body to get us off tomorrow morning, too."

[penins]

Also on mob psycho I am just so happy and sad and all the feelings for mob. My god that boy is going through it. Only just started season three but man. He has got a quite amazing support system but also so many people using him and I can only imagine this going poorly.... as much as reigen may actually care for mob now like hes the luckiest man alive to both be alive and also still have mob's trust. Mob and emotions and fridndship and ahhhhh. The "get a clue" scene just. Oh man. I wish I was more articulate but I just started watching it today soo. Just excitement

[kitten4sannie]

antithesis

pairing: peter parker/venom! yunho x gf! reader

genre: spider man au, smut

summary: your boyfriend is going through a phase.

w.c: 3.3k (porn with a microscopic amount of plot)

warnings: dom! yunho, sub! reader, venom should have his own warning bc bro is NASTYY (so is yuyu 🤝🏻), partial mind manipulation? on yunho’s part? bc venom is in his head? idk, praise/degradation, pet names/name calling, teasing, fingering, hand kink….,, SIZE KINK., manhandling, pussy eating, tongue kink, raw feral sex (doggy + missionary), bro has a monster cock, also monster fucking!! bc venom takes over <3, cum eating, breeding kink, bulge kink, dacryphilia, mind break, record breaking creampie

a/n: listen …….i LOVE venom, the things i would let venom do to me would set humanity back at least fifty years. NOW VENOM YUNHO ON THE OTHER HAND,, oh boy. boyyyy oh boy. i don’t think i have to explain myself when it comes to that combination bc this fic speaks for itself lol. are you curious now? why don’t you give it a peek then, hm? (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ and then lemme know what you thought of it pretty please? <3

song rec: new woman - lisa feat. rosalía (get it bc he’s a new man - bc of venom - 😼)

fictober 2024

“And just where have you been, Jeong Yunho?” you asked your boyfriend in a more teasing manner than anything, once he snuck in past the sliding glass door of the balcony, getting up from the couch you were waiting restlessly on. When he stood there silently just looking at you through the white eye-shaped sections of his mask, you pouted, nervously wrapping a lock of hair around your finger. “Just be honest with me and I won’t be mad, okay?” 

Despite the lack of sleep, you were ready for him this time. He wasn’t about to casually sneak in or out of the house another night that week without you catching him. Usually, you wouldn’t have been concerned because you were used to him being gone when there was crime taking place or a super villain that needed to be brought to justice, but recently…your boyfriend was acting strange. He was starting to become moody and secretive, opting to brush you off when you asked him about it. Yunho had even taken up using substances in his free time, finding him drunk or high off his ass in the apartment when you got home from work. The final straw was when you came home one night to find him in the kitchen with freshly dyed hair and new piercings he had given himself, a few empty boxes of black hair dye and bloody safety pins laying haphazardly on the kitchen counter. 

Yunho took off his mask and rubbed at his eyes like he was tired, leaving a bit of smeared eyeliner underneath them, before shoving his hands into the pockets of his frayed jacket, the one that was slightly zipped just enough to cover his iconic red suit. 

“She knows about us,” said the annoying parasite that had just recently made a home inside him. “We should eat her.”

“No, I’m not doing that,” Yunho grumbled, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

You walked up to him, gently putting a hand on his chest. “Yun, I just wanna know where you were at, that’s all. You know I respect your space,” you murmured, your pout growing slightly, your eyebrows upturned with concern. 

“She’s looking at us with those big round eyes again, Yunho,” Venom told his host, letting out a disgusting groan only he could hear. “It’s gonna make us hard. If we’re not going to eat her, let’s fuck her, at least.” 

“Mingi asked me to take care of some douchebags that had been causing trouble at that new club he works at. That’s all, baby,” Yunho replied softly, reaching down to press the back of his hand against your cheek, before cupping it. He noticed the teary look inside your doe eyes. “Hey, are you okay?” 

You nuzzled into his big warm hand, before reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck to hold your boyfriend close. “I’m fine…I’ve just been worried about you, Yun. You’ve been acting a bit…different.” 

“Let’s show her just how different we’ve become, Yunho,” Venom egged him on, knowing Yunho could feel just how much he wanted to break through the barrier of his host’s mind and take control. “She’ll love it.”

How could he possibly explain to you that he was always in a never-ending battle with a frightening otherworldly parasite that had found its way inside of him? You would be so scared and disgusted, you’d probably never trust him again. He couldn’t risk losing you, not when you were his only anchor to the normal life he desperately craved, and the first person he’s ever felt this strongly about. 

