[masterlist Of Masterlists]

{Regular Inspired AU x NCT 127} Mark Lee

tw: weapons mention, violence mention, be warned. everything written here is a work of FICTION, and does not in anyway reflect reality  an: please read the introduction to this au first so you understand :-) 

“i said i was going to keep you safe. i couldnt even do that.”

Keep reading

dude, but like romantically

Characters: Mark Lee & female reader

Setting & genre: college au, friends to lovers, ‘and they were roommates’, slice of life, fluff, comedy

Summary: You expected nothing but stress from your last college semester, so when Mark Lee came along and called you dude, you had to re-calculate everything.

Warnings: semi-typical college parties, alcohol consumption, Mark is precious (#SoftMarkLeeHours) and a funny drunk, he also ruins eggs like a pro, slow burn, stressing out your friends with your obliviousness like it was graded, i know nothing about basketball and it shows, includes discussion about the stress and uncertainties of being a senior at college, bunch of nct and 99-line cameos

Words: 10k

Author’s note: this in no way tries to represent korean universities’ last semester since i wrote it based on my own alma mater. the whole thing actually started because Johnny said Mark plays the guitar shirtless in the dorms

This is dedicated to @restlessmaknae because I thought a college au with a 99-liner would be quite fitting today. Congratulations on officially graduating! <3

Mark Lee was a friend of a friend.

Sure, you had seen him around before. You had known of him just like anyone else who wasn’t living under a rock during their college years since he was not only a player of the university’s basketball team (Go Eagles, the crowd would cheer enthusiastically) but he was also part of Johnny’s crew which meant he was at every social get-together this campus had seen.

So yeah, you had probably run into him at some party, maybe even clinked your shot glass to his once without caring too much about who sat at the table, maybe bumped into him on the corridor of the apartment complex close to college where most of the residents were students you knew hence where half of the house parties you had attended had taken place. You had heard that he was a funny drunk, that he had the most random philosophical questions at 2AM in the morning, that his history with eggs had gone deep (whatever that meant, you didn’t dare to ask) but most of all, that he was overall a nice guy. Nobody had ever breathed a bad word about Mark Lee, so that was the only reason why you were contemplating on agreeing to this ridiculous idea despite not even knowing the guy.

“Come on, it’s not like you have to move in with him until you go to retirement. You need a place to stay and he needs a new flatmate to share the costs with. I’m pretty sure he would be down for a short-term stay too,” Johnny pushed the plate of snacks towards you as if he told you to stop moping and just take this opportunity that had presented itself in front of you.

“And you’re not saying that only because you feel bad for ditching him for your girlfriend?” you raised a brow challengingly which earned you a snicker from said girl.

You and Sohyun had shared a few classes and became quick friends despite her being a year above. It was through her that you had gotten to know Johnny and his broad friend group at all. The couple decided to move together now that Sohyun was about to start her masters and that left Johnny’s old flatmate alone.

“Well, it’s not me crying over my French fries in a diner because I have a shitty landlord kicking me out, am I?” Johnny retorted and you knew he was right.

You needed a solution and you needed it quickly because your landlord apparently got the offer of the century and would sell his apartment to some big corporation to build an office there. You got exactly two weeks to move out and you had already spent one panicking. At this point you really just needed a place to stay until you figured your shit out and found a proper place to live because the new semester was coming up quickly.

“I hate it when you’re right,” you muttered under your breath, sipping on your shake with a resigned sigh.

“Then you must hate me a lot. Don’t worry, Mark is a great flatmate. Just don’t ask him to cook for you because he’ll end up burning the kitchen down or poisoning you,” Johnny shrugged and it made you chuckle until you realized that you were the only one laughing. It must have been a joke… right?

Or maybe not, because the moment you stepped into the flat for the first time, you could already smell something burning. Luckily, there was no smoke or any other worrying factor but still, you froze out in the hallway, toeing off your shoes tentatively.

“Hello?” you questioned in a small, uncertain voice while pulling your suitcase after you.

Mark Lee apparently agreed to you moving in to his empty room without even meeting you before because to quote Johnny ‘yeah, he was cool with it’ which was crazy to you but maybe it was just you, overthinking everything and being paranoid about sleeping under the same roof as people who could turn out to be serial killers. Okay, not to be so drastic but still. You are moving in with a stranger though, so maybe you’re just as crazy.

“Hey!” A boy, familiar enough but not quite, walks out of what you assume is the kitchen with a plate and a huge grin plastered on his face as if he didn’t wear his tee inside out and had bed hair while doing so. His round glasses sat on his nose a bit lopsided but it only added to his casual home-y look.

“Toasts?” he offered the content of the plate in hands and ah, so it was the smell, you note, glancing at the black spots on the bread.

“Uhm, no, thanks,” you mumbled slowly, not wanting to offend him by rejecting his kindness right off the bat but you also tried to keep yourself to Johnny’s advice which for once didn’t seem unfounded. Who let this guy into the kitchen when he could burn even his toast?

“Wise choice, man, I’m not even sure this is good for my health to be fair,” Mark Lee giggled, honest to god giggled, with a boyish smile stretching across his face and bit into the toast anyways before he showed you to your room, mouth half-full with bread.

He didn’t ask dozens of questions like why you were looking for a room, how long you were planning on staying, about your habits like the owners of all the other places you had checked out had done, instead he kept apologizing about the state of the room because he hadn’t really cleaned it since Johnny had left. He even helped you carry one of the suitcases after he put down the rest of his burnt breakfast. He told you about the neighbours (like the scary girl with the barking dog across the corridor and the Chinese students right next door) and house rules about the apartment like the recycling principles and how they had this system with Johnny about taking out the rubbish.

“Not that I expect you to adapt to everything I used to do with Johnny, just you know it seems fair,” he quickly explained, looking a bit anxious about this whole rules thing until you told him that it was okay, he should have continued living how he had done before and you would go along with it. You didn’t want him to make exceptions because you weren’t friends or just because you were a girl. You believed in equality, so you could take out the rubbish just as much as he could clean the bathroom after himself. Mark chuckled at that and nodded with a wide smile before remembering his poor coffee that must have gone cold on the kitchen counter. You told him you would be okay alone, packing out, and you would look for him if you had questions. The boy who had previously said that he was cool with you moving in seemed way too relieved hearing that, so maybe you weren’t the only one worrying after all. It started off well though.

Maybe it was because you had never had close guy friends before – since you only tended to befriend guys through your friends already – but living with Mark was a much simpler affair than what you had thought. You had all these crazy what ifs about boy and girl cohabitation and the awkwardness of it but the first time the boy saw you in your shorts and Harry Potter tee you used as a PJ he was like yo dude, which house would you be in? I’m a Hufflepuff. So maybe it was rather just his personality, making everything nice and casual, so all your previous stereotypical fears about living with a guy had disappeared once you realized your flatmate straight out dude-zoned you.

"Yeah, that sounds like Mark," Mina laughed when you met for the first time since your move in with the boy. She had known him because they had shared a few classes and because she had to interview him after last season's winning match for the university journal. “He is practically friends with everyone.”

And he really was. The basketball team was one thing but you once went to the corner coffee shop together on your way to the campus and he was on first name basis with the baristas then you ran into some upperclassmen who were clearly fond of the boy and he had mentioned so many names and programmes (dinner with Jungwoo on Friday, Ten needs him for something on Saturday then helping Jisung with an assignment on Sunday and so on) only a few days into you living together that you wouldn’t have been surprised if he knew the whole university. He seemed to have a social battery incapable of running out and seeing how easy-going he was with everyone, you were not really surprised when he asked about going to a party together only a week and half into living together. You were actually in the middle of doing your makeup when there was a knock on your door and inviting him in, Mark peaked in.

“Hey, are you coming to Johnny and Sohyun’s housewarming party?” he asked and when you told him that you were just getting ready actually, his whole face brightened like fairy lights during the festive season. “Cool, wanna go together?”

“Sure,” you nodded because you didn't see anything weird in it. Actually, it would have been even weirder if you went your separate ways when you lived at the same place and your friends knew.

Mark disappeared from your door then and came back not much later with a white tee with a funny print and a black sleeveless band shirt, holding them up for you to see.

“Which is better? I mean, I like the white one but I’m a bit afraid things will get out of hands tonight and I will spill something all over it, but it’s not that hot to–”

“Wear the black and put on a jacket,” you decided before Mark could have gotten into his long psychological rants about the subjectivity of body temperature. You honestly doubted he would have gotten cold wearing a sleeveless shirt at a party while based on what you had heard of him, you could indeed see him ruining his white clothes with something sticky and colorful. Mark didn't even question your choice though, just went with it with a thumbs up and you had to admit he looked good in that varsity jacket he had thrown over the tee.

There was no awkwardness in the air as the two of you were riding the subway, unlike what you expected, because Make made it easy to talk about even the ridiculous things. He told you funny stories about Johnny and in exchange you told him how you had gotten to know his girlfriend and once you two had gotten to the apartment, greeted by the hosts with wide smiles, you gave Sohyun the kitchen supplies kit you had brought (and Mark helped you carry with more enthusiasm you would have expected from someone who hated the gym) thinking of the girl’s shock at the lack of proper equipment at their new place. Sohyun beamed at you and nudged Johnny in the side who in exchange offered you two welcome drinks.

Afterwards, you parted ways with Mark, him being swept up by Jaehyun from the basketball team and you looking for your friends. It was like any other loud and fun party, you were pleasantly buzzed but not too much because you knew your limits when you ran into your flatmate later that night again. Or rather he bumped into you, literally, and over the course of the night you had to realize that Mark’s tipsy antics were indeed funny.

“And then… then d’you know what Jeno said?” he tripped over his own words so immersed in the story half of which you didn’t even catch while trying to help him keep his balance. Gosh, being an athlete wasn’t he supposed to hold his liquor better? Or maybe he did, it was just that everyone seemed to push drinks into his hands and he was too nice to reject them.

