#LOVERS TRIANGLE 2 IN THE WORKS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scarluna · 1 month ago

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Y/N, a gifted but self-conscious graphic designer, lands a job at Jeon Enterprises, a powerhouse ruled by the sharp and controlling Jeon Jungkook, whose ruthless perfectionism hides behind an enigmatic façade. Though admired and feared, Jungkook targets Y/N’s insecurities, using them as weapons against her.

Beside him stands his best friend, Min Yoongi, a sly and unpredictable force whose hot-and-cold behavior leaves Y/N questioning his motives.

Tangled in a web of cold authority, teasing games, and unspoken desire, Y/N must navigate a dangerous love triangle where ambition and emotion collide, threatening to unravel everything.

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader x Min Yoongi

Genre/Tags: plus sized reader, enemies to lovers, ceo!jungkook, graphic designer!reader, mafia!yoongi

Link to the other chapters: ACT I / ACT III / ACT IV / ACT V / ACT VI / ACT VII

Chapters: 2 / ?

Chapter Warnings: mature language, bullying, slow burn, enemies to lovers

ACT II.

The office was a battlefield, and I was the only one unarmed.

Every day felt like a fresh assault. Tina’s barbs were sharper, her voice dripping with fake sympathy as she leaned over my desk. “Oh, Y/N, are you sure you’re comfortable in that chair? It looks like it’s a little… snug.”

I tried to ignore her, my cheeks burning as I focused on the mock-up on my screen. She’d been relentless all week, and every comment felt like a jab to my already low self-esteem. I was keeping quiet, minding my own business but the bullying never seemed to stop. I wanted to be the bigger person, the mature person who doesn't take things to heart. And it seemed like it from outside, but from the inside I was suffering.

Across the room, Yoongi wasn’t much better. His criticisms were less direct, but no less cutting. He had a way of making me feel incompetent without ever raising his voice. “Y/N, these designs lack creativity,” he’d say, his tone calm but loaded with judgment. “Maybe it’s time you considered a role that’s more… fitting for your skill set. Like data entry.”

I bit my lip, swallowing the lump in my throat. I wasn’t going to cry. Not here, not in front of them.

Jungkook, however, was the worst of all. Every glance he threw my way felt like a judgment, every word like a blow.

“You’re moving too slow,” he snapped one afternoon, slamming a stack of papers onto my desk, leaning over to my face whilst his dark eyes burned into my soul. “Do you even understand deadlines? Or is thinking that fast too much for you?”

The team laughed quietly, but the sound roared in my ears. I felt my hands tremble. I wanted to open my mouth, I wanted to shout and say that I quit this god forsaken place, but I couldn't. Call me weak, call me pushover or whatever, but this job was important to me and I wanted to keep proving my worth.

By the end of the day, I was drained of course. My confidence was in shreds, my energy spent. But the worst moments came when I was alone at home, sitting in my small one-bedroom flat with my dog curled up at my feet and tears streaming down my face.

That evening, I sat at the kitchen table, staring at a cold cup of tea in my hands. Hades, my dog, whimpered, sensing my distress, and I reached down to stroke his soft fur.

“I’m fine,” I whispered in a shaky voice, wiping my tears away. It has been like this for weeks. I was at work, bullied, mocked at, then came home and cried my eyes out the entire evening. And then when I opened my eyes in the next morning, the cycle repeated itself.

I thought of my parents, so far away and unaware of the chaos in my life. I couldn’t burden them with this. I thought of my brother in prison, the shame my family carried, and the weight of holding everything together by myself.

And yet, I knew I couldn’t give up. If I lost this job, I’d lose everything. My apartment, my independence, my sense of self. I had to keep going, no matter how much it hurt.

The next morning, I dragged myself into the office, my body heavy with exhaustion and my eyes burning from all the crying and lack of sleep.

The morning passed in a blur of emails, revisions, and pointed comments from Yoongi and Tina which I ignored, I was too lost in thoughts to even listen to them anymore. By lunchtime, my head was pounding, but I pushed through, forcing myself to finish the latest round of edits.

“You look terrible,” Tina said as she passed my desk, her voice dripping with mocking concern. “Maybe you should take a break. But then again, even when you take a break you'd do a shitty job afterward yet again.”

I ignored her, focusing on the screen in front of me. My surroundings were like a blurr. Somewhat, I lost sense of my emotions the moment I focused on my design as this was the only thing helping me out in this moment.

By the end of the day, my vision was blurring. My body felt like it was on autopilot, moving through tasks without really comprehending what I was doing. Of course I did fuck up a few times, stumbling in my tasks and that did not go unnoticed by my boss.

“Y/N, are you listening?” Jungkook’s voice snapped me out of my daze.

I blinked, realizing I had been staring at my screen without hearing a word of the conversation happening around me.

“Yeah. . . I am listening," I lied lowly, refusing to meet his eyes.

I could practically hear him scoff and probably roll his eyes. “You’re useless. Why are you even here?”

The words hit me like a slap, but I couldn’t muster the strength to respond.

It happened that evening at the end of my workday, just as I was finishing the last of my assignments. I stood up from my desk, the world tilting around me and my legs went weak. My vision blurred, and before I could catch myself, everything went black.

When I came to my senses, I was lying on the floor, a small crowd gathered around me. Rya’s worried face was the first thing I saw, her hands gently patting my cheeks.

“Y/N! Are you okay?” she asked, her voice filled with panic. "Should we call an ambulance?"

I groaned, my body aching as I tried to sit up. “N-no, i-it's fine. What happened?” I was pulled up gently by Rya as the other colleagues slowly walked away because they saw Rya's murderous glance. This girl was doing everything to protect me and she had no clue how grateful and appreciative I was to her for that.

“You fainted,” Rya said, helping me up. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.” I was also not eating at all, because their jokes about how I looked finally had gotten to me.

Hoseok appeared, holding a bottle of water. “You need to take care of yourself, Y/N,” he said gently. “This job isn’t worth destroying your health over.”

I felt tears prick at my eyes, but I forced them back, nodding weakly. “I’m fine,” I said, though my voice shook. “I’ll be fine.” I saw Hoseok and Rya look at each other and then back at me. From the corner of my eye I saw Tina stand not too far away, arms crossed against her chest. She huffed and headed down the hallway. This was a lost cause, wasn't it? Working at such a big company, getting paid well, just to be treated like trash...

Deep down, I knew that me saying I was fine was far from the truth. Something had to change soon—because if it didn’t, I wasn’t sure how much more I could take.

I didn’t expect the knock on my door that Saturday morning. Weekends were my time to recharge, to hide from the world and the constant judgment I faced at work. I would spend the weekends curled in bed, eating my emotions away and watching crime documentaries while Hades was curled by my side. But when I opened the door and saw whoever was standing there, a small smile on his face and a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands, my heart skipped a beat.

“Taehyung?” I blinked, caught off guard by the sight of my childhood best friend. It had been months since we’d last seen each other, though we’d kept in touch through our parents.

“Surprise,” he said warmly, holding out the flowers. “Thought I’d stop by and say hello. You’re not busy, are you?”

I shook my head, taking the flowers with a smile. “Not at all. Come in!”

He stepped inside, taking in the small space. Hades barked excitedly at the newcomer, running in circles around Taehyung’s legs.

“Hades,” I said with a laugh, scooping up my little dog. “Be nice. This is Taehyung.”

Taehyung grinned, scratching behind Hades’ ears. “You have a dog now? I should’ve brought treats.” "It's okay, he shouldn't eat much or else he'd become pudgy." "But pudgy is cute." he muttered and I giggled. His aura and presense somehow made me feel safe and at ease. I forgot how much of a kind hearted man Tae was. And here he was, dressed casually, hair a cute mess and a lazy smile gracing his features.

We spent a few minutes catching up before Taehyung suggested we take a walk. “It’s been ages since we’ve just hung out,” he said. “Let’s go to the park. Get some fresh air.”

The park was peaceful, the late morning sun casting a golden glow over the trees. We walked along the path, Hades trotting happily beside us on his leash. The park was not filled with many people this early in the morning and I was grateful for that. Somehow a lot of people made me anxious.

“So,” Taehyung said, breaking the comfortable silence, “how’s life in the big city? Still doing graphic design?”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to sound more enthusiastic than I felt. “It’s… a lot. But I’m managing.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Managing, huh? That doesn’t sound like the Y/N I know. You used to dream big. What happened to that spark of yours?”

I shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “Life happened, I guess.”

Taehyung frowned but didn’t press further. Instead, he changed the subject. “Have you heard from your parents recently? My mom mentioned they were planning to visit soon.”

I nodded. “We talk every week. They’re good, keeping busy.”

“And your brother?”

I hesitated, the mention of my brother a sensitive topic, of course. I didn't talk to anyone about him and my parents seemed to be good at avoiding the topic for my own brother as well. They acted as if he was a shame to our family. “He’s… okay. Still in prison, but we’re hopeful he’ll be out sooner than expected. He’s trying to stay positive.”

Taehyung’s expression softened. “If there’s anything I can do to help, you’ll let me know, right? My firm handles cases like his all the time.” Taehyung was a successful lawyer here, he even owned his own law firm and I was so happy for him. Ever since he was a child he was determined and a smooth talker, convincing people with ease. He was also smart and selfless which was one of the things I liked about him.

I smiled, touched by his offer. “Thanks, Tae. I’ll keep that in mind.”

As we continued walking, Taehyung talked about his work and how many weird cases he has been working on recently.

“I still can’t believe you run your own firm,” I said, shaking my head. “You make it sound so easy.”

He laughed. “It’s anything but easy, trust me. But I love what I do. And it doesn’t hurt that my parents are proud of me for once.”

“They’ve always been proud of you,” I said, nudging him playfully. “You’re their golden child.”

“Maybe,” he said, his tone teasing. “But I’ve always cared more about what you thought of me.”

I blinked, caught off guard by his words. Before I could respond, Hades barked, pulling at the leash.

I glanced up to see what had caught his attention—and froze.

My boss was leaning against a dark Mercedez Benz and a cigarette dangled between his lips. He looked so casual. And also there was a man who had his back on me but it did not take me long to realize this was Yoongi. I was staring for too long. Jungkook's gaze flickered on me and I saw a glint of surprise which made Yoongi turn around as well. My heart stopped.

For a moment, neither of us moved. It was as if the world had stopped, the air thick with tension.

“Y/N?” Taehyung’s voice broke the spell, and I tore my gaze away from Jungkook, my heart pounding.

“Sorry,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “What were you saying?”

Taehyung followed my gaze, his brow furrowing as he took in both men's figures. “Is that Jeon Jungkook?” he asked surprised.

I shook my head, the knot in my stomach tightening. “Y-yeah. ” I mumbled and Tae hummed. "So he is your boss?" I nodded. "Does he give you a hard time? I can give him a piece of my mind." I could hear the annoyance on Taehyung's voice as he spoke about Jungkook. I shook my head and my eyes shifted back on Tae. "It's fine.Let's just go."

Taehyung didn’t look convinced, but he let it go, steering the conversation back to lighter topics as we slowly walked away.

But even as we continued walking, laughing and reminiscing, I couldn’t shake the image of Jungkook’s piercing gaze—or the way it had made me feel like he could see right through me.

Monday arrived far too quickly, and as I walked into the office, I could already feel the tension in the air. The weekend spent with Taehyung had been a rare reprieve, a reminder of the warmth of genuine friendship. But as soon as I entered the workspace, the cruel reality of my job hit me like a cold slap.

The whispers started almost immediately.

“Did you see her at the park?” Tina’s voice carried from the nearby break area, intentionally loud enough for me to hear.

“Oh, yeah,” Yoongi drawled, smirking as he leaned against the counter. “Who’d she pay to walk beside her like that?”

A few chuckles rippled through the room, and I kept my eyes fixed on my desk, willing myself to ignore them.

“Maybe he’s her personal trainer,” Tina continued with a sneer. “Though, let’s be honest, she doesn’t seem like the type who actually listens to advice.”

I gripped the edge of my desk, my knuckles turning white as I fought to keep my composure.

Jungkook’s voice joined the fray, sharp and mocking. “He probably felt bad for her. Sympathy date, maybe.”

Laughter erupted around me, the sound cutting deeper than I cared to admit.

“Morning, Y/N!” Tina’s fake tone made my stomach churn as she approached my desk, her heels clicking against the floor. “Had a good weekend? You seemed… busy.”

I forced a smile, keeping my voice even. “It was fine, thanks.”

Her eyes sparkled with faux curiosity. “Oh, come on, you can tell us. Who was that guy? Friend? Cousin? You’re not seriously trying to say he’s your boyfriend, are you?”