“I’m just going through a phase, I think,” Yunho expressed wholeheartedly, resting his hands around your waist, his thumbs slightly pressing into your hip bones through your sleep shirt, feeling just how delicate you truly were. You were so small compared to him, practically swimming in one of his band t-shirts that you regularly wore to bed; you were so tiny and cute, and…”Malleable,” Venom finished. Yunho couldn’t tell if the parasite was influencing all of his thoughts or if he was just that perverted. 

“Do you wanna talk about it, Yun?” You pressed yourself closer to Yunho, feeling his large hands enclose around your small waist, making you feel a bit dizzy. When he shook his head, you tilted yours, wondering if what you felt pushing against your middle was exactly what you thought it was. “Or, do you want to take me to bed?” 

It had felt like forever since Yunho had touched you, kissed you even. You had almost forgotten what it was like to feel him inside you, filling you up over and over again until his love spilled out. Just the thought alone made your body begin to overheat. Was it wrong of you to take his simple answer at face value? Should you have pushed the issue, instead of letting him push you back into the wall of the hallway? You weren’t sure, but you were just grateful that your boyfriend still wanted you like this. 

“Did punching those guys at the club make you this horny?” you asked playfully, a sudden shiver of pleasure shooting up your spine when Yunho’s warm hands snaked up underneath your shirt and began groping at your tits.

“So horny,” Yunho joked back, watching you instantly melt underneath his touch, a shaky exhale escaping his bobbing throat as he swallowed. 

 “Nnngh, I didn’t know fighting crime did it for you, Yun.” 

“Knowing I’m already getting your little pussy wet just from this is what’s doing it for me, baby,” he whispered into your ear, having to practically lower himself to your height just to do so, able to clearly hear the breathless moan that left your lips. Yunho was already breathing hard, his mind swimming with constant racing thoughts that all pertained to his pretty little girlfriend and what he was going to do to you, squishing your soft flesh in between his slender fingers, using his thumbs to rub your hardening nipples in teasing circles. 

It had felt like eternity since Yunho had allowed himself to feel you underneath his touch, to even simply look at you with unbridled lust. He wanted to see all of you, witness the way you completely opened yourself up to him. It was driving him insane. Was it selfish of him to give into temptation when there was something else living inside him? Something that he knew was taking even more pleasure in this than he was? He wasn’t exactly sure, but he knew it was far too late to stop now. 

“Let us see her tits, Yunho, they feel so nice inside our hands, we need to see,” Venom demanded, desperately shaking the bars of his figurative cage. 

When Yunho tugged your shirt up and over your tits, your gasp became muffled, your eyes widening as he stuffed the hem of the shirt into your mouth. You were going to close your legs to keep your arousal from spilling down your thighs, but your eager boyfriend pushed his larger one in between them. 

“You’re so pretty, angel,” Yunho cooed softly, admiring the way you began to grind your cunt against his thigh, despite the sheepish expression you offered him, a bit of drool escaping the corner of his mouth from witnessing such a display of pure desperation. “Look at you go…rubbing yourself all over my thigh like a horny little slut.” 

“N-not a slut,” you whimpered softly, his insult causing a fresh wave of slick to leak out onto Yunho’s torn jeans. “Just need you, Yuyu.” 

“Her breeding hole needs to be trained to handle my size. Do it now,” Venom growled into Yunho’s mind, growing more and more demanding by the second, very aware that his host was starting to lose control of himself. 

“Yeah? How about this?” Yunho pulled your panties to the side so that he could watch as your greedy cunt swallowed up one of his long, bony fingers to the knuckle. “Is that enough, baby?” 

“I meant with your human sized cock, you insufferable prick,” Venom chided, simply not understanding the pleasurable benefits that prolonged foreplay could offer being the uninhibited hothead that he was. 

Something about the way Yunho was taking his time unraveling you, the way he was drinking in the sight of your bare body with pure lust inside his eyes, with only a single digit plunged inside you so far made you pulse and squeeze around it. “F-full.”  

“But I barely fit one finger inside you, sweetheart. What’ll happen if I put another?” Yunho suddenly tugged your borrowed t-shirt up and over your head, leaning in close to your face to catch the way your breath hitched as soon as he slipped another finger inside, curling them just enough to hit your sweet spot each time he finger-fucked you, earning a few whiny moans from his beloved girlfriend. “Oh, that’s right. You turn into my little sex toy, don’t you?” 