“I don’t know. What did he say?” you questioned, partly actually curious about the end of the story and partly just to not ruin the mood for the boy. But Mark’s reaction, all wide eyed and genuine, made you chuckle.

“Huh, dunno that’s why I asked you,” he blurted out, looking honestly confused while you not only had no idea what Jeno had said but you didn’t even know who he was.

“Okay, buddy, it’s time to get you home,” you told him and felt like the responsible friend when you had to convince him by promising to buy ice cream because he got all pouty and whiny about wanting to stay because he had so much fun. But you had seen Johnny carry him home before, so you took upon this flatmate duty and left together with him before Mark could have burnt himself (or set something on fire) with the flaming shot he saw Ten making in the kitchen. By the time you made it to the bus stop, Mark stopped whining. Instead he asked you why Johnny didn’t come and you had to remind him that they weren’t living together anymore.

“Oh, right,” Mark mumbled, dozing off on your shoulder as soon as you found a seat on the bus. He looked so cute and peaceful you felt almost bad for waking him up when you got near your neighborhood.

You helped him stumble into his room, preparing painkillers and water for him, helping him take off the jacket he was ready to sleep in before leaving him in his room. You just got out of the shower, ready for bed when you saw Johnny’s text, thanking you for taking care of Mark. The elder might have acted all cool and casual but you got to know pretty fast that he basically looked at the boy as his baby brother, so no wonder he was worried. But lucky for him, you believed it was only human decency to make sure your flatmate got home safely.

Mark though seemed awfully embarrassed by his actions the next day, promising that he wasn’t always like this and swearing he could actually take care of himself. He also insisted he would treat you to something as a thank you and even though you kept saying it was nothing, who were you to say no to free food?

Weeks passed and you eased into this comfortable situation so well that you stopped looking for other apartments. For one, you didn't really have time besides your studies and internship to stress over something like housing and Johnny was right: Mark was a good flatmate and you got along. Other than having questionable attempts in the kitchen, letting his sweaty stuff go for too long sometimes before doing the laundry and occasionally leaving his stuff wherever, you had no complaints. Being seniors and having other things to do (mainly basketball for him and work for you), you didn't interact more than necessary but didn't awkwardly avoid each other either when you ran into each other in the common areas. Instead you used those chances to catch up.

Since Mark was a creative writing major with a music minor and had been in his very last semester the same as you, you both complained about how many assignments they had made you do. If you had to write another English essay about the difference between the USA's and UK’s political system apart from working on your thesis, you would surely throw a fit. But it’s not like you had a choice, so you wanted to start off your morning with something warm to keep you awake through it. However, you didn’t calculate with Mark being in the kitchen, trying to cook. Emphasis on trying because whatever he was making, it didn’t look half decent.

“What’s this supposed to be?” you found yourself asking after setting up the machine and seeing the egg white smeared in the pan, its edges were already burnt while the middle was watery. Mark in his oversized white tee, face still wrinkled by the pillow, sleep in his eyes, turned to you, confused.

“Sunny side up,” he claimed but even his voice had some uncertainty.

“Nah, that’s not it. That’s disrespect for sunny side ups,” you remarked with a smile hiding in the corner of your mouth and crunching down to find another clean pan and some eggs to demonstrate how it should be done. “I don’t know how you managed to make it stick there but you need to add a bit of oil first. Then wait until the oil gets warm but not too hot, so keep the heat low, and then you can put the egg there. When breaking the egg, be careful not to hurt the yellow part. Like this, see? Then you just wait until the white is set.”

Mark looked at you after your totally normal looking sunny side up as if you were a Michelin star restaurant chef and the sparkles in his eyes and his enthusiasm to try it himself were both endearing. Somehow he still managed to mess up his first two attempts but his third was definitely decent at which he got so proud he snapped a picture for his mother.

“You know if you wanna try making new things in the kitchen, you could just let me know and I’d gladly help. I like cooking, so it’s no bother,” you told him while you finished the eggs as your breakfast (Mark insisting that you should only eat the ‘pretty’ ones). Mark sheepishly agreed and kitchen adventures became the first official flatmate thing you share.

The next thing was the movie nights.

It turned out neither of you went home for the autumn break to be able to work on your thesis properly and Mark had basketball practice too but before you could go crazy because of the amount of academic articles you had to read, you needed some time to forget about schoolwork. The boy must have felt similarly because one night, tired already, he asked if you wanted to watch something and that something ended up being the one of the Spider-man franchise installments at which Mark got so emotional he had to sniffle into a tissue.

"It's just so unfair. Why do good, innocent people have to suffer?" he asked you as if you could have ever answered such a philosophical question. Instead, you just offered him some leftover popcorn and Mark seemed relieved enough (or maybe it was his unstable emotional state) to take it with a small, embarrassed smile. It was actually cute that he didn't try to put on a front, acting all cool and manly as if he wasn't touched (heartbroken) by the scene, you liked that he was so open and sincere. Maybe that was why anxiety wasn't eating you up when you felt tearing up a bit later too. You just knew Mark wouldn't tease you with it, you could really be yourself around him. Just as he was his usual self with out of blue thoughts voiced out when the credits finally rolled.

"If you could have a superpower what kind would you want and how would you use it?" he blurted out and it was such a Mark-like question, random and funny, but deep if you really thought about it. So you gave it a thought now because you never really wondered before. You ended up saying something that hopefully would help with your constant overthinking.

"It would be nice to have a hunch whether I would regret a decision I'm about to make. So maybe a 6th sense about the future. What about you?"

"Oh man, I like that one! It's cool!" The boy shot a smile at you when you turned to him, clearly glad that you indulged him with a proper answer. "If I were to have a super power, I would want to see through walls and other objects. It could come in handy to avoid awkward situations or possibly dangerous situations. I mean my eyesight is pretty bad, it would definitely help though," he chuckled and you joined in but mostly because his laugh was so addictive.

After that you kept asking each other if the other wanted to join for a movie whenever one of you was free and somehow you ended up watching either Marvel movies or those thought-provoking drama ones over the weeks.

To be fair, Johnny warned you. You just thought he was joking, just to annoy you. Apparently no, because Mark Lee was indeed playing the guitar shirtless in your living room.

“Sometimes he picks up his guitar and just plays it half-naked,” Johnny had said once and since it had already been weeks since you had shared a living space with Mark without seeing him like that, you had waved it off as a silly joke but Mark just had to prove you wrong.

He looked like he just woken up, his hair was still like a bird's nest and he only had sweatpants on. He had his guitar on his lap and his phone in front of him on the coffee table as he was humming along while playing. He definitely didn't do it on purpose, he probably didn't expect you to be back from your morning lecture so quickly but it was canceled last-minute, so you had to go back if you didn't want to spend hours in the library until your next class.

So there you were, back in the apartment, standing awkwardly in the hallway before reminding yourself to snap out of it. Staring at him was just so rude and so shallow, not to mention it wasn't like you hadn't seen guys shirtless before, it was just surprising because you had only seen him stroll around the apartment in oversized shirts and hoodies. No big deal, really, so you shouldn't have turned it into one.

"Hey," you cleared your throat, getting the boy's attention. "Class got canceled, so I made my return trip worth it," you said, putting down a cup of his to-go coffee from your favorite store on the campus.

"Oh, hey, uhm... thanks," Mark mumbled, visibly flustered, pulling the guitar to his chest as if it could have hidden him, or well, his embarrassment.

It didn't work but you didn't want to make him more uncomfortable, so you just shrugged, telling him that it was no problem and turned your back on him to go back to your room. Later, when you came out again, Mark was already decently dressed, supposedly going out later since he wore nice jeans and a button up over a simple tee. You didn't want to make the atmosphere awkward, not when you felt comfortable around each other in a way you wouldn't have expected from just any flatmate.

"I didn't see you play the guitar before," you commented, curious as you lifted the tea pot and refilled your mug. Sure you heard guitar playing since living together it was inevitable but you knew for a fact that Dejun from next door also played it, so you couldn’t be sure who it came from.

"Ah yeah, I got rusty lately, I need to get back into it. I can play a bit of piano too but I'm better with guitar," the boy admitted sheepishly and honestly, your not musically talented person was already impressed he could play one instrument. So since Mark seemed happy to talk about it, you inquired whether he was practicing for a class or it was just something he wanted to learn and the boy answered with so much enthusiasm! Oh gosh, he was all big movements with his arms, his face expressive as he was talking about this one prof causing most of his sleepless nights and time flew so fast, you only realized you you had to go to uni when your phone buzzed in your pocket, the calendar notification clear over your lock screen.

After that ‘incident’ you didn't catch Mark shirtless much more, mostly because he seemed slightly embarrassed and not because you had any problem with it. It was his home after all, he should have been comfortable, though now that the colder weather creeped in, it probably didn't matter that much either. But now that he knew that you didn't mind his impromptu guitar sessions, sometimes he knocked on your door just to show you something or ask your opinion about a melody he just came up with. You knew nothing about music, so you doubted you were any help but he came to you anyway and you were happy to listen.

You shouldn't have listened to him, however, when he told you beer pong against (samurai) Yuta and (vampire) Jaehyun would be fun at the Halloween party. You didn’t even know why you let him convince you to play with him (okay, it was his pout’s doing) but you were losing at an embarrassingly quick rate. Not only did you have shitty aiming skills to begin with, it didn't help that (Detective Conan) Mark who was supposed to be a good basketball player became a giggly mess with worse and worse aim with every cup of beer you two had to drink.

You had experienced it last time as well but he became very clingy when drunk, so you weren’t exactly surprised how he draped himself over your back, chin on your shoulder just to be able to watch the game in a more comfy position, only to whine at every hit his friends had made. You felt a bit buzzed from the cheap beer by the time Jaehyun and Yuta finished off all of your cups but you weren’t competitive enough to get frustrated over losing a game like this, not even if the guys teased you that they barely got anything to drink with how many shoots you and Mark missed. Your flatmate whined, high-pitched, and you had to admit it was cute how his hyungs babied him even if it was just a ruffle of hair. Small affections like this seemed to make Mark seek more warmth and comfort, cuddling on the couch with his friends just as you excused yourself to find your own friends.