The heat rose to my cheeks, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. “Just an old friend.”

Tina’s smile widened, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Oh, that makes sense. Because, you know, someone like him... with someone like you? Not exactly believable.”

The laughter started up again, and I clenched my fists under the desk, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from snapping back. I shot her a glare however and she did see it. That errupted a chuckle from her and she walked away with graceful steps, shaking her hips because she knew Jungkook was there. Pathetic bitch.

The hours dragged on, each task feeling heavier under the weight of the relentless mockery. By lunchtime, I felt like I was suffocating, the walls of the office closing in around me. I haven't felt like this since I was in damn high school.

“Y/N, you okay?” Rya’s voice was a lifeline, her genuine concern cutting through the fog of humiliation.

I glanced up to see her and Hoseok standing by my desk, their expressions sympathetic.

“Yeah,” I lied, forcing a smile. “I’m fine.”

“Let’s grab lunch,” Hoseok suggested. “Get out of here for a bit.”

I hesitated, but the idea of escaping the toxic atmosphere, even for a little while, was too tempting to pass up.

As we sat in a small café a few blocks away, I felt the tension slowly begin to ease. The warm, comforting smells of coffee and pastries wrapped around me like a blanket, and for the first time all day, I felt like I could breathe again.

“They’re absolute trash,” Rya said bluntly, stirring her latte. “Tina, Yoongi, Jungkook—all of them.”

Hoseok nodded, his eyes serious. “You’re better than all of them combined, Y/N.”

I shrugged, poking at my sandwich with a fork. “It’s just... exhausting. I try to ignore them, but it’s like they go out of their way to tear me down.”

“They’re jealous,” Rya said firmly. “That’s all it is. You have talent, Y/N. They see that, and it scares them.”

I gave her a doubtful look. “They don’t seem scared to me.”

“Well, screw them,” Hoseok said, his tone unusually sharp. “You’ve got people who believe in you, Y/N.” I wish I could believe his words, but deep down I didn't. I was too absorbed in my inner pain to even think someone was believing in me. I wasn't believing in myself in the first place.

As I stepped through the doors, Yoongi’s voice rang out, loud and mocking.

“Back from lunch with your friends?” he said, smirking as he leaned against his desk arms crossed against his chest.

The others laughed, their eyes gleaming with amusement as they watched me walk past.

I didn’t respond, didn’t even look at him. But inside, I was crumbling, each cruel word chipping away at the walls I’d built to protect myself.

How much longer could I keep this up? How much more could I take before I broke completely?The answer lingered in the back of my mind, terrifying and inevitable.

The rest of the day passed in a haze of barely contained emotions. I kept my head down, focusing on the screen in front of me, even as whispers and snickers floated through the air like poison. Even my team was just as disgusting except Hoseok and Rya. What was wrong with adults acting like children?

By the time 4 PM rolled around, I was hanging on by a thread. But of course, Tina wasn’t about to let me leave without one final jab.

She sauntered over to my desk, her heels clicking against the floor like a countdown to my inevitable implosion. Today she wore a bright blue pencil skirt, a white blouse that had too much buttons popped off. I could see her cleveage clearly. This was definitely not job appropriate but I knew who she was doing this for.

“Hey, Y/N,” she said, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your designs. They’re… fine, I guess. For someone who clearly hasn’t seen the inside of a fashion magazine in, what, years?”

Her laugh was joined by Yoongi’s low chuckle from across the room, and my chest tightened.

“Not everyone can have an eye for detail like I do,” Tina continued, her voice rising so the whole office could hear. “But don’t worry. Maybe if you spent less time stuffing your face with food and more time paying attention to trends, you might actually produce something worth presenting to a client.”

The room fell silent, all eyes on me. My hands trembled, my nails digging into the edge of my desk.

“Enough,” I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. I could feel the rage bubbling up from deep inside of me. It was getting hard to control myself at this point. All these weeks of bullying and me being silent had to come to an end.

“What was that?” Tina leaned closer, a smug smile tugging at her lips.

“I said enough!” I stood up so quickly my chair toppled over, the loud clatter startling everyone. Tina's expression changed, I could see her blue eyes grow wide as she took a slight step back and her hands fell down her sides.

Tina blinked, clearly not expecting a reaction from me. “Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard me,” I said, my voice shaking but growing stronger with every word. “I’ve had it with your constant shitty bullying. Every day, you find some new way to tear me down, and for what? To make yourself feel better? To prove you’re better than me?”

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “Oh, please. Don’t be so dramatic.” she tried to look disinterested but I could see the surprise in her eyes from my outburst. Somehow I couldn't keep my mouth shut anymore. The words kept spilling out.

“Dramatic?” I laughed bitterly. “You’ve been treating me like garbage since the day I got here. Mocking my work, my weight, the way I dress, the way I look. And for what? Because you’re insecure? Because you can’t stand the idea of someone else succeeding? Someone else that is plain looking? Or should I say, someone that is different looking?”

The color drained from her face, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“And let’s not even start on the way you constantly throw yourself at the boss, who mind you, is just as shitty as you are.” I added, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “The way you bat your lashes, lean into him, practically cling to his arm whenever he’s in the room... everyone sees it, Jungkook especially. And guess what, he is not interested. Pathetic, isn't it?” I took a step toward her. She was taller than me wearing those heels, but I didn't gave a fuck. I was full with rage.

Gasps rippled through the office, and Tina’s cheeks turned crimson. From the corner of my eyes I could see Yoongi lean back on his chair and stare at us in pure silence.

“You want to act like you’re above me, Tina? Fine. But don’t think for a second we don’t all see how desperate you are to get his attention—and how he couldn’t care less. And you trying to bring me down by being a shitty Direct Manager does nothing to make the boss notice you.”

Her jaw dropped, her confidence visibly crumbling. “You—”

“What?” I snapped, cutting her off. “You don’t like hearing the truth? He doesn’t want you. He never will. So maybe, instead of tearing other people down to make yourself feel important, you should take a good, long look in the mirror.”

The room was deathly quiet, every pair of eyes glued to the unfolding scene.

“I-I will have you fired for this!" she stuttered, her face red with embarrassment.

I stared at her, my chest heaving, and for the first time, I saw her for what she really was: small, scared, and desperately clinging to the illusion of power.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice steady. “Do it, maybe I will finally get the mental break I deserve.”

Without another word, I grabbed my bag and walked out of the office, the sound of my footsteps echoing in the silence.

I didn’t make it far before the tears started falling. I ducked into the stairwell, sinking onto the cold concrete steps as the weight of the confrontation hit me. My shoulders shook with sobs, the release of weeks—months—of pent-up frustration and pain. Fucking hell, was I going to get fired for this? Fuck fuck fuck.

The door creaked open, and I looked up to see Rya standing there, her expression a mix of concern and pride.

“That was epic,” she said, sitting down beside me.

I laughed weakly, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. “It didn’t feel epic. It felt terrifying.”

“Well, it needed to be said,” she said firmly. “And you said it. You stood up for yourself, Y/N. That takes a lot of guts.”

I nodded, my tears slowing as her words sank in. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a spark of something I hadn’t felt in a long time: pride.

“Thanks, Rya,” I said softly.

She smiled, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Anytime. And just so you know, you’re not alone in this. We’ve got your back. And don't worry about getting fired, Jungkook can't afford to look for another candidate right now besides, deep down he knows you are brilliant at what you do and that you are a hard worker.”

Her words were like a balm to my wounded spirit, and as I sat there with her, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I was stronger than I thought.

The office was buzzing with murmurs in the aftermath of my confrontation with Tina, but I tried to focus on my work. My chest was still tight, my emotions raw, but I felt an odd sense of relief. Standing up for myself had been terrifying, yet it also felt strangely empowering.

I barely had time to process the relief before a sharp voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Y/N,” Jungkook called from the doorway of his office, his tone clipped. “My office. Now.”

Every pair of eyes in the room shot to me, their gazes heavy with curiosity and judgment. My stomach sank, but I refused to let the anxiety show. With my head held high, I pushed back from my desk and walked toward him, determined not to let him intimidate me anymore.

The door clicked shut behind me, and the room suddenly felt much smaller. Jungkook stood by his desk, his sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattooed forearms, his dark eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my breath hitch. I saw him wearing a dark suit. However, his jacket was gone and he had his shirt on, black slacks and his tattoos complimented him perfectly. If he wasn't such an ass, I'd have been secretly attracted to him.

“What’s this I hear about you causing a scene?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. He was definitely annoyed with me.

I crossed my arms, meeting his gaze head-on. “You mean standing up for myself? Sorry if that doesn’t fit your idea of acceptable behavior.”

His jaw tightened, and he took a step closer, the space between us shrinking. “This isn’t about acceptable behavior. It’s about keeping your head down and doing your job without making a spectacle of yourself.”

A laugh escaped me, bitter and unrestrained. “Oh, you mean like the way you and your little entourage make a spectacle out of humiliating me every chance you get?”

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, the tension in the room shifted, charged with something electric and unspoken.

“Careful, Y/N,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “You’re treading on thin ice.”

I took a step closer, closing the distance between us until I could feel the heat radiating from his body. And his cologne intoxicated me. “And you know what? I don’t care anymore. I’ve had enough of your condescending remarks, your bullying, and your constant need to remind me that I don’t fit into your little world.”

His gaze flicked to my lips, just for a second, but it was enough to make my heart race.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice rough."I have done no such thing. It was to push you so you can get better."

“Are you kidding me?!” I shot back, my voice trembling with anger. “I see the way you look at me, Jungkook. The way you go out of your way to make my life miserable. What is it? Does it make you feel powerful? Or are you just trying to cover up whatever it is you’re really feeling?”

His hand flexed at his side, and for a moment, I thought he might reach for me. But instead, he took a step back, his expression unreadable.

“You’re crossing a line,” he said, his voice tight.

“No,” I said firmly. “I’m finally drawing one.”

The room was silent except for the sound of my own breathing, ragged and uneven. I could feel the weight of his gaze, heavy and unrelenting, but I refused to back down.

“Is that all, Mr. Jeon?” I asked, my voice cold and formal.

His jaw clenched, but he nodded. “Get out.”

I turned on my heel and walked out of the office, my heart pounding in my chest. As the door closed behind me, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of triumph and dread.

Whatever was brewing between Jungkook and me, it was far from over. And something told me it was only going to get more complicated.

I left Jungkook’s office with my heart pounding and my hands trembling. I didn’t know if I felt victorious or terrified, but I couldn’t afford to overanalyze it right now. I just needed to keep my head down and survive the rest of the day.

On my way back to my desk after my lunch break, I ducked into the break room to grab a glass of water. I needed at least a second to breathe before I faced the curious stares of my coworkers.

That’s when I heard voices drifting in from the slightly ajar door from one of the closest meeting rooms.

“Man, she really snapped at Tina...” Yoongi’s familiar voice was laced with amusement.

I froze.

“She didn’t just snap,” Yoongi continued with a low chuckle. “She obliterated her. And the best part? She called out Tina’s ridiculous crush on you. In front of everyone. Priceless.”

“Shut up, Yoongi,” Jungkook snapped, his tone sharp.

“Why? It’s true.” Yoongi’s voice grew more teasing. “I’ve never seen Tina look so humiliated. It was a masterpiece, honestly. Someone had to put her in her place eventually.”

“She was out of line,” Jungkook growled.

I inched closer to the door, my heart racing. Were they talking about me?

“Out of line?” Yoongi scoffed. “You’re kidding, right? Tina’s been terrorizing her for weeks. Y/N finally decided she wasn’t going to take it anymore. Honestly, I respect her for it.”

“It’s not her job to cause scenes in the office, besides, you have terrorizing her as well.” Jungkook shot back, his tone cold.

Yoongi laughed, the sound dry and mocking. “Oh, please. Don’t act like you’re mad about the professionalism or whatever excuse you’re clinging to. You’re mad because she stood up to you too. Admit it, Jeon—she caught you off guard. And you hate not being in control. And you also terrorized her. Is that apropriate for a CEO to do?”

There was a brief silence, and then Jungkook’s voice dropped, low and dangerous. “Careful, Yoongi.”

“Why?” Yoongi said, unfazed. “Let’s be real, Jungkook. You’ve been riding her harder than anyone else in this office. And for what? Because she’s not your type? Because she’s not like the other girls who throw themselves at you? Or because she is fat?” Fat. This word made my hands shake. I hated it so much. It was a reminder.

“That’s enough,” Jungkook growled, the edge in his voice enough to make me hold my breath.

“Or maybe,” Yoongi continued, clearly enjoying pushing Jungkook’s buttons, “it’s because she doesn’t give a damn about you? She doesn’t hang on your every word or bat her lashes at you like Tina. She’s not afraid to tell you off, and it’s driving you crazy. She is not attractive at all and you cannot comprehend how come someone who is not pretty not into you?”