“Y-esss, Yuyu, just for you, fuck,” you cried out, hooking your arms around his neck to keep yourself from completely melting into the floor. 

“That’s a good girl,” he groaned into your ear, quickly stuffing his slippery digits into you, incapable of getting Venom’s ungodly thoughts out of his head all the while. Fuck, he was feeling hot, dizzy. His head and cock were throbbing. He needed more. They needed more. He had no choice but to shove a third finger into you, your slick walls pulsating around him. “You think you’re feeling full now…just wait till my cock’s inside you.”

Gasping, your nails dug into his back through his clothes. “Oh my god, Yunho, give it to me, please, please, please,” you whined breathlessly into his neck, trembling in his arms as overwhelming pleasure washed over you. “N-need your cock in me.” 

“Fuck, I can’t believe you’re already begging to be fucked like that. I almost forgot how much of a needy little slut you are when you need cock. You like the thought of me stretching out your little pussy that much, huh?” He smiled darkly against your heated skin, slowly dragging his tongue along it as you whimpered and nodded your head to his obscene question, not allowing you to witness the brief moment his eyes turned completely black. “I just might split you open.” 

You almost didn’t recognize your boyfriend when he tossed you onto your shared bed like you weighed close to nothing, and you certainly didn’t recognize him when he manipulated your limbs until you were laying with your head down against the mattress and your ass up in the air. Usually, he wanted to do missionary, so that he could kiss and look at you when you both came undone, but now, now he had you in a position that was apparently ‘perfect for breeding’, or at least, that’s what you thought you had heard him mumbling about from behind you. 

“Now’s the time, human. We must show her how great we are,” the alien reminded Yunho, delighted that his black parasitic poison was now making its way through his host’s veins, showing up from underneath his milky skin. It was changing him in ways that would most definitely benefit all three of you. 

Yunho squeezed his large hands into the sides of your ass and spread it open, hyper focused on your dripping cunt and how it struggled to accommodate his ungodly size. “Poor baby’s so tiny, my little princess can barely take me inside her pretty cunt,” he sighed, pulling out just enough to send a few strands of spit onto his own cock, lubing up the base of it and pushing back in, a shiver of pleasure shooting up his spine as soon as he heard the broken cry that left your drooling mouth. “Looks like we’re going to have to break you in.” 

You felt like you were losing your mind. Your boyfriend had just barely bottomed out inside of you and you were already about to cream yourself. And, it might’ve been the cock-drunk state you were in, but you swore to god that his dick got bigger. It felt like it was kissing your cervix already and he hadn’t even moved yet. Not to mention, it felt so hot inside you, and there was so much pre-cum coating your walls, you almost thought he had came prematurely, but he would’ve been asleep and snoring away already if he did. 

Yunho violently interrupted your train of thought by slamming his hips forward, letting out a deep, long groan as though he were experiencing euphoria. He grabbed your wrists and held them behind your back, tucking them together so that he could hold them both with one large hand, and quickly got to work, yanking you back onto his cock, using you like his own personal sex doll. “That’s fucking it, isn’t it, angel? You like that? You fucking like that?” 

“Nnh, yeah– fuck me, don’t stop,” you moaned back, realizing this ‘phase’ of Yunho’s was one of the best things that could’ve ever happened to the both of you, previously unaware that something this rough and borderline animalistic could feel as good as it did. 

“She’s ours, she’s ours, Yunho, fuck, we’re going to cum inside her,” Venom blissfully announced into Yunho’s head, fully taking over his host in that very instant, gracing Yunho with the symbiote’s much more endowed features. 

It was then that you let out a sudden gasp, the air that quickly filled your lungs leaving as a wavering moan of pleasure instead. It was almost as if Yunho’s cock had grown twice in size. You didn’t even know how that was possible, but you were too lost in the moment to question it. “So big, it’s so fucking big, Yunho, nnnngh, it’s gonna break me,” you exhaled, quickly pulling at the sheets once he gifted you partial physical autonomy, your eyes beginning to disappear underneath your lashes. 

“That’s right, pretty girl, and you’re going to keep taking it all, even after I’m done impregnating you,” Yunho agreed huskily, bending over you until his overheated body pressed into your shoulders and back, his long fingers curling around the softness of your hips once again. Just as his never-ending seed spilled into you and made its way into your womb, Yunho dragged his long, heavy tongue up in between your straining shoulder blades and along your neck, savoring your flavor. He truly wanted to eat you, unable to stop drooling, but the annoying mortal he shared this body with wouldn’t let him. Venom figured he would have to settle for the next best thing.  