“Hey, girl, where have you been?” Jungeun pulled you into a hug immediately, cheery, loud enough to hear above the music.

“Sorry, I’ve been swept by Mark’s friends, playing beer pong,” you explained, not paying attention to the knowing look the blonde girl exchanged with Jinsook next to her.

“I thought you don’t like beer pong.”

“I don’t, it’s a silly drinking game,” you shook your head but you had to admit, you had fun with the boys. Not necessarily because of the game itself or the alcohol but their company was amusing enough to make up for your dislike towards the silly rules. So maybe Mark was right and you had a good time but before your friends could have interrogated you more about it, you bombarded them with questions and the conversation shifted towards this flirty guy at Jungeun’s dance class and Jinsook’s troubles with her terrible thesis advisor.

After a dozen songs you danced to with the girls and your throat started hurting from trying to speak over the music, it was late enough for you to call it a day and you said bye to the girls. When you checked your phone, you found a bunch of random texts with million typos from Mark and a video of him saying sorry to a door frame after bumping into it as courtesy of Johnny. You laughed hard even though it wasn’t that funny and you decided to look for Mark, but in the end it was him finding you.

“Look, look, look, my tongue turned blue,” the boy stuck his indeed discolored tongue out like a child first licking a colorful lollipop and you raised a brow at him, suspicious.

“What are you drinking?” you pointed at the cup in his hands that held a dark drink and Mark’s smile was innocent as he furrowed his brows, trying to remember.

“I dunno. Hyuck gave it to me saying that it’s blueberry juice.”

Gosh, no wonder his friends liked to tease him so much, he was just so gullible he made it easy for them.

“It's definitely not blueberry juice, buddy,” you snorted, amused because Mark with his tongue poking out, eyes wide full of wonder and dreamy smile was rather cute. Or maybe it was just tipsy you’s thinking.

“Don't call me that,” the boy snapped but it wasn’t harsh at all. Instead, there it was again, his pout and big doe eyes looking at you until you didn’t give in. You sighed quietly because you really couldn’t be mad at him, his actions were way too endearing.

“Okay, Mark, what about heading home?” No response. You tried again. “Markie…”

Mark’s face lit up like Christmas lights, his smile splitting his face in too as he nodded, following you outside of the building. He was telling you a story about the basketball tournaments with much enthusiasm but the moment he spotted a stranger walking their dog, he got super distracted and by the time you got on the bus he was insisting to call his friend Chenle and ask about Daegal. You didn’t know the people in question but they probably wouldn’t have appreciated a call at 3AM, so you bribed Mark into calling them later with the promise of scrambled eggs and soup in the morning. Tiredness must have suddenly hit around that point because you were in the middle of reminding Mark about the trash he needed to take out when the next thing you knew was his head over your shoulder, his light snoring making you smile.

You let the boy sleep one stop more than you should have, so you got off the bus a bit late and had to walk back to your apartment complex. Mark didn’t seem to mind though as he suddenly had enough energy to play basketball.

“Pleeeease, just 5 minutes,” he was there again with those pleading eyes and gosh, you should have really learned to say no to him but five minutes wouldn’t hurt, he was about to get tired soon anyway.

“Fine, 5 minutes. But then I’m leaving you here,” you warned him before following him to the public basketball field you walked past on your way.

Sitting on the bench by the side you realized that you haven’t seen Mark play before despite living together for two months because it never occurred to you to visit his matches. You usually knew when they were because he usually told you when he would be back late. So you knew close to nothing about the sport, you found it impressive that he didn’t trip on his own foot this time. Not to mention, it was pretty cute that he kept checking if you were still there, paying attention. No wonder he had to act extra when you let him know that he only had 30 seconds left.

“This is for you, flatmate!” Mark yelled and at his next shoot he totally missed the basket and hit the backboard instead. You couldn't help but chuckle because he had been so confident and now he was pouting. On the way back to the apartment he kept telling you that he was better when he was sober and you believed him since you had no reason not to.

You felt the boy’s eyes on you while you juggled your keys out of your purse and opened the door for you, not moving until you pulled him inside.

“Cuute~” he cooed at you as he tugged on your Hufflepuff scarf and suddenly, you didn’t know what to say but apparently Mark didn’t expect you too because he had already turned his back to you, walking towards his room.

“Don’t get on your bed like that, you have beer stains on your shirt!” you called after him, not sure if he took it seriously before shutting yourself in your room with a sigh. Yet, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face.

Mark might have been childish and reckless when he drank more than he should have but overall, he was a pretty dependable guy. He never forgot when it was his turn to get the groceries or clean. He was considerate of your sleep schedule even if his was crazy sometimes. He got you your favorite green tea even if he hated it and complained about it smelling like grass. Not to mention, he was there for you when you fell sick at the worst possible time. Two weeks until your thesis deadline and fever decided to hit then. You were a shivering, aching mess, barely having enough energy to go out to the bathroom and Mark, the sweetheart he was, made sure to refill your tea and water mugs in the room, setting up the humidifier in the morning and he even offered to make you some easily digestible food.

“Please, don’t burn the kitchen down,” you pleaded, tired but with a weak smile.

“It’s just soup,” Mark huffed out, taking no offense as he disappeared off to cook. While he was away, you must have dozed off because he was back way too quick and the air was already filled with delicious smells.

“Eat up. I promise you’ll feel better if you don’t sleep on an empty stomach,” Mark spoke up, patiently waiting for you to sit up before giving you the tray with the bowl and a spoon. You tentatively ate a spoonful of the hot soup, painfully aware of the boy’s eyes on you. When you gulped and reached for another spoonful, Mark leaned closer, his doe eyes wide while watching your expression. “Is it good?”

He sounded nervous and you felt like chuckling..

“So good,” you admitted, letting the soup’s warmth spread all over.

“Thank god, I followed Jaemin’s foolproof recipe step-by-step,” Mark let out a relieved sigh and probably because you were sleep-deprived, tired and sensitive, you felt tearing up. Last night when you struggled through hours alone, not wanting to wake him, you felt really weak and alone but now there he was, caring for you. You didn’t expect him to, he offered willingly and it made you feel touched.

You ate the soup diligently and followed Mark’s advice on trying to get some actual sleep afterwards. Your limbs and head still hurt, so it wasn’t easy but you didn’t wake up shaking and shivering this time. Your fever went down or so it seemed but you felt sticky and gross all over, so you took a shower and tried to make yourself look presentable even if Mark had seen you much worse before knocking on his door.

“Hey.” His smile was so soft, so caring as he turned to you right away. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better,” you shot him a shy, grateful smile. “I just wanted to thank you and ask if we have more of that soup.”

“Oh yeah, I’ll bring some–” Mark stumbled onto his feet no matter how much you protested that you could do it on your own if he just told you where he put it.

You followed him to the kitchen despite his objections and there, you suddenly understood why he didn’t want you there. The kitchen counter was a mess, the sink had a cooking pot with burnt marks on the bottom in it

“I didn’t want to wake you up by cleaning up,” the boy scratched the back of his neck sheepishly and even though you normally disliked messes like this, it was different. He was considerate and sweet, trying his best instead of ordering in even if cooking wasn’t his forte, you appreciated it a lot.

“It’s okay,” you smiled and heated up some more of the soup before settling by the dining table with two blankets over your shoulders while Mark put the kitchen back into its original shape. You almost finished with your bowl, swallowing down each tasty bit of it by the time he sat across you, a smile tugging on his mouth.

“So cute,” he blurted out when he saw you all bundled up and his words could have been teasing yet they sounded fonder than anything else. If you felt heat rising up in your cheeks, you blamed it on the fever.

“Not cute, I’m still sick,” you whined but you could hardly blame the way your heart skipped a beat on your sickness when Mark reached over the table to put his hand over your forehead in order to check your fever. Maybe you should have got that checked out though, just in case.

After recovering, you spent the following two weeks worrying about every single thing in your thesis – like what if someone will excuse you of plagiarism because of a weirdly worded phrase, what if the formatting is totally off and you will end up losing way too many points or what if the judge will simply dislike your topic and evaluate it negatively? – but once you handed it in, there was no way back and you refused to even think about it until you had the results. Mark finished up pretty last minute (but with two majors, it was still impressive that he didn’t faint out of fatigue at one point) but once both of you had this rock off your chests, you celebrated with ice cream. Eating it out of the tub on the living room couch made you nostalgic.

“Do you ever wonder if things will change after graduation? Like you know, the big adult life… Sometimes it just scares me. I still feel like a kid not knowing a thing,” you spoke up, not ashamed to talk about such things in front of Mark. You knew he would have never judged you for thinking in a certain way.

“Really? But you look… so well put together, like ,you know, someone who has their shit together, knows what they want and stuff,” the boy gaped at you, surprised at which you let out a small, embarrassed sound which made him continue. “But yeah, I get that, man. Like I might pay for my own stuff but still. I don’t want to grow up yet.”

Being young adults in your early twenties there were so many expectations thrown at you by family, friends and society, it was almost impossible to meet them all. It was nice that someone else understood it, your concerns but not in the YOLO kind of way but he actually took it seriously. He encouraged you when you told him about your worries about regretting your choice of major later on, and how you felt about the job market. In exchange, he told you how afraid he was drifting apart with his friends after college won’t give them a reason to meet up frequently. Or that he would miss playing basketball once he wouldn’t be part of the team.

“Maybe that’s why I’m so nervous about the game on Friday. Honestly, I don’t even care if we win or lose, I just want to give it my all and have fun. It will be my last time with the whole team after all,” he confessed, mixing the melted ice cream with his spoon.

You were sure nobody would stop him from going back to practices since all of the guys seem to adore him. You had seen that buff guy, Jeno, get flustered when Mark had bought him pain relief patches. Or how that tall freshman, Sungchan, went all ‘hyung, you didn’t have to’ when Mark treated him to a meal in-between classes. Mark really cared so much about the people around him and he probably didn’t even notice but you were sure everyone would miss his presence. You sure would. So you told him all that, determined to reassure the boy but you just ended up getting flustered yourself as you watched his ears burn red.