“I said that’s enough!” Jungkook’s voice echoed through the room, loud and commanding.

The sudden outburst made me flinch, and I stepped back, my foot scuffing against the floor.

The noise was subtle, but in the silence that followed Jungkook’s shout, it was loud enough to draw attention.

“What was that?” Jungkook’s voice was sharp.

I turned and bolted before either of them could investigate, my heart racing as I slipped back into the main office.

My mind was spinning, replaying the conversation I’d just overheard. Yoongi’s words lingered in my mind, poking at emotions I wasn’t ready to confront.

Jungkook wasn’t mad about professionalism. He wasn’t mad about Tina. He was mad about me.

And that terrified me more than anything else.

A few hours after overhearing the heated conversation between Jungkook and Yoongi, my head was a whirlwind of emotions. I couldn't focus on my work at all. I needed air—fresh, cool air that wasn’t tainted by the stifling tension of the office.

The rooftop seemed like the perfect escape. I’d been there once before during lunch, and it was usually deserted.

Pushing open the heavy door, I stepped out into the open, letting the crisp breeze wash over me. The city stretched out in every direction, its sounds muted by the height.

But my solitude was short-lived.

A familiar figure leaned against the railing, a cigarette between his fingers. Yoongi.

He glanced at me over his shoulder, one brow quirking in surprise. “Didn’t think you’d be the rooftop type.”

I crossed my arms, irritation bubbling to the surface. “And I didn’t think you’d be the smoking type. Guess we’re both full of surprises.”

He smirked, taking a long drag of his cigarette before exhaling a plume of smoke into the air. “Touché. So, what brings you up here? Trying to escape the circus downstairs?”

I took a few steps closer, my frustration from earlier finding a new target. “If by circus you mean you and Jungkook, then yeah. Congratulations, you two are the ringleaders.”

Yoongi let out a low chuckle, the sound grating against my nerves. “Ah, so you heard us.”

“Hard not to when you’re practically shouting,” I snapped. “Though I’m sure you both figured no one would dare eavesdrop on the great CEO and his sidekick.”

He turned to face me fully, leaning back against the railing. His sharp features were illuminated by the city lights, giving him an almost ethereal, dangerous look. “Careful, Y/N. You’re sounding pretty bold for someone who usually keeps her head down.”

I took another step closer, my anger pushing me forward. “Bold? You think this is bold? No, Yoongi. Bold is bullying someone for no good reason. Bold is turning the office into a soap opera just because you can’t act like an adult.”

His smirk faltered, replaced by a flash of something darker. He took a step toward me, closing the distance between us.

“You don’t know me,” he said, his voice low and cutting.

“And I don’t care to,” I shot back, though my voice wavered slightly.

We were close now, too close. The air between us was charged, a volatile mix of anger and something unspoken. His gaze locked onto mine, unyielding and intense, and I refused to back down.

“Let me guess,” I continued, my voice shaking with both rage and nerves. “You’re just another overgrown man-child who thinks the world owes him something. Smoking on the rooftop, making snarky comments—what’s next? Brooding poetry about how misunderstood you are?”

He tilted his head, his smirk returning, though it carried a dangerous edge. “You’ve got a mouth on you, Y/N. Didn’t think you had it in you to snap twice in one day.”

“Yeah, well, you and your buddy Jungkook seem to bring out the worst in me,” I bit out.

Yoongi stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But don’t think for a second that you can figure me out with your little insults. You should look at yourself in the mirror.”

“Figure you out?” I laughed bitterly. “I don’t want to figure you out, Yoongi. Trust me, I know who I am, I look at myself in the mirror everyday. What about you? Do you know who you are?" there was a pause." Leave me the hell alone.”

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Then why are you still standing here?”

I froze, my heart hammering in my chest. His words hung in the air, heavy and taunting. I hated the way he got under my skin, the way his presence seemed to pull at something deep and unwanted inside me.

“Because someone needs to tell you off as well,” I said finally, though my voice lacked the conviction it had moments ago.

He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “You’re cute when you’re mad, Y/N. But if you think you can scare me off, you’re in for a rude awakening.”

I glared at him, refusing to let him see how his words affected me. “Enjoy your rooftop melodrama.”

I turned on my heel, marching back toward the door. But as I reached for the handle, his voice stopped me.

“Y/N.”

I glanced back, my hand hovering over the door.

“You’re stronger than you think,” he said, his tone softer, almost contemplative.

I didn’t know how to respond, so I said nothing. Instead, I pushed open the door and walked back into the stairwell, his words following me like a shadow.

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rispwr · 5 months ago

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If i were you i'd do me - JK - MDNI - 2

pairings : fuckboy! jk x fem! reader, established relationship, mentions of smart! namjoon x oc, slow burn, enemies to lovers

contents/warnings : rich! oc, nepo! oc, fuckboy! jk, rich! jk, slight love triangle, smut, spoiled! oc, jk, big c! jk, fingering, semi-public xxx

taglist : comment if yall wanna be added

context : Jungkook, the notorious campus heartbreaker and player, unexpectedly becomes your groupmate alongside Namjoon, the guy you’ve secretly admired for ages. However, it seems your feelings have started shifting from Namjoon to someone else entirely unexpected…

two or three part series

It had been a week and a half since the group project began, and we only had two days left before we were supposed to present. I couldn't believe how fast the deadline was approaching. Surprisingly, Jungkook and I had managed to get along a little better in the past few days, although our relationship was still complicated. There was definitely more tension between us—lots of bickering over small details in the project, but there was also something else. A weird undercurrent of sexual tension seemed to creep into our interactions, though I tried to ignore it as much as possible.

We were in class, and the professor was droning on about something I wasn't paying much attention to. My mind wandered, thinking about how we were going to pull everything together in just two days. Suddenly, I felt my phone vibrate in my lap. Curious, I glanced down at my screen under the table to see who had texted me. It was Jungkook.

Jungkook: Hey, princess. Got any plans after class?

I rolled my eyes, my lips curling into a small smirk. Of course, he couldn't just ask normally. I typed a quick response.

Y/N: Not unless you're counting trying to save our sorry excuse for a project.

Almost immediately, my phone buzzed again.

Jungkook: Touché. How about we finish it at my place? You, me... Namjoon. Group work, you know?

Y/N: Why at your place?

Jungkook: Because my place is more fun. And I can make you a proper coffee. You know you want to.

Y/N: Fine. But this better be about the project and nothing else.

Jungkook: Can't promise that ;) See you after class.

I shook my head at his winking emoji but couldn't deny the tiny thrill that ran through me. Whether it was the impending deadline or something else, the air between Jungkook and me had been charged with an underlying tension lately. I wasn't sure how to feel about it, but it was becoming harder to brush off.

Once we settled in Jungkook's place, the tension between us was unbearable. It had been building for days, and now, in the quiet of his living room, it felt like we were teetering on the edge of something we couldn't take back.

Jungkook sat next to me on the couch, his casual demeanor masking the intensity in the air. I opened my laptop, pretending to focus on the project, but my mind was far from it. I could feel his eyes on me, and when his hand casually drifted to rest on my thigh again, I froze.

"Have you eaten yet?" he asked, his voice low and smooth, like he wasn't fully paying attention to his own words but to the way my body tensed at his touch.

I forced myself to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "wow. you suddenly care about my wellbeing now?"

He smirked, that familiar cocky grin that always seemed to piss me off. "What? Can't a guy ask a simple question?"

I rolled my eyes and turned my gaze back to the screen. "Yeah, I ate. Did you?"

"Mmhmm," he murmured, not removing his hand, his fingers starting to gently trace little patterns on my thigh. "Just making sure you're not starving before we start working."

I bit my lip, trying to focus, but every nerve in my body was screaming at me to pay attention to his touch. His fingers were moving now, grazing my skin in slow, deliberate strokes, each one lighting a fire in my core.

I couldn't take it anymore.

The tension,

his hand,

his stupid smirk

—it was all too much. I turned to face him, my chest rising and falling with barely concealed frustration. Before I could think about what I was doing,

I grabbed his face and crashed my lips onto his.

The kiss was messy,

desperate, fueled by all the frustration and tension that had been boiling over between us for weeks. He responded immediately, his hand tightening on my thigh, pulling me closer as he kissed me back just as fiercely. His other hand tangled in my hair, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered except the way his lips moved against mine.

In between the kiss, he pulled back just a fraction, enough to murmur, "Thought you hated me."

I barely registered his words, my breath coming in short, heavy pants. "I do," I whispered, my voice a mix of defiance and something else. "I think."

Jungkook chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against my lips as he leaned back in, his hand now traveling up my side, slipping under my shirt. His touch was slow, teasing, as if he was testing just how far he could push before I stopped him. But I didn't stop him. I couldn't. The warmth of his palm against my skin sent shivers through my entire body, and I leaned into him, craving more.

His lips were on mine again, but this time, the kiss was deeper, slower, like we were savoring every second of this moment. His hand moved higher, grazing the edge of my bra, and I let out a quiet whimper, the sound muffled against his mouth.

"Still think you hate me?" he teased between kisses, his lips brushing against the corner of my mouth, trailing down to my jaw.

I tried to answer, but my thoughts were a jumbled mess, lost in the haze of his touch and the overwhelming heat building inside me. Instead, all I could manage was a shaky, "Shut up."

Jungkook grinned against my skin, his breath hot against my neck as his hand slipped further under my shirt, his fingers ghosting over my breast. "You know," he murmured, his voice low and full of that damn cockiness, "I'm not even doing anything, and you're already..... horny?."

I swallowed hard, trying to regain some control, but the way his hand felt on me, the way his lips moved against my skin, it was impossible to think straight. I opened my mouth to say something, to tell him to stop...or maybe to tell him not to stop, but before I could,

I heard the sound of the door opening.

Panic shot through me, and I jerked away from him, pulling my shirt back down and scrambling to sit up straight. Namjoon had just walked in, completely oblivious to the tension that had just filled the room.

Jungkook, on the other hand, didn't even flinch. He stayed where he was, leaning back casually with a smug grin on his face, like he was savoring the fact that he had completely undone me in a matter of minutes. He rubbed his lips with his thumb, his eyes glinting with amusement as he watched me try to pull myself together.

Namjoon, blissfully unaware of what he'd just interrupted, smiled and waved as he set his bag down. "Hey, sorry I'm late."

"Uh, it's fine," I mumbled, still feeling the heat in my cheeks as I avoided Jungkook's gaze. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened—or what almost happened.

Jungkook finally sat up, stretching lazily as he glanced at Namjoon. "We were just getting started," he said, his tone casual, though the smirk on his face told me he was still very much enjoying the moment.

Namjoon nodded, pulling out his laptop. "Cool, let's get to work then."

I shot a glare at Jungkook, who only grinned wider, clearly reveling in the fact that I was still flustered. And as much as I wanted to punch him, I couldn't deny the way my body still buzzed from his touch.

This was going to be a long night.

As the three of us sat around Jungkook's living room table, trying to focus on the project, I couldn't help but feel the lingering tension between us. My mind kept drifting back to the kiss, the way his hands felt on me, and it didn't help that Jungkook kept sending me these playful glances when Namjoon wasn't looking.

We were supposed to be reviewing some notes Namjoon had brought, but my attention was elsewhere. Namjoon was talking animatedly about his ideas, while I pretended to follow along, nodding occasionally. Meanwhile, Jungkook, who sat way too close for comfort on my other side, started to shift, his knee brushing against mine under the table.

I froze for a second, my heart racing, but I didn't move. I didn't pull away. Instead, I shot him a quick look out of the corner of my eye. He glanced back, smirking, and then, without warning, his hand slipped under the table and onto my thigh again.

This time, though, it wasn't innocent.

His fingers began to creep higher, just brushing the hem of my skirt. I tensed up, glancing at Namjoon, who was completely focused on the work in front of him. Jungkook's hand continued its slow, deliberate journey under my skirt, and I couldn't help the way my breath hitched.

I should've stopped him. I should've pushed his hand away, but I didn't. My body reacted on its own, allowing him to continue as my heart pounded in my chest. I swallowed hard, trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy as Namjoon droned on about the project.

Jungkook's fingers slowly rubbed my clothed clit, and I bit my lip, trying to suppress a gasp. I shifted slightly in my seat, hoping Namjoon wouldn't notice. Jungkook, of course, noticed everything. He leaned in just a little closer, whispering softly, "You okay?"