You didn’t even have a chance to finish shaking, let alone take a breath, before you were being lifted up and lowered back down onto your boyfriend’s face, your cunt fitting snugly between the curves of Yunho’s lips and nose. Just as he lapped at your extremely sensitive clit and slit, you couldn’t help but jolt away, his forearms suddenly locking tightly around your middle. “O-oh…!” 

“Hold still. Need a taste of this pretty cunt,” Yunho growled under his breath, angling his head back and opening his mouth wide enough so that he could explore the entirety of your used cunt, licking and drinking up the mixed arousal that spilled out of you to his heart’s content.

“Y-yunhooo,” you whined pathetically, reaching forward to hold onto the headboard to keep yourself from passing out from the pleasure that was overloading your mind, looking down to watch how he eagerly nosed at your clit. “Fuck, i’ll cum again…” 

“Then, do it, princess.” Just as he swallowed down more of your wetness, he realized it wasn’t enough, unable to keep himself from sliding the entirety of his tongue inside you, feeling you clench around the base of it. 

“Oh my god, your tongue, it’s so–haaaah,” you reacted breathlessly, digging your nails into the wood of the headboard, the longer his serpent-like tongue slithered in and out of you so seamlessly, unable to fully understand how any of this was possible. When the thickest part of his appendage rubbed at your g-spot, you saw white around your vision, your ears ringing, unable to hear the filthy slurping sounds Yunho was making underneath you as he drank up your squirt. 

When you came to, you were back underneath Yunho, in the missionary position he loved so much, yet this time it was profoundly different. His eyes were as dark as his freshly dyed hair, one corner of his mouth split open, inviting a myriad of long, serrated fangs, all while black wispy tendrils clung onto one side of his face like a second skin. You realized too late why Yunho was acting so out of character, and that you were never actually alone with him the past few weeks. You had an uninvited guest, an alien symbiote known as Venom, to be exact — and here you were, face to face with him, his massive alien cock stretching your used cunt open to the point of no return.

“Oh god, you’re actually going to split me open, what the fuck,” you gasped sharply, clutching the sides of Yunho’s cheeks, your fingers tugging at the ends of his sweaty hair. 

“Silly human, as much as we’d enjoy seeing that, you won’t split apart. You have a prime body for breeding, didn’t you know?” he chuckled darkly in a two-toned voice, pressing his hand down into your abdomen to feel the sheer size of himself protruding through your lower belly each time his hips routinely smacked into yours. “We knew Spider-man’s pretty little girlfriend would make a perfect host for our offspring. Just look at you, you’re taking us so well.” 

You didn’t know what was going to break your mind first, the fact that you were essentially being used as a breeding tool for an alien that would take great pleasure in swallowing you whole, or the fact that your cunt was eagerly swallowing up something so absurdly large, its heavy girth and width stretching you so wide, it felt as though you would fall apart at any given time. Despite the insanity of it all, your body and mind welcomed it, creaming yourself on his throbbing cock. 

“Good girlll,” Yunho praised, letting his long slimy tongue slip out to lick up the side of your cheek until he tasted the salt of your tears. He fully sheathed himself inside you one last time, before his large hands cemented around your waist, holding you completely still as his hot load joined the other one he had previously fucked into you, his heavy breaths warming the skin of your neck. “That’s it, princess, take it all, just like that…” 

You could hardly breathe, let alone move, simply laying still in your boyfriend’s arms, taking everything he gave you, as wave after wave of cum coated the insides of your aching cunt and flooded womb, some of it spilling down the insides of your legs and dripping onto the stained sheets below. It felt so good to be filled up in such a way, to be truly bred, that you came again without direct stimulation, letting out a broken cry, before Yunho silenced you with a gentle kiss. 

When you opened your teary eyes, your boyfriend’s previously monstrous traits were gone, instead replaced with his usual soft, flushed features that you adored so much. You watched him open and close his mouth, as if he didn’t know what to say. You pressed another kiss to his lips, weakly running your fingers through his hair. “Should we go to the drugstore to get Plan B?”

Yunho gave you a goofy, though apologetic smile, leaning his face into your neck to give it a few kisses. He pulled himself back up to face you, his eyebrows upturned. “D-do you think it would work on an alien symbiote?” 

You patted his head, knowing what you signed up for when you decided to date the Spider-man, figuring one of his superhero friends would have a solution for the both of you. You gave him a soft smile, happy when he returned it. “If not, let’s get a refund.” 

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