“Khm… actually I wanted to ask you if you would like to come to the game? You know, to show you that I can actually play,” Mark laughed awkwardly and even though you had never really been the sports kind of person, after that drunken mishap of his on Halloween you were actually curious about how he was on the field. Plus you would have never said no to an invitation to the season’s last game which was so important for him.

“Sure. Should I do anything special? You know those war marks on cheeks or something like that? I don’t know how basketball games work around here and I don’t think I have anything in the uni’s colors,” you admitted and you were ready to ask Yuqi what she usually wore in case Mark wasn’t helpful and said whatever or ‘you don’t have’ but he did none of that.

“I mean, you can wear my extra jersey,” he blurted out the offer and even though it was supposed to be nonchalant based on his casual tone, the way he avoided your eyes made it endearing.

“Okay,” you answered softly and Mark’s eyes widened as he looked up at you in disbelief.

“Okay?? I mean, yeah, okay, cool,” he muttered, stuffing his face with more melted ice cream and you could barely suppress your smile, heart beating as if you just ran after the bus.

You weren't exactly sure when this thing between the two of you started shifting. Or maybe it was just your perspective but lately you had been catching yourself noticing things about Mark you haven’t before. Like those adorable moles on his cheek and neck, the way he squinted sometimes even with his glasses on, that crooked smile of his when he found something amusing or that he always wore hoodies so big, the sleeves were too long even for him. You got fond of ridiculously mundane things like him slipping into English mid-sentence, slapping people around him when he laughed so hard or that he just couldn’t shut up during movies. The number of things he did that made your heart flutter became alarmingly high as well when he started covering you with blankets or his sweaters during movie nights, letting you fall asleep on his shoulder in the living room and instead of waking you up, he suffered a neck pain the next day without complaint or singing you songs as lullaby when you couldn’t sleep. Add giving you his freshly washed jersey to the list as well.

Yuqi was the first one to point it out as you were getting ready for the basketball match. She helped you style the jersey, tucking it inside black jeans and making a high ponytail out of your hair to show off the Mark 02 written on the back.

“Do you like him?” The girl asked, straightforward as always and you blamed the yelp you let out on a particularly harsh movement of the hair brush.

“I… is it that obvious?” you asked, bashful, because you felt like it was useless to deny in front of Yuqi. She snorted, raising an eyebrow before grabbing an eyeliner off the table, ready to attack you.

“You do realize only you find even his dumb jokes funny, right?”

“What, why? He’s hilarious!” you protested, really thinking so, and the girl laughed as if she just proved a point.

“Don’t worry, it’s cute,” she reassured you and before you could have asked what was so cute, your crush? she ordered you to close your eyes and let her work her magic.

So you did, feeling blush creeping on your cheeks under the thin layer of foundation she applied. Smokey eye shadow, pink lip gloss and lilac-gold lines over your cheeks later, Yuqi said you looked so good Mark would be stupid to not feel lucky. Honestly, you weren’t so sure about that since you knew Mark didn’t care about looks that much and actually it wasn’t your appearance that made you feel uncertain around him. It’s just… he was so casual and friendly with everyone, you weren’t sure whether he would have acted like this around every girl he ended up living with or you were a tiny bit special and you didn’t want things to become awkward between you two if you misread the signs and he didn’t feel the same. It could have made living together very uncomfortable.

An hour later you arrived at the basketball field of the campus and feeling a little out of place, you just followed Yuqi and joined some other friends in the standee area. You tried not to feel all too conscious of the eyes on you, or rather on the shirt you wore, and just hollered when the Eagles made their way onto the field and the game was starting.

It was crazy, the buzzing adrenaline of everyone around you, the way people grunted together in disappointment or cheered in unison when a team scored a point. You still didn’t really get the rules or why certain shoots meant more points than others but you had fun. And of course, you couldn’t stop looking for Mark among all the players, being impressed by how fast he moved and how precise his shots were. He was indeed better than that one time you saw him play drunk. You got so invested that you couldn’t stop screaming, encouraging the boys towards the end of the game. You jumped into Yuqi’s arms, hugging her for dear life when Chenle scored the winning goal, everyone attacking the freshman (with hugs and love) on the field.

The players were quickly ushered to the changing room, so you had no chance to talk with Mark but since basically everyone from your university in the audience ended up at Jaehyun’s for the after party, you believed you had a good chance to do so there. But before you bumped into Mark, you managed to run into Ten instead. The Thai guy was one of Johnny's best friends and then he was giving you such a knowing look that you couldn’t help but feel self-conscious under his gaze.

“Sooo did Mark finally tell you?” he raised a brow, sipping on his suspiciously orange-looking drink as he pointed at your outfit.

“Uhm, tell me what?” you muttered, dumbfounded and Ten just laughed, waving it off.

“Nothing then. Have fun!” he winked and walked away with such a shit-eating grin that left you even more confused. He was barely out of sight when Mark showed up by your side.

“What did Ten hyung want?” he asked, visibly concerned, which was the last thing you wanted him to do. He should have been happy, celebrating, because from what you had seen he gave his all for his last match with this team just like how he wanted to do.

“I don’t even know to be honest,” you let out a laugh, turning towards the boy by your side and you took in his look with the ripped jeans and the turtleneck. Gosh, even his hair was fluffy because he must have washed it after the match. It was a good look on him, soft but mature. Mark was looking at you with similar awe in his eyes, a smile tugging on his mouth.

“You really came.”

“I told you I would,” you reminded him with a kind smile. Then you remembered that you wanted him to know that you appreciated the match too and that you found his basketball skills impressive, so you added: “You were really good back there.”

“Thanks,” he smiled sheepishly and cleared his throat. “You look pretty. I mean… you look pretty in general, it’s just… you look different.”

It wasn’t like you never had received a compliment from the boy because he had this habit of calling every living and breathing creature cute but it was different, you could tell he didn’t mean to play it off coolly either.

“Thanks, it’s all Yuqi’s doing,” you admitted with a chuckle, fighting the heat in your cheeks before Mark asked if you wanted to dance maybe. You didn’t even hesitate before agreeing and followed him to the dance floor, not caring about the mainstream music or the stares you two got, not when Mark giggled into your ear when he almost tripped in his own foot because someone elbowed him in the side.

Mark and you spent almost the entire party together after that, just dancing and talking out on the balcony with your drinks in hand, or playing classic card games with friends. By the time the party died down and it was time to leave, both of you were still pretty much sober, so the walk back home promised less chaos than the ones before.

It was a chilly December night, big coats, scarves and beanies on both of you but you were still cold, damn those gloves you forgot to put on! You blew warm air onto your palms, rubbing them together to keep them warmer and the movement caught Mark’s attention. He didn’t wear gloves either but he didn’t even hesitate reaching for your hand and still holding it, shoving it inside his puffy coat’s pocket together with his.

“Better?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, breath caught in your throat, heart overworking.

Hand holding or not, you decided it wasn't the right time to tell Mark how you felt, this was no time for extra pressure. You both still had final exams to prepare for and you knew he would go home for the holidays. You could tell him after that.

Before Mark left for the winter break, you made him his favorite meal and gave him the personalized guitar pick with his name and basketball jersey number on it as a Christmas gift. It was barely anything yet he thanked you dozens of times and hugged you as if he didn't want to let go.

You visited home for the festive days too but because of your internship you were back in the capital in no time. Mark stayed home longer, texting you throughout the days about the most random things (how his mom made him eat so much, his brother’s nagging or the shows he watched with his dad) but the apartment was so empty without him. One day you ended up inviting Sohyun over for lunch and as a package deal, Johnny came, too. It turned out very unfortunate for you because out of all the people out there, he was the one person you couldn’t fool when he pointed at what you wore.

“Isn’t that Mark’s plaid shirt?” his lips curled upwards as he asked, mouth in an annoyingly knowing smirk.

You could have said that it got mixed during laundry but that still wouldn’t have explained why you actually wore it when it was a bit big on your frame. Honestly, you just got so used to Mark covering you with his clothes, it felt almost natural picking it up from the couch where he had left it and putting it on when you got cold earlier.

“And aren’t you hungry? Then stop asking unnecessary questions,” you snickered which made your friends laugh and tease but you knew they didn’t mean anything bad about it. They cooed when you got a text from Mark that made you all smiley. Johnny even prided himself in being a great matchmaker which was a pretty far stretch but you just rolled your eyes at his antics. Maybe you wished he was right, too.

It was a few days into January when Mark got back. There were snowflakes in parts of his hair that weren't under his beanie but his smile was warm as he complained about the cold. You offered to heat some dinner up for him while he unpacked and could barely contain the feelings spreading all over you as he claimed that 'you are the best'. So you put some pasta you made earlier into the microwave and set the table, waiting for Mark. When he got back to the kitchen, he told you all about his holiday and his ride back over his dinner as if he hadn’t texted every hour but you appreciated it, so in exchange you told him about your days and how the internship place offered you a long-term position. Things had started falling into place despite the uncertainties and doubts you still had but it was natural, you were still young, you didn’t have to have it all figured out.

After dinner, you were about to suggest a movie but Mark beat you to it.

“I know it’s late, but actually I brought you a present,” he spoke up suddenly, sounding nervous as he tilted his head towards his room. It already made your heart beat like a drum.

“Oh come on, you didn’t have to just because I–” you protested but still followed the boy into his room.

“I wanted to,” Mark interrupted you gently and handed over a clumsily home-wrapped (so cute!) box he pulled out of his suitcase. You took it curiously and started unwrapping it carefully. The box revealed your favourite brand of chocolate and an old-fashioned cassette with your name written on it with a marker. You suddenly remembered watching an old movie from the 90s when you had told Mark how lovely you found the idea of mixtapes on cassettes because of the effort put into them, but you didn’t think he would remember that.