I shot him a glare, though it lacked any real conviction. He chuckled under his breath, clearly enjoying the fact that I was letting him get away with this. His hand traveled higher, pushing my panties to the side enough for him to enter.

i then let out a slight whimper catching their attention. jungkook smirking as he inserts another finger into me "are you okay y/n?" namjoon asks concerned about me "a-ahh no no..haha i-i stubbed my toe" i tried to reply as i was unable to talk normally. the pleasure was too good.

now i know why girls love to throw themselves at jungkook

i held onto jungkooks shirt tightening my grip as i felt my orgasm being near. jungkook sensed it as my walls then starts to tighten around his fingers, he then fastened his pace, making my heart race faster. he then looks at me as i struggle, biting my lips trying not to make any sounds but my legs were shaking.

i finally came. my white liquid coating his fingers as he pulls out making a 'plop' sound.

i breathed heavily trying to pull myself together as i lick my lips, turning to jungkook watching him as he licks his fingers, cleaning my cum that was on his fingers.

once we were done with our study session Namjoon stood up to leave, an awkward silence settled in the room for a brief second. He gathered his things, explaining something about a school board meeting that he couldn't miss. I nodded along, thankful for the distraction from the tension that had been building between Jungkook and me for the past hour. Jungkook, on the other hand, remained calm, though I could sense the playful energy still simmering beneath the surface.

Namjoon finally said his goodbyes and left, closing the door behind him. The silence between Jungkook and me felt thick, heavy with the weight of everything we weren't saying. I didn't dare look at him at first, knowing that the second I did, we wouldn't be able to hold back any longer.

i then got up from the couch as i got on his lap, ruffling and playing with his hair. i tilt my head keeping eye contact with him giving him a smile as his hands starts travelling it's way to undo my bra until my phone suddenly rang distrupting our moment.

i got up to get my phone and it's hoseok.

i answered the call but jungkook took it

"hey y/n where are you?" hoseok asks concerned as it has already been past 6 pm.

"she's with her boyfriend" jungkook answers making me shook my head in panic as i try to get my phone from him "what the fuck jungkook!" i got up on him trying to get the phone as i heard hoseok mutter "what the fuck is happening" on the phone. "kiss first" jungkook points at his lips hinting me to kiss him.

and without hesitation i kissed him. i pull away looking at him in the eye as i spoke softly "can i get my phone now?" "say please" he replies making me annoyed. "can i please get my phone now?" i answered him as he slowly gave me the phone giving a cocky grin.

i yanked the phone from him a little bit harsh but i was already annoyed.

"hey hoseok? i'm sorry that was jungkook" i said awkwardly

"i was right then?" he asks

"huh?"

"you like him do youuu??" he teases

"hell nah what the fuck" i shook my head

jungkook then interrupts and yell on the phone "says the girl who kissed me and wanted to make out with me!" i hit jungkooks shoulder playfully as hoseok on the phone "omygod!! jimin and jin has to know about this bye!!"

"wait hoseok no-" before i could speak hoseok ends the call.

"what the fuck?" i said to him annoyed

"sorryyy princess" he gives me a peck on the cheek and points at his hard bulge

"i made you cum and i didn't get to cum" he pouts

"my precious pussy doesn't deserve a cock that goes in other pussies that we don't even know it clean. maybe stop fucking other girls and i'll let you, hm?" i cup his face as i answered softly

i then sat down on the couch to relax, closing my eyes, i couldn't stop thinking about what had happened today with jungkook.

After everything that happened, Jungkook broke the silence with a smirk, his usual confidence returning. "Let me take you home," he offered, tilting his head towards the door. "You know, on my bike."

"Sure," I said, keeping my voice steady, though internally I was anything but calm.

As we walked out of his house and towards his bike, I could feel the unspoken tension between us, a silent reminder of the unresolved tension lingering in the air. Jungkook handed me a helmet, his fingers brushing lightly against mine. I couldn't help but notice how his eyes lingered on me for a second longer than necessary before he turned his attention back to the bike.

"You sure you trust me on this thing?" he teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he adjusted his helmet.

I rolled my eyes, but a small smile crept onto my face despite myself. "Just don't kill me, Jeon," I said, slipping the helmet on.

Jungkook chuckled before straddling the bike. "Wouldn't dream of it," he replied, patting the seat behind him. "Hop on."

I hesitated for a second before sliding onto the seat behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. The moment my body pressed against his back, I could feel the firm muscles under his shirt, the warmth radiating from him. I mentally cursed myself for feeling flustered by something as simple as a bike ride, but there was no denying the electricity that sparked between us. The memory of his hands on me, his lips, kept flashing in my mind. God, what had happened to me?

As soon as the engine revved to life, the city streets blurred past us, and I tightened my grip on Jungkook. The wind whipped around us, the cool night air contrasting with the warmth of his body. My chest was pressed firmly against him, my heart pounding in my ears, and I couldn't help but bury my face into his back. Being this close to him, especially after everything that had just happened, made it hard to think straight.

The ride home was both exhilarating and maddening. Every second, I was hyper-aware of how close we were, the subtle movements of his body as he steered the bike, the way my arms tightened around him with every turn. I had never ridden on a motorcycle before, and the adrenaline only added to the charged atmosphere. As much as I hated to admit it, part of me didn't want the ride to end.

But all too soon, we pulled up in front of my house. Jungkook parked the bike, cutting the engine, and I reluctantly let go of him, sliding off the seat. My legs were a little unsteady, whether from the ride or the emotions swirling inside me, I wasn't sure. I pulled off the helmet, my fingers brushing through my hair as I handed it back to him.

As soon as Jungkook and I stepped through the front door, my mom, ever the gracious host, immediately beamed at Jungkook, practically pulling him inside with an invitation to stay for tea. I was trying to mentally prepare myself for the inevitable barrage of questions from her, but before I could even process that, I heard the familiar voice of my best friend, Hoseok, from the living room.

"Y/N! Guess what? I found—oh..." Hoseok's words trailed off when he saw Jungkook behind me, his eyes widening in surprise. His playful grin faltered for a second, replaced by curiosity as he glanced between the two of us. "Wait, what's going on here? You're bringing home the infamous Jeon Jungkook?"

I shot Hoseok a warning look, but he only raised his eyebrows, clearly amused. Of course, he would be staying over tonight. Hoseok was practically family at this point—my mom loved him, and he often stayed over when he was in town. I should have known he'd be here, lounging on the couch like he owned the place.

Before I could answer, my mom jumped in, leading Jungkook toward the living room, where she immediately started gushing over him. "Oh, it's so nice to meet one of Y/N's friends from school! She never brings anyone home. Please, make yourself comfortable."

Jungkook chuckled softly, giving my mom his signature charming smile. "Thank you, ma'am. It's nice to meet you too."

I could see my mom's eyes light up at his politeness, and I mentally groaned, knowing she was going to absolutely love him by the end of the night. Great, just what I needed—my mom falling for Jungkook's charm.

While my mom was busy fawning over him, I made my way over to Hoseok, who was sitting on the couch with an overly dramatic grin plastered on his face. The moment I sat down next to him, he leaned in, lowering his voice.

"So... you and Jungkook, huh?" Hoseok's tone was dripping with playful curiosity. "Did I just sense some serious tension there, or am I imagining things?"

I rolled my eyes, trying to act casual, though I could feel my cheeks warming up. "It's nothing. We're just working on a group project together."

Hoseok snorted, clearly unconvinced. "Yeah, sure. A group project. Is that what we're calling it now? What happened, huh? Did you two—" He paused, his eyes widening. "Wait, don't tell me you guys really kissed."

I froze, my heart skipping a beat as I glanced at Hoseok. I didn't need to say anything; the look on my face was enough to confirm his suspicions.

Hoseok gasped dramatically, his voice dropping even lower. "You did kiss! Oh my god, Y/N! I knew there was something going on between you two."

I nudged him with my elbow, whispering harshly, "Will you keep it down? My mom's right there."

Hoseok grinned, completely unbothered by my attempt to hush him. "How was it? Was it good? Was it like... you know, fireworks?"

I shot him a look. "Hoseok, seriously, now is not the time."

But Hoseok, being the relentless best friend he was, wasn't about to drop it. He leaned closer, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Come on, spill the tea. I've got to know. You can't just drop a bomb like that and expect me to stay quiet."

I sighed, knowing he wasn't going to let this go. "Fine," I muttered under my breath. "We kissed. "

Hoseok's grin widened. "And? How was it? You can't just say it happened and leave me hanging."

I glanced over at Jungkook, who was still talking with my mom, oblivious to the conversation Hoseok and I were having. "It was...something. he uhh you know?" i glanced down at my bottom area hinting him what had happened

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "OMYGOD! So, like... good or bad?"

I gave him a pointed look. "What do you think?"

Hoseok let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Wow. You and Jeon Jungkook. Who would've thought? The bad boy and the good girl. This is like some kind of drama."

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "Please, don't make this a thing."

"Oh, it's already a thing, Y/N," Hoseok teased, nudging me with his shoulder. "You're in deep now."

I glared at him, though I couldn't help but smile a little. "You're impossible."

Hoseok just laughed, but before he could say anything else, Jungkook walked over, finally free from my mom's grasp. He glanced at me and Hoseok, a curious look in his eyes, but didn't say anything. Instead, he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze briefly meeting mine before flicking away.

"You guys talking about something interesting?" Jungkook asked, his voice casual, but there was a hint of playfulness there.

Hoseok, of course, jumped on the opportunity. "Oh, nothing much. Just talking about how Y/N never brings anyone home. Guess you must be special, Jungkook."

I shot Hoseok a look, silently telling him to shut up, but he just grinned back at me, enjoying every second of this.

Jungkook smirked, his eyes locking with mine for a moment. "Yeah, I guess I am," he said, his tone teasing.

I rolled my eyes, feeling the heat rise to my face again. "Hobi, don't you have something else to do?"

Hoseok shrugged, standing up from the couch with a stretch. "Nah, I think I've caused enough trouble for one night. I'll leave you two to... whatever it is you're doing."

I watched as he sauntered off, but not before giving me a wink. I let out a breath, mentally preparing myself for the inevitable interrogation that would come from him later. But for now, I turned my attention back to Jungkook, who was still watching me with that same playful glint in his eyes.

"So," Jungkook said, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "You really couldn't stop talking about me, huh?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, crossing my arms defensively. "Don't get cocky, Jeon."

But he just grinned, clearly enjoying the effect he had on me. "Too late."

#rispwr #jungkook ff #bts #jungkook #bts x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff

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annaphoenix1994 · 2 months ago

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It Goes On - Simon Riley x OG Female Character Fanfiction Novel - Book l Masterlist 1 & 2

Assigned by Station Chief Kate Laswell, Case Officer Kiera Dutton is assigned to track and locate the missing American missiles as well as the threat of Quds Force Major Hassan Zyani. Befriending Ghost during her missions was not indeed part of her plan, but it was hard to ignore the reckoning that yearned for the other over time. How soon will Ghost let her break down his walls he had worked so hard to put up over the years? This will be no easy task, he would think. Boy, was he wrong! Yellowstone x Call of Duty Crossover! Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, songs, characters, businesses, places, events, locations, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner (Paramount Network and Activision Publishing). Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended for malicious use. Song inspiring this series: "It Goes On" by Zac Brown and Sir Rosevelt

Masterlist Below:

Part Two Masterlist:

Author's Interpretation of Characters

Aftershock

Borderline

Cartel Protection

Close Air

Interrogation

Reconnaissance

El Sin Nombre - 1

El Sin Nombre - 2

Devil's Deal

When the World Fades

Dark Water

Uncharted Territory

Whiskey Fever

Everlasting Lover

Something in the Orange

No Stone Unturned

Hell or High Water

Ain't Gonna Drown

Among Us

Silver Run

No Kindness for the Coward

White Flag

Beat

Aftermath

Homeward

Familiar Touch

Dutton Christmas - 1

Dutton Christmas - 2

Dutton Christmas - 3

The Storm

Yours

Touching Your Enemy

Friends Close, Enemies Closer

The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie

War Stories

Vague History

Tensions High

Sabotage

Black Powder Soul

Meaner Than Evil

Intertwine

Let Me Love You

Help From a Friend

Triangle Betrayal

No Mercy for the Coward

The Interrogation

By Your Grace

Fire Away

Grounded

Loose Ends

Plans

All I See is You

Letting Go

Double Trouble

Across the Pond

Granny Express

Valentine's Day

Distant Memories

Cut My Roots Away

Big Chief

Veruca Salt

Assurance

The Ball

No Russian - 1

No Russian - 2

Sound the Bugle

Violence and Timing

Home is Where You Are

The Night Terrors

MacTavish's Return

"Our World Just Got Better"

Nesting

Welcome to the World - 1

Welcome to the World - 2

Uncle Johnny

Family of Four

Preparations

Happy Birthday, Baby - 1

Happy Birthday, Baby - 2

The Perfect Ring

Price and Evie

Daddy's First Heartbreak

No Such Thing as Quick

British Teddy

Baler Harrison

A Mother's Touch

A Bitter Surprise - 1

A Bitter Surprise - 2

Rough Start

The First Stepping Stone

Antics

Thankful - Part 1

Thankful - Part 2

Ghost the Brat Tamer

Christmas Plans

Baler's First Christmas

"You Keep Me Sane; I Keep You Wild"

Baler Riley

To be continued... (Masterlist 2 above)

#simonghostriley #simonriley #simon riley #simon ghost riley #call of duty #cod ghost #call of duty modern warfare #ghost cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare 2 #callofduty #cod modern warfare #cod #ghost cod mw2 #cod mw2 ghost #ghost mw2 #mw2 #ghost call of duty

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mothandpidgeon · 3 months ago

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Nine Lives (witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader) - Part 2

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader

rating: T (evenual E) MDNI

summary: As you came into your powers and your curves filled in, Ezra realized he feelings for you were more than just affection. The only problem? He's a 300 year old cursed witch. Oh, and he's a cat.

contents: age gap (like 300 years), alcohol, jealousy, angst, slow burn, yearning, probably anachronistic witchy stuff, love triangle (quadrangle?), Ezra is a cat, he won't be forever, this isnt a beastiality thing, moth never uses y/n.

wc: 3.4k

a/n: Thank you to everyone that read part 1!! I'm so pleased that you're enjoying it so far! I really would've liked to let this part simmer a little longer but I'm holding myself to this publishing schedule. It's time to yeet this into the world. I'd love to know what you think. Your comments and reblogs give me so much joy!

Thank you @lowlights for the beta and help with witchy stuff. Thank you @moonlitbirdie @schnarfer and @whocaresstillthelouvre for listening to me bitch about this and supporting me always.

“Don’t you look nice,” Aunt Margot says.

You’re putting the finishing touches on your make up in the Page’s office. Usually you’d go back upstairs but you don’t feel like hearing it from Ezra.

“Thanks. I have a date,” you say, packing your mascara in your purse.

“Oh,” she replies, not hiding her disappointment in the slightest.

You hadn’t intended to see Connor again but when he texted you, you couldn’t think of a good reason not to. He invited you to his place to check out his vinyl collection which sounds like an insufferable version of Netflix and Chill but you have no plans to listen to a single record. You just want to fuck in his bed and avoid any drama with Ezra.

“Well I hope you’ll put as much effort in for the equinox,” she says. She flips the sign in the door from open to closed then snaps her fingers to turn off the overhead lights.

You and Margot host the coven for the equinox each year which already means extra preparations in addition to work at the bookshop.

“Why would I do that?” you ask. You don’t wear make up for moon rituals, don’t wear much of anything at all.

“Esme is bringing River,” she says with a casual shrug.

“No” you groan.

“He’s visiting from Ireland,” she tells you.

The last time you saw Esme’s grandson you were both in high school. River was built like a string bean, his upper lip dusted with the saddest mustache— if you could even call it that. He reeked of some badly brewed potion that was supposed to attract lovers. You still gagged when you smelled licorice root.

“Good for him,” you say. “Please do not set me up with River.”

“I’m not a matchmaker, dear. I’m just trying to expand your sexual horizons,” Margot replies.

Suddenly, Connor’s vinyls don’t sound so bad after all.

—

Ezra pads through crystals and altar bells. Everything’s been laid out on Aunt Margot’s paisley scarves— scrying bowls and athame blades and jars of rain water all waiting to be charged by the moon of the autumn equinox.

It’s just after midnight and the witches of your coven are gathered in a small clearing far enough into the woods that stray mortals won’t stumble upon them. The air smells fresh and cold like mountain spring water. A bonfire crackles, layered with herbs and pine needles.

The waning moon feels heavy and close like it might just fall out of the sky and nick Ezra’s ear. It makes him feel uneasy. Then again, it’s hard to enjoy these rituals when he can’t participate the way he once did.

Ezra watches you offer mulled wine to Esme and River, steaming cups scented with cinnamon balanced on an antique silver tray. You look beautiful in your simple white dress. It glows in the moonlight and he can see your body silhouetted beneath the fabric of its long skirt by the fire.

He’s never cared much for Esme but, then again, he doesn’t have many kind words for any of the Elders even if the ones that cursed him are long dead. Even if he deserved that curse. She wears her long hair coiled on top of her head, a jade hair pin perched in its nest the same way her familiar, a tired old owl, watches from the branch of one of the trees.

Ezra’s attention isn’t with Esme tonight. He’s keeping a close eye on her grandson.

“He totally sucks. Please don’t leave me alone with him,” you’d implored.

Ezra would be wary of him whether or not you’d asked. River is nothing like how you’ve remembered him to Ezra. He must’ve done a lot of growing up since your last encounter. Tall and lean with thick waves of auburn hair. He’s the kind of witch that even Ezra would have taken to bed when he was human.

He sees the way River looks at you, watches him turn the charm on as he smiles. River’s eyes travel down your body and Ezra knows exactly what he sees. Waves of hot jealousy consume Ezra from nose to tail. For a moment, he worries he’ll get another thousand years added on to his sentence.

After some small talk, Esme wanders away and that's Ezra’s cue. He slinks up between you and River, rubbing up against your legs to let you know he’s ready to bail you out.

River swallows his drink with a chuckle.

“That tastes just how I remember it. Me and Moss used to sneak glasses of Ariadne’s mulled wine when we were thirteen,” he explains.

“Me too. Although I’m pretty sure Margot knew,” you say with a laugh.

“Little mage, you asked me to fetch you when the oils were ready,” Ezra says.

“Oh,” you say, throwing a self conscious smile at River. “I’ll go in a minute, Ez.”

“Margot could use your assistance,” Ezra adds.

“Why don’t you go help her and I’ll be there soon,” you suggest.

Ezra can’t help but glare up at River.

“Would that I had opposable thumbs,” he responds.

You laugh. River doesn’t. You crouch down and glide your hand down Ezra’s spine.

“It’s okay, Ez. I’m good,” you tell him and you wink at him.

His blood turns molten as you turn back to River and continue your conversation. He wants to hiss and claw at him, draw blood. It feels like you’re slipping through his fingers not that he ever held a claim. Not that he even has fingers anymore. He’s completely powerless, standing at your feet like the dumb animal he is.

Rather than watch you moony over River, Ezra turns away and slinks off to the edge of the gathering to sulk. The fire’s warmth doesn’t quite reach and he presses back his ears to stave off autumn’s chill. He can’t run off into the woods the way he’d like to, not without raising questions from the other witches, make you look like you can’t control your familiar.

He can’t stop his eyes from wandering back to you. Your head thrown back in laughter, your hand on River’s forearm. Each moment of your joy is like a knife in his heart.

Ezra’s eventually relegated to the circle where the familiars commiserate. River’s is a jet black bird named Rhea who turns her beak up at him. He’s not one of them, not really. He was human himself with a familiar of his own but that’s not the only reason why they scorn him. They all know that he’s the worst kind of witch.

There are many reasons why a witch might be turned into a cat but there’s only one crime that was punished with 1000 years— murder. And not just any murder. Ezra desecrated the life of another witch and, no matter how loyally he serves you, he’ll always have that stain.

The rituals are done, the chanting. The embers from the fire float up through the trees towards the fat moon. Then the dancing begins. It’s erratic and joyful, Ezra can remember the ecstasy of it in his bones. Esme lets down her white hair and one by one the witches disrobe.

He hears your laughter as you spin, shoulders shrugging with the pulse of the magic that swirls around the bonfire.

He knows he shouldn’t look at you like that. Not you. Not here. You’re not putting on a show, you’re doing your magic. But the way your body moves against the glow of the fire is its own enchantment. He could worship you like the moon.

The spell is broken just as quickly. River’s right beside you, bare skin radiant, muscles rippling with his own rhythm. His fingers tangle with yours and Ezra feels acid in his throat.

The whole night becomes an assault on his senses. The sound of chanting rises, the old words frantic and savage. Amber and patchouli mix with the woodsmoke to choke him. Grotesque shadows fall over the faces of the witches like a carnival of horrors. And then there’s you— incandescent and naked and whispering something in River’s ear that has him grinning. Ezra’s hair stands on end.

“Come dance with me!” you giggle as you leave the circle of merriment. Your teeth are stained purple, drunk on wine and magic.

“I’m quite content here,” Ezra lies.

“Are you having fun?” You ask but you don’t wait for his answer. “River is…wow. He did not look like that when we were kids.”

You pick Ezra up and whirl around in a circle. He smells the incense of your skin, the alcohol on your breath.

“You’re going to get your wish. I’m finally going to fuck a proper witch!” you say.

You toss Ezra in the air and catch him. The bile has come so far up his throat it’s an absolutely nauseating sensation.

“Enough!” Ezra hisses. He swats at you with his claws bared.

You yelp and drop him. Before he even hits the ground, he feels it— a searing hot pain that makes his back arch. You’re defending yourself with your powers like a reflex. He lets out a yowl and just as quickly it passes.

Ezra staggers and looks up to find you with tears in your eyes. He’s never seen you looking so hurt, betrayed. Your jaw quivers. Ezra landed on his feet but he feels upside down. He’s realizing what he’s just done, that he tried to hurt you because he’s pathetic. Jealous.

“Ez,” you say, your voice strangled.

Like a coward, he takes off, ignoring you as you call after him.

—

It’s the sound of the cat flap that wakes you sometime after sunrise. You’re sprawled out on your bed, head aching, eyes swollen. You’re still wearing your white dress, you threw it on before going after Ezra but it was no use. He was as black as the shadows in the forest and had slipped away under some bushes.

You abandoned the equinox celebration and went home in hopes he’d be there. You waited. Alone with your guilt and anxiety.

I’m sorry. Please come home. You were never very good at telepathy but you tried to reach out to him with your thoughts.

The sound that he made echoed through your mind as you paced the floor. Strangled, terrified. You tried to stop yourself from picturing him out there in the dark shaking with pain.

You hadn’t meant to hurt him. It was involuntary. As soon as his claw grazed your skin, your powers flared. Maybe if you hadn’t been drunk you could’ve controlled it. It happened so quickly you still can’t be sure of how strong it hit him.

Even if it was just a momentary shock, you saw just how much damage that moment did. His hair standing on end, his tail rod straight. But what really crushed you was the look in his eye.

Suddenly you were just as horrible as every other witch that he’d served. You’d used your powers to punish him, to harm him. Every promise you’d ever made to him had broken in that instant.

You see Ezra’s slim form dart to your doorway. In a flash, he slips under the bed and your heart sinks into your ankles.

“Ez,” you say, your voice ragged from the night’s festivities.

He doesn’t answer. You press your eyes shut and swallow hard then crawl to the edge of your mattress. Your stomach lurches as you look over the edge. On top of everything else there’s a hangover churning in your gut. You guess you deserve that, too.

“Ezra, are you ok?” you ask. Whatever words of atonement you pieced together before you cried yourself to sleep have dissolved.

He’s in the furthest corner beneath the bed, tucked against the wall with his tail wrapped tight around his body. You think you might burst into tears again seeing him cowering away from you.

“I hope I didn’t make you fret,” he says.

You want to scoop him into your arms and hold him as tight as you can but it feels like you’ve lost that privilege.

“I’m so sorry, Ez,” you say, climbing down to the floor. “I shouldn’t have done that. I'm sick over it.”

“You were well within your rights. You’re my master and I struck you,” he says. “I’m the one that should beg forgiveness.”

To hear him call you his master makes you feel even worse than before. There’s no amount of tuna belly that will make this right.

“No. It was my fault. And I promise I’ll never use my powers on you again. Ever,” you say.

His gold eyes shift away.

“Keep your apologies,” he says. “And I see I’ve kept you from your new paramour. Another act to add to my contrition.”

“I don’t care about that.” If you hadn’t been so caught up in the prospect of taking River to bed, none of this would’ve happened.

“Nonsense, little mage. You’re a witch. Be with other witches,” Ezra says.

–

River’s in the bookshop when you arrive, standing opposite Aunt Margot. When you couldn’t convince Ezra to come out from under the bed, you decided to give him space. Maybe you could distract yourself re-alphabetizing the cookbooks. You were hoping for some quiet but you’re confronted by the very attractive witch you’d been flirting shamelessly with the night before.

You know you look a mess, your face still feels puffy. River, on the other hand, looks like the definition of a sight for sore eyes. Freshly showered and dressed in a well pressed shirt that’s rolled up to the elbows, the sun is streaming in the front window outlining his still-damp hair like he’s Prince Charming himself.