“I don't even have a cassette player,” you said dumbly, not knowing how to react suddenly and at that Mark let out an awkward little chuckle.

“Oh right, I was supposed to share the Soundcloud link with you,” he realized and after a few clicks on his phone you felt yours buzz in your pocket. “You told me you like to listen to me singing, so I thought I could record these for you to listen to if you, you know, wanna hear some but I can’t be there.”

His explanation was just so him, so lovely, just as the caption of the track he shared with you – songs that remind me of you. You might have been oblivious and uncertain when it came to Mark Lee, everyone’s best friend at college, but there was nothing platonic in the way he patted the bed beside him to get you to sit down and once you did, he put earbuds in for you to listen to the mix of English and Korean love songs he sang in his soft, airy voice. Your heart was struggling against your ribcage as he filled all your senses: his voice singing, his eyes on you, his warm closeness…

The playlist ended with an embarrassed giggle, so Mark-like it made you smile right away. You were glad he didn’t edit it out because it made it more real, more special because of how not staged it was. You wanted to say so much and ask even more but looking into the boy’s eyes, you suddenly couldn’t form any word. It felt like you were in a sweet little bubble in his room and for a moment you wondered whether you were dreaming, dreaming about Mark coming back home, to you, looking at you like that. But it wasn’t a dream.

“It’s… I love it, so much,” you pressed quietly but genuinely. You were afraid you would break this bubble if you said more, or if you spoke louder. You just wanted to stay there, so close your knees bumped into each other.

“I’m glad,” Mark said back in a hush, a chuckle hanging off his lips, words tasting delicate with anticipation.

There was serendipity in the silence that followed. It was in the way Mark’s doe eyes blinked slowly, the way you inhaled sharply or the way he tilted his head, leaning closer ever so slowly. Your eyes fluttered closed right before his lips touched yours for a chaste but heart-shaking moment. It was short but offered enough of a reassurance, just as much as his searching gaze when you opened your eyes slowly after he pulled back a bit.

“Mark…” you whispered, his name tasting like something sweet on your tongue and for a moment, the boy looked distracted. At your voice, he blinked.

“Hm?”

You looked deep into his warm brown eyes, serious before you let your lips curl up.

“No more dude-zoning, okay?” you asked, half-sincere, half-a-joke, and Mark laughed so hard, he almost fell over and out of the bed. It was the kind of sound you wanted to hear so much more often. Even more so, you wanted to make it happen: to make Mark happy.

“Okay,” he promised, breathless, and sealed it with another kiss on your lips, his hand finding rest over your nape. You smiled into it, content.

“Mom, come on, we will be late,” Mark whined as he tugged on his robe, squinting against the sunlight.

“Just one more. Stand closer,” the woman instructed and gestured for you to step closer to Mark and you giggled as you pressed up against your boyfriend’s side, a blushing creeping onto your cheeks even now at the public display of affection.

Neither of you with Mark were big fans of PDA, liking to keep your relationship mostly private save for hand holding whenever you had a chance to do so but your friends kept pushing you, teasing you, saying that they did not believe that ‘you finally came to your senses and got together’, their words not yours. Johnny definitely claimed credit as the main matchmaker but Yuqi kept arguing over it. You didn’t mind, it only showed that they cared and were supportive and only that mattered.

“Perfect!” Mark’s mother exclaimed with a proud smile as she looked down at the photo she just made. Her husband reminded her that all of you had to get back to the hall for the actual graduation ceremony before you would miss the point of it all but you couldn’t mind the woman’s enthusiasm at all as she pulled you into a half-hug as she showed you the picture. She had been the sweetest from the moment you were introduced as her son’s girlfriend. (‘Actually I had a feeling. He was glued to his phone all winter break,’ she shared with you with a smile that made you feel welcomed like a partner-in-crime.)

You waved at your own family who already took their seats and laughed at the tissues your mother prepared as your sister pointed out jokingly. Then suddenly you were surrounded by friends from your grade, excitement clear on all your faces.

“Let’s get it,” Mark hollered beside you as everyone was ushered into the big hall.

The graduation ceremony might have sounded boring but it was the end of an era and you were all so ready for the next one. You were a bit scared, yes, but that was okay, as long as you had good people around you nothing could go too wrong and looking around – at Guanheng and Dejun making funny faces for selfies, Wooyoung pulling on the tassel of Jungeun’s cap, Mina trying to shush everyone before the dean would do so and Mark staring back at you with a fond smile – you knew you were in good hands.

I NEED HELP !!!

Around 4 years ago I began reading a soukoku fic that was based on the movie your name, sadly I closed the window in which I was reading it 🥲and I have not been able to find it ever since.

If anyone has any clues, please help this soul

Please soukoku community, I believe in you 😭

---

❝ 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

☁︎- Angst  ♣︎ - Fluff  ☀︎- Mature Themes  ♥- Personal Favorite  ✉- Requested

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It Always Leads To You

( bllk boys as situationships )

a/n — girl whose never had a situationship writing about them? what could go wrong? (they progressively get longer lol)

content — some nsfw but not explicit, pining, GN! reader, some characters repeated, all characters are 18 or 18+

synopsis — what kind of situationship the bllk boys would be

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' and the heart i'm breaking is my own ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' but you're best friends! '

you'd rather spend money on a hotel than stay at home 24/7 for the next week. how could you walk into your house when you knew he'd be there, chatting with you family as if nothing had changed?

maybe you should've pretended you had to work.

that would have saved you the grief of having to see, who was supposed to be, your best friend. how could you face him when the last thing you two talked about was being a couple and that...not going as planned.

well, maybe that wasn't the last thing you two talked about with each other. however, does defiling your families bathroom really count as 'talking'? ( most awkward easter ever afterwards ) you didn't really think so.

whatever, he was a pro-soccer player now, he may not even be at home this christmas. you'd just have to put up with his family, who you'd always loved, and then you could go home and avoid the situation until the next big holiday.

but of course, when you stepped into your childhood home you realized that you'd never get that lucky. there he was, just as handsome as ever, sitting on your families couch.

in your eyes, he looked like he belonged with your family more than you, but you supposed he earned that. he came home every holiday, unlike you who continuously came up with different reasons to stay as far away as possible.

if you left now, maybe no one would know you'd even shown up-

" woah, y/n! it's you! " or...maybe not. " i haven't seen you in forever, what have you been up to? " the voice that plagued your every waking thought crashed its way into your ears.

your best friend ( could you even call him that anymore? were you still his best friend? ) got up from his spot on the couch to come wrap his arms around you in a hug that felt more like home than home did.

" i've missed you, ya know? " he whispered in your ear, hands caressing your back in what felt like much more than what a 'friends' hug would be.

just a week. you could survive and coexist with him for a week. your resolve to never sleep with him set in stone now.

you just wished your resolve wouldn't have crumbled only two days later while your family was downstairs watching christmas movies.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ REO MIKAGE, isagi yoichi, AIKU OLIVER, rensuke kunigami, TOBITO KARASU

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the ' you cannot date them '

you’re a good person... or at least, you want to believe that. But how can you when your best friend sits in front of you now, talking about their ex?

she’s raving about how much she misses him, how everything fell apart at the worst time, how she’s still holding onto the hope that maybe they can fix things.

you try to smile and nod, pretending that you’re not dying inside. how can you even look her in the eye when he’s blowing up your phone right now? when you know exactly how he feels about you?

“it’s just so messed up, right?” she laughs nervously, like this is all just a bad breakup, nothing that can’t be smoothed over. “i’m not even sure what I’m supposed to do anymore.”

she doesn’t know that you already did something. You already did the one thing that could ruin everything. the one thing that she told you you could never do.

your phone continuously buzzing while she's talking, hoping she wouldn't notice you reach for it to silence it while she takes a sip of her drink.

your phone vibrates again, and you try not to look at it. you’re not sure if you’re worried that she’ll see, or that you’ll see what he’s saying. you’re scared of both.

him <3 ; are we still on for tonight? can’t wait to see you.

that familiar ache forms in your chest, and you can feel the betrayal to your friend, the confusion about your own feelings, but worse—there’s nothing you can do about it. you keep smiling, even though it feels like your heart’s sinking with every word your friend says.

" god, if you don't want to listen to me, just say so. " your friend says coldly. " i would have turned off my phone if it was you crying right now. "

" sorry, it's just my mom...talking about some new present she wants to get my brother. " you apologized. "oh, okay. is your brother a cutie?" you didn't even have a brother, showed how much she knew about you.

“whatever, what should i do?" your friend asks, her eyes bright with hope (or maybe delusion). "do you think I should text him? do you think we could still fix things?”

you want so badly to tell her the truth.

you want to be honest, to say what she needs to hear so that she doesn’t get her hopes up.

you want to tell her that he is already texting you, that maybe you are the reason he won’t talk to her.

but instead, you bite your lip and offer a shrug. "i don't know, honestly. maybe he needs time to figure out what he wants too."

"he doesn't need time. he needs me." she mused, staring at you like your answer was just the stupidest thing she'd heard all day. "no wonder you've never dated anyone, who'd like a ditz like you?"

The whole time, your phone is buzzing, buzzing, buzzing, like a constant reminder of your lie.

you; see you tonight :)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ OTOYA EITA, ikki niko, RANZE KURONA, reo mikage, RYUSEI SHIDO

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧the... ' you'll never be first '

he's leaving soon, and you feel like you're dying.

you’d known for a long time that ‘casually’ seeing a pro soccer player would only lead to being left alone, especially someone like him—someone whose work always came first, and whose heart was as unreachable as the trophies he collected.

he’d said it more times than you could count: “love doesn’t come before soccer. It never will.” and you’d laughed, maybe even agreed at some point, understanding it was just the way things were.

so why does it feel like you’re drowning now, with him leaving just around the corner.

it doesn’t make sense. you’d known the deal from the start.

still, here you are—sitting in his bed, in the quiet of his room, the familiar hum of the city outside reminding you of how little time you really have left with him.

his suitcase is by the door, already half-packed, his jersey draped over the chair where he’d left it, as if he couldn't get out of here fast enough.

you’re almost sick to your stomach at the thought of him walking out that door in just a few days, never looking back.

you’ve spent enough time with him to know that when he leaves, he doesn’t look back. he doesn't look back at stadiums once he walks out, and he wouldn't look back at you either.