“There you are!” Margot calls.

You smooth your hand across your top nervously as she appraises you. You threw on a more than slightly wrinkled shirt that was languishing on the floor of your bedroom, too preoccupied to put together a real outfit.

“Looks like we had too much of Ariadne’s little potion,” she says.

“I have a tonic that’s great for that,” River says with a smile. “But coffee’s faster.”

He hands you a steaming paper cup from the cafe down the street. He and Margot have their own perched on the counter. You take a sip and are surprised to find that it’s your regular order.

”Are you clairvoyant, too?” You ask.

River blushes. “Nah. Margot told me how you take your coffee,” he chuckles.

It's so thoughtful and you’re not feeling very deserving. You swallow down a lump in your throat.

“I wanted to go foraging around here but I really need a local,” he says.

“That sounds fun,” you say half heartedly in an attempt to demure. You’re not really up for a good time but it feels like a real asshole move to turn River down considering he brought you coffee after you ditched him at the bonfire. Margot is beaming at the register.

“Doesn’t it?” she asks. “Why don’t I get you a basket?”

—

River carries the basket now overflowing with mushrooms and wild herbs. You’re deep in the woods, branches crunching beneath your shoes. Nature’s sounds echo around you, starlings and chipmunks, the constant whoosh of the breeze through the turning leaves.

This path is overgrown but you know it well. You spent your childhood getting lost in these woods. They have their own magic.

Your guilt overshadows the date. If it is a date. River seems to think it is if the way the back of his hand keeps brushing against yours is any sign. It’s hard to enjoy it especially when your mind keeps drifting off. He doesn’t seem to notice that you’re only half-listening as he tells you just how mystical the vibes are at Stonehenge.

You stop at a stream, sitting on a fallen tree that’s overgrown with moss. It’s one of your favorite spots. The water sparkles where the sunlight spills though the branches, peacefully trickling over rocks. You pick up one of the smooth stones and trace its wet surface with your thumb.

You’ve sat in this very spot before feeling just as shitty. Heartbroken then, too, trying to figure out if you could call it a break up when you hadn’t actually been anything official. She hadn’t wanted anything complicated and you swore your feelings wouldn’t get involved. Unfortunately they had their own plans.

Ezra found you there, sulking by the stream, wondering if anyone would think you were worth breaking their own rules for.

It struck you how quiet he was. There were no anecdotes about what the witch scene was like in 1924 or tips for mouse hunting, indoor versus outdoor. He just padded into the water and nudged a little stone towards your feet. It was just big enough to fit in your palm and it was cool against your skin as you held it there.

“A thing of beauty,” he said and he head butted your shins affectionately.

It was. Round from years, maybe decades under the water’s friction. A dull gray cut through the middle by a wedge of some crystalline mineral like shards of broken glass. You recall exactly what it looks like because it still sits on your night stand. Each time you see it you’re reminded of how Ezra slumped down beside you, his warm body weight like a cozy blanket, a faint purr reverberating through him.

“You’ve got a big heart, little mage,” he said.

You choke up at the memory, unsure if Ezra would ever think that again. You certainly wouldn’t say it about yourself today.

“Either you’re really hungover or something’s bothering you,” River says gently.

You laugh tearfully and he rubs a circle on your back. You try to shake your head but River doesn’t give it up, looking at you with a soft concern.

“I really fucked things up with Ezra last night,” you admit. Telling him what a cruel witch you are might be a huge turn off but the feeling of his palm through your shirt makes you feel at ease.

“Ezra?” he asks.

“My familiar,” you remind him.

“Oh.”

“He scratched me and —”

“He hurt you?” he asks, face painted with righteous indignation.

“No. He barely got me. I totally overreacted,” you say. “I used my powers on him. It was just a reflex, you know? But…I just feel awful.”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” he tells you with a relieved chuckle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

If that’s true then why do you hate yourself?

“If Rhea was out of line I’d do the same,” he goes on.

You wince at the thought.

“You’d hurt her?” you ask.

He shrugs. “I’ve never had to. She knows who’s boss.”

You’ve always considered Ezra a partner. Of course, there are plenty of witches that think of their familiars as nothing more than servants. It’s an old school way of seeing it. You hadn’t expected River to use words that remind you of the way your grandmother used to talk.

“Maybe it’s different,” you say, trying to give him the opportunity to walk it back. Ezra’s not like Rhea. Maybe you’d feel the same way River does if your familiar hadn’t once been as human as you are. Still, it doesn’t feel right.

“You’re a funny little witch,” he says with a grin.

“What does that mean?” you ask.

“Crying over your familiar. It’s sweet.” He says it as if it’s a compliment but the condescension makes you frown in disgust.

“If you want to make it up to him, why don’t you find him a lady cat that can make him feel good,” he adds with a laugh.

“Is that what you’re into?” you ask with venom.

“What? That was a joke,” River says.

“I don’t think it’s funny. You know, just because Ezra’s a familiar, it doesn’t mean he should be treated like shit. And he’s not a cat. He’s a human,” you tell him.

“He’s a witch killer,” River spits back. “So I’m sorry if I don’t have a lot of sympathy for him.”

Your stomach turns. It’s the truth. Ezra’s served as a familiar in your family for centuries, his history has never been hidden from you and he’s never shied away from it.

But his punishment has never made sense to you. A thousand years, so many lifetimes, watching his friends and family die as he toiled in servitude for witches as backwards as River. It’s cruel, that’s why the Elders changed the laws years ago. And yet Ezra’s remained a cat, a familiar, disdained.

Suddenly, the anger you’ve been tormenting yourself with turns outwards and you think your powers could set fire to the dry leaves at your feet. It’s all so unfair. The Elders turned him and witches like River scorn him and none of them feel a lick of shame. The back of your neck heats with a protective rage.

“He’s my friend,” you choke. “And you’re a fucking asshole.”

And you leave River speechless in the middle of the woods.

🐈‍⬛

Part 3

Thanks for reading! Comments and reblogs appreciated! My inbox is always open.

#ezra prospect #ezra x f!reader #witchy #ezra prospect x f!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #ezra x witch!reader #halloween

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will80sbyers · 6 months ago

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Byler endgame parallels GIFs masterpost:

Byler & Rovickie parallels

Byler Vs. M*leven - Stupid & Crazy code + Jopper

Byler & M*leven contrasting parallels

Mike reacting in the same way for El & Will

Byler, Lumax, Jancy find their lovers + El saves herself

M*leven/St*ncy/Boyce/Tedren kiss at the start of the season = not compatible enough

M*leven/St*ncy parallels -> it's not true love

St*ncy & Mil*ven fight "What is wrong with you?"

Mike/Ted/Steve parallels

Byler & Jopper parallel in s3

Byler & Jopper parallels

Byler/Jopper/Rovickie looking at the love interest

Mike and El don't understand each other anymore

All the couples holding hands in the show

Byler & M*leven: Understanding each other Vs. Not

Mike grieving for Will & El in the same way

Mike hearing Will & El on the radio when they are missing

Mike thinks Will & El died and then gets a hug from his mom

Will & El lose consciousness and Mike is worried for them

Mike fights someone to defend Will & El

Mike is worried for Will & El after something UD related happens

Mike makes the same love expression looking at El & Will

Byler & Jancy: the Byers make the Wheelers smile

Byler & Jopper: Joyce and Mike romantic moment + guilt

Byler & Jopper: Hopper and Will look at Joyce and Mike from a distance

M*leven & Stancy: something romantic happens to you when your best friend is being killed

Byler/Jancy/Jopper: roadtrip together looking for someone

St*ncy/M*leven/Boyce: make out at the start of the season because they are not compatible long term

Mike & others trying to change themselves and seem cool for their partners -> not true love / not working out

M*leven/Jancy/Lumax/Jopper/Byler: denying a romantic implication

The interruption trope being used for all the romantic couples

Willelmike love triangle framing

Byler & Jancy parallels part 1

Byler & Jancy parallels part 2

Byler/Jancy/Jopper/Lumax talk about killing the monsters

Love triangle framing + El breaking free from it

Byler/Jancy/Jopper/Lumax sharing a nice moment together... near a vehicle

Byler & Lumax parallels part 1

Byler & Lumax parallels part 2

Byler/Lumax/Jopper thinking they lost someone they love

El choosing to leave Mike behind

Steve/Dustin/Mike idealizing someone they think they love

to continue...

BYLER PARALLELS WITH OTHER SHOWS & MOVIES :

HEARTSTOPPER

Byler & Nick X Charlie parallels

Mike is trying to look cool for El and not being himself like Tao was briefly

Nick's speech about heteronormativity fits Mike and his behaviour on the show

HALF BAD

The same framing of the queer love triangles

I AM NOT OKAY WITH THIS

Byler parallel to Sydney x Dina: 3rd wheel at the date

Possible parallel

Another byler X sydina parallel

PARALLELS FROM THE IT SAGA

Byler & Benverly

PARALLELS WITH EMMA 2020

Best friends to lovers

PARALLEL WITH HARRY POTTER AND THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS

The awkward hug

THE LAST OF US

Ellie X Riley & Byler in the crazy together scene

#byler #byler parallels #byler parallels masterpost #anti mileven #anti stancy #I will update this when i have all the other GIFs ready #I did not find all of these parallels #just some #but I wanted to have a collection ready!#just a recap #not taking any credit obviously #stranger things #mike wheeler #will byers #el hopper byers

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violettathepiratequeen · 16 days ago

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The Writers of BtVS

So because I'm a nerd, and because I was curious, I compiled a list of the credited Buffy writers and their episodes, mostly to check for their own consistency, haha. And because I thought it was interesting enough to share:

WRITERS:

Joss Whedon

Welcome to the Hellmouth

The Harvest

Nightmares (with David Greenwalt)

Out of Mind, Out of Sight (with Ashley Gable and Thomas A. Swyden)

Prophecy Girl

When She Was Bad

School Hard (with David Greenwalt)

Lie to Me

Ted (with David Greenwalt)

Innocence

Becoming, Part 1

Becoming, Part 2

Anne

Amends

Doppelgangland

Graduation Day, Part 1

Graduation Day, Part 2

The Freshman

Hush

Who Are You?

Restless

Family

The Body

The Gift

Once More With Feeling

Lessons

Chosen

Dana Reston

Witch

David Greenwalt

Teacher’s Pet

Angel

Nightmares (with Joss Whedon)

School Hard (with Joss Whedon)

Reptile Boy

Ted (with Joss Whedon)

Faith, Hope, and Trick

Homecoming

Rob Des Hotel & Dean Batali

Never Kill a Boy on the First Date

The Puppet Show

The Dark Age

Phases

Killed By Death

Matt Kiene

The Pack

Inca Mummy Girl (with Joe Reinkemeyer)

Ashley Gable and Thomas A. Swyden

I, Robot… You, Jane

Out of Mind, Out of Sight (with Joss Whedon)

Ty King

Some Assembly Required

Passion

Joe Reinkemeyer

Inca Mummy Girl (with Matt Kiene)

Carl Ellsworth

Halloween

Howard Gordon

What’s My Line? Part 1 (with Marti Noxon)

Marti Noxon

What’s My Line? Part 1 (with Howard Gordon)

What’s My Line? Part 2

Bad Eggs

Surprise

Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered

I Only Have Eyes For You

Dead Man’s Party

Beauty and the Beasts

The Wish

Consequences

The Prom

Living Conditions

Wild at Heart

Doomed (with David Fury and Jane Espenson)

Goodbye Iowa

New Moon Rising

Buffy vs. Dracula

Into the Woods

Forever

Bargaining, Part 1

Wrecked

Villains

Bring on the Night (with Douglas Petrie)

Elin Hampton

Go Fish (with David Fury)

David Fury

Go Fish (with Elin Hampton)

Helpless

Choices

Fear Itself

Doomed (with Marti Noxon and Jane Espenson)

The I in Team

Primeval

Real Me

Shadow

Crush

Bargaining, Part 2

Life Serial (with Jane Espenson)

Gone

Grave

Sleeper (with Jane Espenson)

Showtime

Lies My Parents Told Me (with Drew Goddard)

Thania St. John

Gingerbread (with Jane Espenson)

Jane Espenson

Band Candy

Gingerbread (with Thania St. John)

Earshot

The Harsh Light of Day

Pangs

Doomed (with David Fury and Marti Noxon)

A New Man

Superstar

The Replacement

Triangle

Checkpoint (with Douglas Petrie)

I Was Made to Love You

Intervention

After Life

Flooded (with Douglas Petrie)

Life Serial (with David Fury)

Doublemeat Palace

Same Time, Same Place

Conversations with Dead People (with Drew Goddard)

Sleeper (with David Fury)

First Date

Storyteller

End of Days (with Douglas Petrie)

Douglas Petrie

Revelations

Bad Girls

Enemies

The Initiative

This Year’s Girl

The Yoko Factor

No Place Like Home

Fool For Love

Checkpoint (with Jane Espenson)

The Weight of the World

Flooded (with Jane Espenson)

As You Were

Two to Go

Beneath You

Bring on the Night (with Marti Noxon)

Get it Done

End of Days (with Jane Espenson)

Dan Vebber

Lovers Walk

The Zeppo

Tracey Forbes

Beer Bad

Something Blue

Rebecca Rand Kirshner

Out of My Mind

Listening to Fear

Tough Love

Tabula Rasa

Hell’s Bells

Help

Potential

Touched

Steven S. DeKnight

Blood Ties

Spiral

All the Way

Dead Things

Seeing Red

Drew Z. Greenberg

Smashed

Older and Far Away

Entropy

Him

The Killer in Me

Empty Places

Diego Gutierrez

Normal Again

Drew Goddard

Selfless

Conversations with Dead People (with Jane Espenson)

Never Leave Me

Lies My Parents Told Me (with David Fury)

Dirty Girls

So the conclusion I've come to is... in my own fanfic writing projects, I sometimes have works that I know are very good and are received well. And there are some that I know just stink, and the lower interaction reflects it. It's pretty comforting to know that for professional writers, the same thing is true.

Jane Espenson, for instance, beloved by Spuffies everywhere for being our man on the inside, ALSO co-wrote "Gingerbread," my least favorite ep ever.

Douglas Petrie is, in my opinion, absolutely an undercover Spuffy, or at least understood the assignment well enough to fake it. And I love him for being the first to write Wesley, for breaking Bangel up one of the times in S3, for writing "Fool for Love," for strengthening Spike's character in every ep that included him.

And David Fury... look, I know he gets a lot of flack, but I think he doesn't actually hate Spike as much as it seems. Looking at his list of episodes and the messages I know to be in them, I think he's just VERY pro-soul, and can't wrap his head around a vampire being good without one. But once Spike does get his soul... well, we need look no further than "Showtime."

But really, let's all bow down to Rebecca Rand Kirshner. For "Out of My Mind." For "Tabula Rasa." For "Help." For "Touched." For some of the sweetest Spuffy moments in all her other eps.

#buffy #btvs #spuffy #spike #writers #writing #writer things #buffy slays

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bahrtofane · 1 year ago

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just your luck to have your favorite study spot taken, even if he’s cute, you’ve decided you’re enemies now. jude thinks other wise

word cout - 800+

watch it - puff fluff and silliness

-----

5.43 pm, 4th floor library. partly cloudy but pleasant early october day. not cold enough just yet for snow but chilly enough for cute sweaters.

halloween is just around the corner, then thanksgiving. winter break is so close ! life is good. great even. smooth sailing. you have a celebratory donut from the cafe downstairs in one hand, and chai in the other. a little treat for the exam you just finished.

you hum a song aimlessly under your breath as you maneuver around students and staff to get to your place.

it’s a hidden jem. up on the top floor, allll the way back in the farthest left corner lies a tiny nook with a bean bag that overlooks campus in the prettiest way. Large triangle window with tiny little details in its fixtures. it’s quiet, calm, and you actually get work done there.

no ever comes up and it’s peace between the hectic campus life and extreme party culture. you're thinking of maybe just getting comfy and watching a movie today. a blanket would be nice, you could bring one next time, that one that-

your train of thought is derailed faster than it can recover.

your safe haven has been invaded.

there’s a man ! in your spot !! uhg.

you can't believe it after almost half a semester of serenity the one thing you had is ripped away from you. mid chai, donut and all. the cruelty of the world has never seemed more apparent. you are reminded again that as soon as you can get comfortable, your ripped away and thrown back to reality.

are you being dramatic ? yes. do you care ? no

the audacity of some people.

you know logically this isn’t your spot. it’s in the public library where any student can sit and it’s good to share, morals are good. but holy fuck do you hope the guy who’s all cozied up has a fantastic time and maybe trips out the window.

you resort to having to use a table like some commoner.

——-

day 2, 4:30 pm. 4th floor. this time, you're sure everything was just a fluke and you’ll be back in business in no time. comfy cozy spot with pretty window.

your inner peace gets squashed as yet again, your spot is being occupied. this time you need to look into the eyes of the criminal.

you choose a seat facing the bean bag and set up shop to judge and send him bad vibes.

unexpectedly, he’s pretty cute even from far away. handsome even. he’s got one of those faces people remember, his features sit so nice and the way he’s basically burying his face into a text book is a little cute you won’t lie. but this doesn’t change anything.

he’s your enemy. regardless if he’s aware of it or not.

you soon tune him about in favor of getting work done, but don’t miss the occasional glaces he gives you.

how interesting.

——-

your friends tell you this is the start of some enemies to lovers after you fill them in. but you don’t agree.

especially now that it's the 3rd time.

you think he’s quite stupid. no amount of pretty smiles and shy glances is going to change the fact that he stole your special once secret library spot. he’s ruined your life ! this is the third time he’s done so. there’s no way you're going to forgive this behavior.

never mind you don’t know his name or the fact that you’ll most likely never talk to him. your rage runs deep, silent and personal.

you hope his socks are wet for the next month.

you might even start a diary just to be able to complain about him in a stupid amount of detail. whatever.

you spend the next hour or so typing a little aggressively while hoping he bursts into flames or disappears. funny enough, while you take a little social media break, you look up to find him gone. it would be good riddance, expect for the fact that he appears in front of you not a moment later.

“um, hi?” are the timid words that come from him. his voice does not match the face wow.

though, he’s even more attractive up close.

“hello? can i help you?” you try

“yeah um, actually. i wanna apologize.”

your left in awe. is he going to apologize for his thievery? is the criminal going to confess his guilt. is this the end of your rage.

“ i know the bean bag is your spot because you come in at the same time i do and always use it. “

you narrow your eyes, “so you decided to take it because?”

he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, “um actually i just think you’re really cute and couldn’t think of another excuse to talk to you. my bad.”

“for the record i’m still very mad you took my spot. “ you sigh, not really though. You just like to be drammtic, but he eats it right up. cute.

he nods quickly. “understood. how about i take you out to make up for it ?”

you hum, “i’d like that. “

he smiles, “great. can i get your number to plan it out ?”

“mhm”

and with that your left with your spot now yours again. and a blooming possibility on the horizon.

#jude fluff #jude x you #jude bellingham #jude x reader #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #football headcanon #football imagine #football fanfic

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strzlun · 6 months ago

Text

FATAL TROUBLE (series)

// sim jake, park sunghoon //

-VAMPIRE AU-

•pairing(s): vampire!jake x first love!femreader x vampire!sunghoon

~summary- Your first love will always haunt and linger even if there may be no recollection of it ever existing, they’ll always just ultimately cause fatal trouble in the end.

-genre/cws- vampire au, angst, fluff, fated lovers, love triangle, different/past time periods, past memories, lucid dreams(dejavú), etc. (more within ‘chapters’/stories)

-status- currently working on…

-taglist(open)- send an ask or comment to be added!! <3

________________________________________________________

[1]

{MONSTER}

-pairing: vampire!jake x first love!femreader

•read here

[2]

{SACRIFICE}

-pairing: human!sunghoon x vampire!femreader

•read here

[3]

{DILEMMA}

-pairing(s): vampire!jake x first love!femreader x vampire!sunghoon

•read here

[4]

{FATE}

-pairing(s): vampire!jake x first love!femreader x vampire!sunghoon

•read here

________________________________________________________

taglist- @immelissaaa @strxwbloody @firstclassjaylee @nshmrarki @caravm @papichulomacy @doublebunv @soobnuuy @hveanlyanqelic @lol6sposts @stormy1408

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starmapz · 8 months ago

Text

shame on me || chapter three || hard fought

gojo satoru x female vessel reader

❝gojo satoru is the strongest sorcerer. when you come along with power to match his own, his responsibility to the world gets the best of him and his first impression is poor to say the least. when he needs your help, by some miracle you're too kind to deny him. or maybe he's just manipulative enough to convince you. either way, you're stuck training his student, a vessel like you. what could possibly go wrong?❞

warnings || 18+ only. contains explicit content. enemies to lovers. extreme angst. graphic descriptions of injury and death. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. fluff. major character death. anxiety. panic attacks. extreme slow burn. eventual smut. p in v. oral (f! and m! receiving). praise. overstimulation. unprotected. fingering. mating press. slight nanami x reader. happy ending!

additional tags || gojo is a dumbass but very lovable. very very very minor love triangle, will not be a main theme. no competing. takes place after season 2. au where gojo is not sealed and the shibuya incident does not go down the same. nanami is alive. choso is around. no major manga spoilers but will contain themes and ideas touched on later.

wc || 7.9k.

edited but not beta-read.

series masterlist || main masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

You wake with a jolt to a loud knock on your door, lifting a hand to rub sleep from your eyes. Was it early? Why were you so groggy? You spare a glance at your phone, letting out a deep sigh as you realize it’s nine in the morning. You usually would have been awake by now but yesterday had been long, so you would forgive yourself for sleeping in. Pushing yourself out of bed, you throw on an oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweats, grabbing your sunglasses from the table to answer your door. Even behind your sunglasses, you squint as the sun greets you when you open your door.

You grimace at the sight of none other than Gojo, adorned in his usual black jacket and that frustrating grin.

“Well, don’t you look ready for your first lesson? Wait-!” Gojo reaches out to stop you from slamming the door in his face, narrowly missing his window to do so as you close and lock the door.

Gojo could wait. After all, he hadn’t given you a time to be awake, nor any opportunity to prepare for teaching. Allowing yourself time to quickly shower and throw on a cute black dress and light makeup, you finally open the door again with a coffee in-hand. Gojo had sat on your front step, his chin rested on the heel of his palm, propped up on his leg.

“That was rude,” he mumbles.

You shoot him a sharp glare. “Don’t talk to me about being rude,” you grumble, waving your hand in the air as a signal for him to lead the way.

Without hesitation, he hops to his feet as his familiar devil-may-care attitude returns. Somehow, the sorcerer never seemed phased by your words, frustrating you to no end.

“Listen, Gojo,” your tone is serious as you catch up with him. He tilts his head towards you to indicate that you have his attention. “To be honest, I don’t love the idea of working with you,” your statement earns a hum from Gojo, “but I’m willing to have a professional relationship with you for the sake of the school.” His smirk falters for only a moment. “If you can respect that, then please fill me in.”

Taking on a more serious tone, Gojo’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. He continues his stride towards his cabin as he begins, “Yuji Itadori, first year. He learns fast. No technique but he’s skilled in hand-to-hand combat.” Gojo shoves his hands in his pockets as he continues. “He’s got potential, but after the Shibuya incident, the higher-ups are pushing for his execution more by the day.”

You swallow uncomfortably at the thought. He was just a kid, how could anyone push for his execution?

“I agree,” he hums, catching the small action as if reading your mind. “He ate enough fingers that Sukuna was able to take control. He wiped out more people than the special grade attackers did on that night, or even Geto-” he pauses, “-all those years ago.” You nod slowly, remembering the incident in question. “He’s still coming to terms with that. Blames himself,” he grimaces. “I think he could benefit from lessons from someone like you.”

Though you can’t see his eyes behind his blindfold, you feel his gaze on you. Gojo makes his way past his cabin, maneuvering through the trees.

“Like me, huh?” You sigh quietly. You can only pray that you can be the help Yuji needs, but you wouldn’t know until you tried. “Anything else I should know?”

“Sukuna can see and hear everything, as far as I can tell,” he shrugs, running a hand through his white hair. “He’s got his own agenda, but you can probably try talking to him. He answers once in a while.”

You nod. That wasn’t unusual, as far as you knew. Miriko could hear and see everything unless you chose to suppress her, though you figured Yuji didn’t have experience in doing so. Miriko had taught you that skill as a defense mechanism to keep people with their own cursed energy away. People like Gojo. You could likely teach the skill to Yuji in due time.

Striding across a small clearing in the trees, a young boy with salmon hair rises to his feet to meet you. His uniform isn’t unlike Gojo’s, though he has a red hood in replacement of the black collar. He straightens as he formally introduces himself. “You must be y/n-Sensei,” he says with a look of determination.

You chuckle at the formality of it all. “No need to be so formal,” you smile and he seems to relax a bit. A feeling of dread bubbles in the pit of your stomach as you notice the scar across his face and on his lip. He was so young, yet it seemed like he had already been through so much. Not to mention the guilt Gojo had mentioned.