"it’s only a few months," he’d said, trying to make you feel better when the topic of him leaving first got brought up. “i’ll be back before you know it.”

but that’s not the point.

it’s never been the point.

you know he’ll be busy with games, traveling, sponsors,...women, all the things that make him too far to reach.

and yet, here you are, sitting in his bed, heart pounding, overwhelmed with the thought of it all ending. you thought you could handle this.

you thought you could be just another notch in his belt. but the truth is, you’ve been fooling yourself. you care too much. you’ve fallen for him, hard, and the worst part is—he doesn’t even realize it.

or maybe he does. maybe he’s known all along, and you were too scared to admit it.

the sound of his voice pulls you from your thoughts.

"hey, you okay?"

you glance over at him, watching him fiddle with his phone, one hand propped up on the headboard. his eyes meet yours, something in them that almost makes you believe he could stay. maybe, you're enough of a reason for him to stay where he is now.

but he won’t. you know that. his life is bigger than you. bigger than this city, this bed, and every memory you’ve shared together.

you nod, forcing a smile, trying to keep the strange bitterness from slipping into your voice.

"yeah, just thinking."

"don’t think too much." his lips curl up into that calming grin that’s made you feel better on several occasions. how could something that used to calm you make you feel like your heart was in your throat? “you’ll drive yourself crazy.”

it’s easy for him to say that. he’s used to moving on. he’s used to leaving. you? you're used to him being here.

his fingers tap absently against the screen of his phone. you can see the notifications lighting up—his agent, a few teammates, probably his parents, all reminding you of the inevitable: he’s leaving soon.

you want to scream. you want to ask him why he doesn’t care. why it’s so easy for him to slip away from everyone who loves him.

but instead, you pull your knees to your chest and keep your eyes fixed on him, as if the longer you look, you could magically gain telepathy to make him want to stay with you.

"how’s your flight looking?" you ask, hoping his answer would be that he cancelled it.

"all set."

and you can't breathe.

the casualness in his voice is what stings the most. the way he talks about leaving as if it’s just another day at the office, another game to be played.

he doesn’t get how you feel. maybe he can’t. maybe he’s just too busy not feeling anything.

The silence is deafening.

"do you... do you ever wish you could just stay?"

It’s a question you didn’t mean to ask, but it escapes before you can stop it.

You wish you could take it back the second it leaves your lips.

he looks up at you, and for the briefest moment, his eyes soften. for one second, he looks like he is completely and utterly yours.

he sets his phone down, sliding it onto the bedside table, then turns his full attention to you.

"i told you, didn’t i? love doesn’t come before soccer."

The words hit you like a train, but it’s not the truth that hurts—it’s the way he says it, like it’s not up for debate. as if it’s always been this way, and it always will be.

why can't he just try? just try to come home every so often...to you.

you feel like a fool. as if you've put your heart on display for him just to not even glance your way.

you know where you stand, even if it’s tearing you apart.

he doesn’t lie to you, doesn’t promise you things he can’t give, and maybe that's why you fell for him in the first place—he was the first person who didn’t play games with you.

"i’m gonna miss you," you say quietly, knowing that admitting it aloud makes it even worse.

his eyes flicker with something, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. he shifts, pulling his knees up to match yours, as if to say he’s close, but still so far. he rests his head back against the headboard.

and for a moment, you almost forget he’s leaving. you forget about the suitcase by the door. you forget about the plane ticket he has. you forget that in just a few days he wont be yours anymore.

"i’ll miss you too," he says softly.

but that’s it. that’s all he says. it’s not a promise, not a declaration. just another passing remark to fill the silence.

he doesn't mean it. it's more of a kindness thing for him to say it back.

you can feel the weight of everything unsaid.

you realize—he doesn’t know how much you care. He can’t understand you.

he’s never been asked to stay.

you’re not even sure you’d want him to. you can’t ask him to change his life for you. and you couldn't keep up with the lifestyle he lives.

the idea of him walking away—of losing him to something bigger, to something you’ll never be able to keep—feels like it will break you.

so you just lie down on his bed, for the last time, you tell yourself.

'after tonight, he'll be free of me'

after tonight, you'd walk out that door and not look back.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ITOSHI RIN, nagi seishiro, SAE ITOSHI, isagi yoichi, RENSUKE KUNIGAMI

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' to leave the warmest bed i've ever known ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

[ + your faves ! ]

again, i've never experienced this, so i hope the research i've done (looking up different types of situationships) has done it justice!

likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated!

ass kicker

ఠ_ఠ Is it my fault

mistymark’s masterlist

key: ▶▶▶ = ongoing, ✓ = completed, all are fluff (or have fluffy endings) unless specified

NCT

series:

HIDEAWAY HOLLOW SERIES [NCT Dream] NCT AS BOYFRIENDS SERIES [NCT 2018]

the ex boyfriend interview. [NCT Dream] ↳in which you’re asked to do a video interview with your ex boyfriend surrounding your past relationship

the one with the second chance. [NCT Dream] ↳ in which you take part in a second interview with your ex. {sequel to the ex boyfriend interview series}

the one with the subway [NCT Dream Christmas special] ↳in which 12 strangers are must endure what feels like the longest train ride in history on christmas eve

Don’t Need Your Love angst series [DNYL members, excludes Hrvy lmao]

VIGILANTE/S ↳ in which you consider yourself somewhat of a vigilante. {superpowered!au}

mistakes were made [NCT Dream - Jaemin] ↳ in which you are a famous YouTuber and your fans really really like your best friend, Jaemin {script format}

group // headcanons // reactions:

rating nct series: ↳ based on what they would do if you asked them to hold your drink ↳ based on how they’d help you slash your ex’s tires ↳ based on what their tinder profiles would look like ↳ based on how they drink their milo ↳ based on how they kiss you for the first time

hugging nct dream

nct dream as classmates 

nct dream as college students ↳ nct dream as kids in my zoom classes ↳ nct dream as kids in my zoom classes (semester 2 edition)

nct dream as hogwarts students 

nct 00 line band au [NCT Dream]

00 line x private school uniforms [NCT Dream]

nct dream react to you being shipped with another member [ot6]

nct dream x spotify [00-02 line] nct 127 x spotify [OT10]

nct dream x brooklyn 99 characters

elemental!nct dream {head canons} ↳ elemental!jaemin {flirting; dot points} ↳ elemental!hyuck {flirting; dot points} ↳ elemental!jisung {headcanon} ↳ elemental!jisung and elemental!chenle {headcanons; list} frat boys!yuta and jaehyun

nct + wayv as types of friends [OT21]

spiderman!mark (these aren’t connected/part of the same story) ↳ first date + first kiss (drabble) ↳ finding out (drabble)

fake dating!00 line ↳ hyuck catching feelings ↳ kissing at a party with jaemin (drabble) ↳ being dared to kiss jaemin

the one with the homecoming date [NCT Dream] ↳ [intro] [jeno] [donghyuck] ▶▶▶

enemies to lovers!yukhei ↳ contribution

number neighbour!au with mark

uni boyfriend!jaehyun {ask}

renjun keeping art of you in his wallet {ask}

med student!yuta (idea for the one with the std)

superpowered!au ↳ enemy immortal!hyuck having a crush on you (drabble) ↳ enemy immortal!hyuck needing your help ↳ enemy immortal!hyuck needing your help part two ↳ enemy immortal!hyuck on a mission (x-men-ish) ↳ friend immortal!hyuck in the world of the dead

secret agent!jaehyun surgical intern!jaehyun

mark + swearing

Taeyong + dying his hair in ur bathroom

fake fake dating!au with fuckboy!doyoung (summary)

soulmate!au with opposites!hyuck and y/n (summary)

a fwb!au with non-specified member (fic idea)

werewolf!jeno (fic idea)

dumb prom date!chenle (summary)

individual:

《《 lee taeyong 》》

- the one with the retaliation COMING SOON!! in which taeyong likes to make y/n flustered by leaning in too close whenever they’re talking and hitting on her, but she’s decided she’s had enough {university!au}

- the one with the combat class [1] ▶▶▶ in which taeyong has been ‘just friends’ with y/n for too long and a little alcohol surely is the best way to make a move feat. doyoung {university au} {follower dictated fic}

《《 moon taeil 》》

- the one with the bowling date. DRABBLE in which you and taeil really suck at bowling.

《《 johnny seo 》》

↳ johnny would [1]

- the one with the med student ✓ in which johnny works at a coffee shop and a particular med student cares more for his health than he does {coffee shop!au} {drabble} ↳ q: did you call or text y/n? ↳ q: did you end up visiting y/n at the clinic?

- the one with the secret COMING SOON!! in which y/n is a little clingy and johnny’s a little paranoid {secret dating!au} {university!au}

- the one with the soulmates ✓ in which soulmates can hear snippets of each other’s thoughts and what the fuck is going on his head {soulmates!au} {strangers to lovers!au}

- the one with the long day. ✓ in which johnny’s had a long day and really just wants to get home to you (and sleep)

- the one with the argument. DRABBLE in which Johnny is fighting with his girlfriend and you, unfortunately, are there to witness the whole thing [angst-y] {best friends!au}

- the one in the shower. DRABBLE in which Johnny accidentally asks for nudes.

- the one with the vampire. ✓ in which johnny’s a vampire and you still kiss him. {vampire!au, duh}

- the one where you cancel your date. ✓ DRABBLE in which you’re sick but Johnny won’t let that stand in the way of your date. {short}

- the one in Paris. TIMESTAMP in which youre really tired. but youre also in Paris.

- the one with the acceptance letter. DRABBLE in which Johnny shows up on your doorstep when he gets his acceptance letter. {angst, mutual pining}

- the one with the car ride. TIMESTAMP in which you’re drunk and Johnny drives you home. 

《《 nakamoto yuta 》》

- the one with the unexpected help [1] ▶▶▶ in which a group project causes tension between y/n and her partner yuta {enemies to lovers! au} {university!au}

- the one with the step stool ✓ in which yuta and y/n are coworkers and he finds it funny that you can’t reach things on the top shelf {barista!au} {enemies to lovers!au} ↳ q: have you murdered yuta yet?

- the one with all the dates COMING SOON!! in which y/n accidentally ruined his date, so he’s gonna make sure he gets revenge for it

- the one with the motel ✓ in which 127 goes on a road trip and there aren’t enough rooms in the motel {enemies to lovers!au}

- the one with the blocked drain pipe. ✓ in which a blocked shower drain causes y/n to turn up on Yuta’s doorstep in nothing but a towel {friends w benefits!au} {neighbours!au} 

- the boyfriend one. ✓ in which yuta is a boyfriend {part of the NCT as boyfriends series}

- the one with the std [intro] [1] [2] ▶▶▶ in which yuta and y/n are pretty much arch rivals, though no one understands why; they’re just competitive in class and, now, at their work placements. easily two of the brightest students of their class, they’re both used to being number one - the only number one. but after y/n ruins one of yuta’s dates, he vows to ruin every single one she goes on, too.

- the one with the vodka. ✓ in which yuta is drunk and should go home. {or the things you said when you were drunk} {part of the 50 things you said series}

- the one with the baby. ▶▶▶ in which you’re supposed to be minding Yuta’s cousin and it doesn’t go so well. {established relationship!au} {slight angst}

《《 qian kun 》》

- the one with the prince ✓ in which kun works at Disneyland, and even without the costume looks like a prince {Disneyland!au}

《《 kim doyoung 》》

- the one with the combat class [1] ▶▶▶ in which y/n’s window looks out directly onto the grass where doyoung does his combat class feat. taeyong {university!au} {fan dictated fic}

《《 chittaphon leechaiyapornkul (ten) 》》

《《 jung yoonoh (jaehyun) 》》

- the one with the roommates [1] [2] [3] [4] [epilogue] ✓ in which jaehyun and y/n are roommates and pretending to be his fiancé seems like a really good idea {roommates!au} {fuckboy!au} {friends to lovers!au}

- the one with the diet coke bottle ✓ in which jaehyun suggests they play spin the bottle, but now everyone except him is kissing y/n {university!au}

- the one with the youtuber [INTRO] [1] [2] [3] ON HIATUS in which youtube somehow brings jaehyun and y/n together {social media au} {college au}

- the one with the apple juice ✓ in which drunk jaehyun confesses his feelings for y/n (the things you said when you were drunk) {university!au} {best friends to lovers!au}

- the one with the cover. ▶▶▶ in which jaehyun and y/n are detectives working undercover at NCT U as new recruits of the jump street program {21 jump street!au} {friends to lovers!au}

- the one with the drunken confession. ✓ in which jaehyun realises he might be in love with someone and its not the person he just broke up with {best friends to lovers!au}

- the one with the hangover. ✓ in which jaehyun made a stupid decision and wants y/n’s forgiveness {part of the 100tws project}

- the one with the power cut. ✓ in which a power cut reunites y/n and jaehyun {ex friends with benefits!au} {friends to lovers!au} {part of the 1ydp.}

- the one with the keycard. ✓ in which the heater breaks in the hotel room and y/n is really cold. like really cold. {enemies to lovers!au} {bed sharing!au} {part of the 1ydp}

- the one with the benefits. ✓ in which jaehyun is y/n’s best friend’s older brother and their relationship is… physical {smut} {drabble}

- the one with the mole. ✓ DRABBLE in which y/n betrays the agency and her partner, jaehyun, doesn’t believe it. {secret agents!au} {warning: guns and violence}

- the one with the gourmet pasta. ✓ DRABBLE in which you and jaehyun have a domestic routine, and you want to surprise him with pasta. {or: the things you said with no space between us} {part of the 50 things you said series}

- the one with the kiss in the bathroom. ✓ DRABBLE in which your brother finds out about your secret relationship with his best friend. {part of the 50 things you said series}

- the one with the rules. ✓ DRABBLE in which jaehyun is a prince and seems to be breaking all the rules. [cinderella!au]

- the one at New Years. ✓ DRABBLE in which you’d made plans to kiss Jaehyun at midnight. 

- the one at the bus stop. [part two] DRABBLE in which jaehyun doesn’t feel like he’s home. {slight angst}

《《 dong sicheng (winwin) 》》

- the one with the annotations ✓ in which sicheng works in the library and finds y/n’s notes in the books wrong hilarious {libary!au}

- cute and flirty + boyfriend!sicheng [DRABBLE]

《《 kim jungwoo 》》

《《 wong yukhei (lucas) 》》

- the one with the anonymous pen pal ✓ in which y/n and lucas write notes to each other on their desk and love just happens to be on their side (university!au)

- the one with the paint prank ✓ in which the nct u boys prank y/n’s group and she ends up striking a pitiful deal with the genius behind it (idol!reader)

- the one with the skyscraper COMING SOON!! in which lucas is always afraid he’ll lose y/n in big crowds so he grabs y/n’s hand but suddenly he starts to do it when there’s no one around and y/n is sUS {university!au}

- the one with the drunk ex. ✓ in which both y/n’s crush and ex boyfriend are at the same party {friends to lovers!au} {part of the 1ydp}

- the one with the pick up lines. ✓ in which lucas knows a bunch of pick up lines and insists on using them all {best friends to lovers!au} {part of the 1ydp}

- the one with the handprint in the wall. ✓ DRABBLE in which two handprints in a wall make you meet someone new.

- the one on FaceTime. DRABBLE in which your homework is hard but Lucas is willing to help.

《《 hendery 》》

- the boyfriend one. ✓ in which hendery is your boyfriend. (bulleted)

《《 mark lee 》》

- the one with no curtains [pt 2 angst ver.] [pt 2 fluff ver.] ✓ in which mark lives opposite y/n and always forgets to close the curtains while he’s changing {neighbour!au} [before u attack me, its pure]

- the one with all the spoilers ✓ in which y/n spends all her time with the host’s roommate instead of the birthday boy himself (the things you said when we were the only ones left) {university!au} {strangers to lovers!au}

- the one with the how to’s [intro] [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] ▶▶▶ in which y/n is a columnist and just really needs to write an article, whilst mark is an idol and just really needs a date {social media au}

- the boyfriend one. ✓ in which mark is a boyfriend {bulleted} {part of boyfriend!NCT series}

- the one with the study room. ✓ in which mark really likes to test fate with rock-paper-scissors but y/n just wants to finish this group project {group project!au}

- the one with the stagehand. ✓ in which mark really wants to impress y/n but singing is not the way to go apparently

- the one with the feelings [1] [2] ▶▶▶ in which mark and y/n have a lot of feelings but never at the same time apparently {or: the times we fought our feelings for each other and the one time we didn’t}

- the one with the internship. ✓ in which mark and y/n have to live together during an internship upon meeting but it turns out they’ve met before {university!au} {strangers to lovers!au} {part for the ‘100 things we said’ series}

- the one with the study break. ✓ in which mark is a really annoying boyfriend who just wants you to stop studying for a moment

- the one with the theatre. ✓ DRABBLE in which mark and y/n kinda hate each other but they kiss on stage anyway

- the one with ‘that friend’. ✓ DRABBLE in which mark doesn’t want to be ‘that friend’ anymore

- the one with the tattoo. ✓ in which y/n’s tattoo suddenly disappears and it might be because of the boy from the go-kart track {soulmate!au}

- the one with the water bottle. ✓ in which mark’s water bottle is not filled with water (at all) {part of the 1ydp}

- the one with the anniversary. ✓ in which mark forgets your anniversary, but its okay because so do you {angst} {part of the 1ydp}

- the one with the glass of water. ✓ 18+ in which mark is y/n’s brother’s best friend and they really need to be quiet because it’s midnight and they’re not supposed to be doing this {smut}

- the one with the driver’s license. ✓ DRABBLE in which mark doesn’t trust you to drive. 

- the one with the ex boyfriend. ✓ in which you and your ex boyfriend, mark, take part in a video interview surrounding your past relationship. {part of the ex boyfriend series}

- the one with the lunch date. ✓ DRABBLE in which mark sleeps in and youre supposed to have a lunch date today.

- the one with the jacket. ✓ DRABBLE in which it’s cold and mark really wishes you had taken a jacket. {or: the things you said to show your love} {part of the 50 things you said series}

- the one with the bad dream. ✓ DRABBLE in which you had a bad dream and seek comfort in your roommate’s room.

- the one with the grey hoodie. ✓ DRABBLE in which you go to your ex boyfriend’s house to get the things you left there. [angst-y]

- the one with the assistants. ✓ DRABBLE in which you and mark are assistants to the worst people on the planet, but it’s not so bad when you have each other.

- the one with the emotional support boyfriend. ✓ DRABBLE in which you and mark agree to date purely for emotional support.

- the one with the tiktok. ✓ TIMESTAMP in which mark wants to film a tiktok with you, and it may or may not be because he gets to kiss you. {best friends to lovers}

- the one with the study date. ✓ TIMESTAMP in which there is confusion over whether studying together is or isn’t a date.

《《 huang renjun 》》

- the one with the cupboard in the art room COMING SOON!! in which renjun just needs more paint and he finds y/n hiding in the cupboard

- the one with the rooftop party. ✓ in which renjun and y/n meet at a party but he doesnt think they’ll ever meet again (the things you said when we thought we’d never see each other again) {university!au}

- the one with the hopeless romantic. [DRABBLE] in which renjun is a hopeless romantic and hes hopelessly in love with the girl he bumped into on the street

- the one with the ex boyfriend. ✓ in which you and your ex boyfriend, renjun, take part in a video interview surrounding your past relationship. {part of the ex boyfriends series}

- the one with the New Years eve party.  [2]  ▶▶▶ in which you’re invited to your ex boyfriend’s family’s New Years eve party [angst-y]

- the one with the second chance. ✓ in which you and renjun take part in a video interview six months later. {sequel to the one with the ex boyfriend.}

《《 lee jeno 》》

- the one with the summer job [1] ▶▶▶ in which yn needs work placement and ends up working in an infirmary to help little kids, and one very injured jeno {summer camp au} {part of the Hideaway Hollow series}

- the one where it all ends COMING SOON!! in which breaking up is for the best, but jeno and y/n want to spend the time they have left as best as possible 

- the one with the contract [1] ▶▶▶ in which y/n really likes someone else so jeno offers to date her (naturally) {part of the 100tws series} {fake dating!au} {high school!au}

- the boyfriend one. ✓ in which jeno is a boyfriend {bulleted} {part of the boyfriend!NCT series}

- the one with the lost cat. [1] ▶▶▶ in which Jeno’s looking for a cat and he finds his ex instead {neighbours!au} {exes to lovers!au} {part of the 1ydp}

- the one before it ends. [1] ▶▶▶ in which a break-up is for the best but dammit theyre gonna spend what little time they have as best as possible {angst-y}

- the one with the ex boyfriend. [jeno] ✓ in which you and your ex boyfriend, jeno, take part in a video interview surrounding your past relationship. {video interview}

- the one with the makeup. TIMESTAMP in which, somehow, you convince jeno to let you put makeup on him

- the one with the banner. DRABBLE in which you want to celebrate Jeno’s last day as an MC

- the one with coffee boy. TIMESTAMP in which jeno is a barista and gives you a free coffee.

- the one with the school dance. DRABBLE in which Jeno wishes he had asked you to the school dance.

- the one with the unsent messages. in which jeno still wants to text you all the time, even after you broke up. {angst}

《《 lee donghyuck (haechan) 》》

- the one where you’re enemies [1] [2] ▶▶▶ in which haechan and y/n are chemistry partners and a project might be enough to bring them together {text au}

- the one with the desk mates COMING SOON!! in which the teachers think you and donghyuck are cute and make you desk mates all the time and ngl theres a bit of chemistry there (and it’s not just because of the chemicals in the lab)

- the one with the study date COMING SOON!! in which donghyuck and y/n need to study but he has a habit of breaking things {high school!au}

- the one with the balcony. ✓ in which it’s too cold to sleep outside and donghyuck can’t sleep in his own room {part of the 100 things we’ve said project} {enemies to lovers!au} 

- the boyfriend one. ✓ in which donghyuck is a boyfriend {bulleted} {part of the boyfriend!NCT series}

- the one with the bruises. ✓ in which donghyuck gets hurt but luckily his neighbour is there to help fix him up {neighbour!au} {part of the 100 things we’ve said series}

- the one with the social butterfly. [12:12] in which hyuck could totally confess if you didn’t stop to talk to someone new every three seconds. [blurb]

- the one with the ex boyfriend. [donghyuck] ✓ in which you and your ex boyfriend, donghyuck, take part in a video interview surrounding your past relationship. [part of the ex boyfriend!nct series]

- the one with the note. ✓ TIMESTAMP in which your crush gives you a note in class. {crack/humour}

- the one with the mind reading. ✓ DRABBLE in which Renjun can read minds, and he knows Donghyuck is thinking about you. 

- the one where you’re someone else. [pt.2] ▶▶▶ in which you wake up in someone else’s body. more than once. {body switch!au} {enemies to lovers!au}

- the one where it’s not valentines day. ✓ DRABBLE in which your boyfriend hates valentine’s day but loves you.

- the one with the birthday wishes. ✓ DRABBLE in which donghyuck loves to celebrate your birthday.

- the one with the study date. ✓ TIMESTAMP in which the study date with your best friend turns into a real date. {best friends to lovers}

《《 na jaemin 》》

- the one with the washing machine [1] [2] [+ bonus] ✓ in which y/n lives in the same building as jaemin and the common laundry is a very messy place {neighbours!au}

- the one with the summer camp [1] ▶▶▶ in which y/n and jaemin are both ‘team leaders’ at a summer camp for little people and he may be hot but goddammit your collection of twelve-year-olds are going to beat his into the dust if its the last thing they do {part of the Hideaway Hollow series} {summer camp!au}

- the one with the mistletoe COMING SOON!! in which both jaemin’s crush and mistletoe are at this party so let’s make it happen {high school!au}

- the shopping one. ✓ in which jaemin goes shopping with you {bulleted}

- the one with all the ajax. ✓ in which y/n needs to clean her apartment and she finds a lot more than cleaning products in the apartment above her own

- the one with the detention. [1] ▶▶▶ in which jaemin’s a bit of an asshole but y/n is determined to do this chemistry project {enemies to lovers!au}

- the one with the ex boyfriend. [jaemin] ✓ in which you and your ex boyfriend, jaemin, take part in a video interview surrounding your past relationship.

- the one with the threat. TIMESTAMP in which you ask your best friend if he’s going to kiss you

- the one on Spotify. TIMESTAMP in which your crush is listening to your music.

- the one where you’re someone else. ▶▶▶ in which you wake up in someone else’s body. more than once. {body switch!au} {high school!au}

- the one where you break his heart. TIMESTAMP in which jaemin shows up at your house but you might love someone else. {fwb!au} {angst}

- the one with all the voicemails. in which your best friend always leaves you voicemails even though you never check them. {best friends to lovers!au}

- seven minutes in heaven + crush!jaemin [DRABBLE]

《《 zhong chenle 》》

- the one with the halloween party. ✓ in which y/n and chenle are enemies but can’t recognise each other at a costume party {high school!au} {bulleted fic}

- the one with the ex boyfriend. ✓ in which you and your ex boyfriend, chenle, take part in a video interview surrounding your past relationship.

- the one with the prom date. DRABBLE in which chenle is or isn’t your prom date, depending on who you ask.

- the one where you’re gone. TIMESTAMP in which chenle can still recognise your perfume even months after you break up. {short}

- the one with the impromptu picnic. TIMESTAMP in which you and your boyfriend have a picnic but you’re dating your relationship the whole time. {short} {inspired by are you bored yet? by wallows and clairo}

《《 park jisung 》》

- the one with the girl who calls him stringbean. [10:22] in which jisung’s girlfriend calls him stringbean and he can’t figure out why he doesn’t like it {timestamp}

- the one with the whipped cream. ✓ DRABBLE in which you and your boyfriend pull a prank on the others, and revenge is imminent

- the one with the ex boyfriend. ✓ in which you and your best friend, jisung, take part in an interview surrounding your past relationship.

fake texts and social media

- stupid questions with nct dream COMPLETED.

- nct dream twitter COMPLETED.

- nct dream vs. renjun on twitter COMPLETED.

- a meme hyuck moodboard

- asking best friend!donghyuck out on a date COMPLETED.

answered questions

- what sort of fashion/style on a girl would donghyuck be attracted to?

- what sort of fashion/style on a girl would jeno be attracted to?

- if nct dream were woolies bakery items, what would they be?

- if nct dream were dog breeds, what would they be?

- if nct dream were nct dream title tracks, what would they be?

- what would nct dream major in in uni?

- nct dream x Brooklyn 99 characters

fic inspiration / title a fic for me challenge

the one with the superpowers [NCT Dream series] paint me [Huang Renjun x reader] the one with the list [Johnny Suh x reader] [Nakamoto Yuta x reader] the one with the nicotine addiction[Lee Taeyong x reader] the one with the glitter pens [Lee Donghyuck x reader] the one where chenle’s a vampire [Zhong Chenle x reader] contradicting thoughts [Mark Lee x reader] the one where mark finds out [Mark Lee x reader] xoxo valentine [Jung Jaehyun x reader] mark of a star [Mark Lee x reader]

the one with the lost bookmark [Qian Kun x reader] the one with the half-finished sentence [Mark Lee x reader] the one with the purple hair [Johnny Suh x reader] the one with the allergies [Lee Jeno x reader] the one with the cinnamon bun air freshener [Johnny Suh x reader] the one with the ninja turtles phone case [Mark Lee x reader] the one with the secret identity [Mark Lee x reader] the one with the stuck pickle jar [Johnny Suh x reader] the one with the spell book [Lee Jeno x reader]

coronavirus inspired fic ideas

THE BOYZ

all works

the boyz as hogwarts students [OT12]

ATEEZ

all works

《《 choi san 》》

- the one with the practice room. DRABBLE in which san’s tired after dance practice and just wants to cuddle.

Jack of all Trades [l.mk]

Summary: After saving an unknown and injured man from dying. All of a sudden, you’re under the protection of one of Seoul’s notorious mafia.

Genre: mafia!au, strangers-to-lovers!au, angst, fluff

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, smoking, language, implied sexual content 

Pairing: Mark Lee x f!reader

Word count: 7.4k

You have never been more relieved to go home after a long, gruelling day at your job. You’ve worked for a cafe for a while as a part time job, then became a full time thing after you’ve graduated to earn a little more cash to support yourself. After all, earning money is not easy. 

During one of your breaks, you instantly remembered that the results for the Nursing Licensure exams are bound to be released today. Without missing a beat, you immediately pulled out your phone, a notification popped up the moment you typed in your passcode.

LOCAL MAFIA WRECKS HAVOC, POLICE ADVICE CIVILIANS TO STAY INSIDE:

Kim Sohye | May 4, 2020 12:29 

You cleared the notification after and decided to read the article later. Crime is pretty high nowadays but you can confidently say that you live in a safe neighborhood because you’ve been walking home alone despite these happenings. 

Refreshing the site for the result, your fingers typing your exam number rapidly. How you wanted to cry at that very moment. Luckily, you can still do a retake, but you have to wait for 45 days for the next exam which gives you more time to prepare.

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