“Gojo said you’re a vessel too, right?” Yuji asks with an excited grin, fiddling with the worn wood of the small picnic table as he intently focuses on your every word. Even with the life-or-death situation Gojo had given you the unfortunate responsibility of, his excitement was heartwarming and endearing.

“I am,” you confirm, glancing towards Gojo who had taken a seat at the other end of the picnic table as he quietly observed. “Am I safe to have Miriko take over here?”

“That’s why we’re out here,” he confirms with a grin and a thumbs up. He leans forward on his elbow, intently observing your every move. It didn’t take a genius to know that Gojo had ulterior motives beyond simply helping Yuji. He wanted to know just how to take you down. How to kill you. You knew better than to reveal your whole hand, however.

You close your eyes, letting Miriko take control as your hair shifts into a silver matching her mane. Her piercing red eyes glow from behind your glasses as she opens them and takes in her surroundings, her pupils small as she focuses on Gojo. He meets her gaze in a mental stand-off between them before she finally turns her attention to Itadori, observing his quiet wonder.

“Wait, so, are you…?” Itadori poses his question with wide eyes.

“Yes. My name is Miriko,” she nods to him. “Nice to meet you, Itadori.”

“Miriko!” An eye opens beneath Yuji’s eye, a toothy smile chuckling lowly beneath the eye. “Long time no see,” Sukuna snickers. “Guess I should have sliced you into more pieces, hm?”

Miriko huffs, eyes narrowing. “I wish I could say it is a pleasure to see you after so long, but I rather wish you had stayed deceased,” she growls, staring at the eye that bored into her own.

“You’re as old as Sukuna?” The young sorcerer asks curiously, glancing down at the irritating curse that had popped out of cheek.

“Mhm, older if anything. Sukuna killed me long ago,” she reveals. This comes as a shock to you as you contemplate the meaning of her being so old. If Sukuna was over one thousand years old, and Miriko was too, what did that mean about some of the information she had told you before? After all, she had said herself that your mother was her first and only vessel until you. Did that mean your mother had found her cursed object only a few decades ago, or did that mean your mother had been alive for hundreds of years? Regardless, it’s not something to bring up around Gojo.

“Why does everyone wanna kill me? I wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Sukuna teases before disappearing entirely. Yuji brings a hand up to his face where the mouth had just been, rubbing at it.

“Sorry ‘bout that, he’s usually quieter,” the boy shrugs. “So, you and y/n work together?” His brow furrows at the thought. Most curses wouldn’t be thrilled to be working with a human, let alone stuck within one, so Miriko was aware that she was a bit of an anomaly.

“We live in harmony,” she replies simply, taking in the two markings beneath Itadori’s eyes as she figured that much like her hair, Itadori likely gained Sukuna’s extra eyes and markings as his tell.

“Are you a special grade curse too?” His jaw slacks open as he asks the question, leaning forward over the table. Miriko nods and Itadori continues his questions. “Why work with y/n? Sukuna won’t do shit if it doesn’t benefit him,” he grumbles, grimacing at the thought of his unfortunate partner.

Miriko pauses, her red eyes cold as she turns her gaze to Gojo. She calmly sizes him up, wondering just how much she wants to admit to the special grade sorcerer. Did she even have a choice at this rate? Could she respond vaguely enough to the boy’s questions to satisfy without going into specifics?

“Sukuna and I are not entirely alike,” she explains, her gaze never once leaving Gojo’s. “I was born long before the time of curses.” She crosses her arms, shaking her head in a very animalistic manner. Although she generally could keep up the facade of being a human, her behavior slipped through the cracks on occasion. The light breeze was refreshing for her and she was enjoying it, given that she had been trapped in her domain for so long now when usually you could more freely swap.

“That’s so cool!” Itadori grins, earning an amused smile from Miriko. “So you’re the curse of…?”

“Death.”

Itadori’s eyes widen, his back straightening as though the word was enough to make him shiver. A special grade curse of death was certainly nothing to bat your eyes at.

“Glad she’s on our side,” Gojo chimes in cheerily from across the table, a pair of narrowed red eyes finding their way to his overly-happy grin. While it was clear he had the capacity to be serious, it seemed as though being around his student somehow made him more frustrating to handle and Miriko found herself retreating into you as she boiled in her own irritation.

You blink as you take in the sunlight, disorientation clearing from your mind.

“Oh, so you’re y/n now, right?”

You nod, pushing your sunglasses up on the bridge of your nose as you shoot him a kind smile. “Enough about me though, we’re here to teach you,” you push the subject away from yourself, feeling a pang of sadness in your chest as the young boy’s face lights up. What if you did have to kill him? No, you couldn’t focus on that right now. Even if it meant helping Gojo and spending time with him, you would need to pour your focus into training him. Maybe, just maybe, it would be enough.

–

You wave to Itadori as he bounds through the trees across the clearing. You had chosen to cut the teaching session short today given that you wanted to put together some sort of a teaching schedule as this was all new to you. You let out a breath, feeling a heavy weight on your shoulders. Not just Yuji, but everyone was relying on you to help him.

The quiet sound of footsteps over the grass beneath you pulls your attention to Gojo. He’s staring down at you with a genuine smile, one that doesn’t fuel your irritation for once.

“He’s a good kid,” your voice is barely a whisper as you stare at the expanse of trees before you where Itadori had disappeared off to.

Gojo hums. “That’s why I needed to find a good teacher,” he smirks.

“Is that why you extorted me?”

“C’moooon, no need to be so dramatic,” he waves his hand dismissively. “Let’s go get lunch.” He begins making his way out of the clearing, stopping only once he realizes you weren’t following. He pauses as he turns back to you with a tilt of his head.

Gojo was smart. Too smart. So how could he not see the way he angered you?

“I’m not going with you,” you sigh with a shake of your head. “I’m going back to the cabin. I need to let Taro out anyway,” you grumble, deciding to wait for him to leave so you could walk back in peace. Unfortunately that moment never comes.

“I don’t bite,” he insists in a sing-song voice, dragging out his last word.

Not willing to humor him, you simply shake your head. A frown pulls at his lips and he brings a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Same time,” he waves as he finally gives in and leaves you be.

–

The cool breeze whistling through spring leaves was a welcome feeling over your skin, warm from the harsh sunlight overhead. Though you were still getting accustomed to the general functions of Jujutsu Tech and what it meant for them to be sorcerers, your schedule allowed for a decent amount of time to yourself.

And that was exactly how you spent it, by yourself. Though your thumb had hovered over Nanami’s name in your contacts on more than one occasion, you found yourself constantly reminded that at the end of the day, there was a reason you kept your distance from the world around you.

The only constant in your life was Gojo, much to your dismay. He’d made a habit of asking you to grab lunch despite being constantly turned down and you were starting to think it was getting under his skin. Good.

“In the same way that you imbue a weapon, or even a fist with cursed energy, you should be able to suppress it. Essentially direct it inwards and shield it,” you found yourself explaining to Yuji how you were able to keep hidden for so long. It had been a good couple of weeks since your arrival and Gojo had attended every lesson thus far. You insisted he needn’t do so, but you were fairly certain he was trying to learn more about you regardless.

Gojo was right, Itadori was a quick learner. In just two weeks, you had managed to teach him a decent amount about what you knew as a vessel, though somehow it felt as though you had only scratched the surface.

Itadori’s cursed energy flares for a moment before he gets a grasp on what exactly he’s doing and suppresses his cursed energy. You smile, allowing Miriko to take over as she quickly zips behind Yuji to test whether he can keep his attention on the suppression while remaining quick on his feet. Miriko’s speed didn’t match Gojo’s, let alone Yuji’s, so tracking her shouldn’t be an issue. Yuji turns quickly, just short of being able to divide his attention. Miriko would have been able to strike him, but it wouldn’t take much practice to get a hang of being able to keep up both tasks at once. Miriko nods in approval.

“Good, you were able to stay relatively attentive as well, that will-” Miriko’s eyes widen as her head whips around, wide searing red eyes landing on the guest standing beside Gojo at the edge of the clearing. Miriko retreats, allowing you control. You take a moment to ground yourself, blinking a few times before your gaze lands on Nanami.

Though you wanted to hope he hadn’t seen you, your eyes were locked with one another.

“Shit,” you mutter the curse under your breath, clenching your jaw.

Six Eyes was meant to keep visitors away, Miriko hisses and you sigh. He’d made it obvious enough at this point that he had no intent on earning your trust, so what did it really matter at this point anyway that you were angry with him? He had no regard for your anger either, which only served to make you more upset with him.

With a sigh, you decide it isn’t worth it to remain in a staring match with Nanami, only able to hope he didn’t notice your glowing eyes and hair shift colors. Motioning to Itadori to follow you, you jog to the edge of the clearing.

“y/n,” Nanami greets you with a sidelong nod, repeating the action for Yuji who bounds up behind you.

“Nanamin!” Yuji grins. You shoot a surprised look at Nanami at the nickname, a warm smile spreading across your lips at the exasperated look he shoots at you in return, though in truth you see a warmth flash in his brown eye. “What’re you doing here?”

“I’d like you both to accompany me on a mission.”

“No,” without hesitation, you turn him down. “I don’t fight.”

At that, there’s a pause. The whole group looks confused.

“You’re a sorcerer, aren’t you?” The salmon-haired boy at your side raises a brow.

Looking between the group, Gojo is the only one who seems to understand what you mean, though he’s in no rush to relieve you of the shocked looks from either Yuji or Nanami. Even so, he doesn’t know why you don’t fight. Can’t fight. He smirks at you, leaving you to explain yourself. Why did he feel the need to be so frustrating?

“I-” you pause, looking for words. An excuse. The wind whistles through the trees behind Nanami’s broad form as you search for a response vague enough to leave you out of suspicion, but precise enough to keep questions from bowling you over. “My technique isn’t meant for fighting.”

Nanami flashes Gojo an unreadable look. Gojo just shrugs, the smirk never leaving his face.

“Very well,” Nanami agrees. “I’d like you to accompany me regardless, you won’t need to fight. Gojo can accompany us as well.”

You shake your head again. “I can appreciate the idea, but I’d prefer not to put myself in harm’s way.”

Nanami hums understandingly. “You won’t be in danger, the reported curse is grade two or lower.”

“That’s… weak?” You confirm, tilting your head. Special grade, first grade, it was all relatively new to you and you found yourself constantly questioning the world the Jujutsu Tech sorcerers lived in.

Nanami nods. “I won’t allow it to lay a finger on you,” he assures you.

Pausing, you search Nanami’s gaze for a sign that he was bluffing, but you never found it. In fact, you find your cheeks growing red at the mere thought of such a statement. Your eyes wander, if only for a moment, down to his broad chest, before you swallow and compose yourself. “Fine,” you give in to defeat with a sigh.

“Hell yeah!” Itadori grins, bringing a determined fist up. You smile softly, happy to see him so hopeful, only for your smile to fade into a frown at the bleak realization that he was just a kid and was losing his childhood to a world full of curses and death. He was just a kid and he held himself responsible for the deaths following Sukuna’s rampage in Shibuya.

“Why don’t we all grab a bite to eat first?” As usual, Gojo attempted to get you to join him, only to watch like clockwork as you shake your head.

“I’ll meet you at the gates in an hour,” you deny his company, turning on your heel to head back to your cabin. Your heart jumps as the sound of steps catches up to you, but when you turn it’s not Gojo’s frustrating smirk you’re met with. It’s Nanami’s kind gaze.

“Still not fond of him I see,” he comments, lidded eye trailing over to meet you.

“You could say that,” you chuckle. Aside from the gentle crunch of grass and leaves beneath your feet and the rustling of the leaves above you, the only thing breaking the silence between you was the distant chatter of the two sorcerers whom you had left behind.

“I didn’t intend to force you to accompany me,” the blonde comments, frowning. “You can stay back if you’d like, I know I may not have made it sound like such.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, accompanying you across the open sunny field that led to your cabin. “I believe this case would be beneficial learning for Itadori, however. Gojo mentioned you’ve been working hard.”

“It’s alright, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” your voice is quiet and unconvincing. Nanami frowns at how dry your words are, stopping to face you. In the broad daylight, you can see now just how much of his body is scarred. Burn scars seem to cover the entire left side of his body as far as you can tell, only able to see the skin of his forearms from his rolled-up sleeves and of course his face and neck. You figure his eye is likely missing as well, given his eyepatch. Had a curse done such a thing?

“You’ll be safe,” he reassures you again, brown eye examining you carefully.

“I appreciate it, Nanami.”

“Kento, please.” A smile plays on his lips which you return.

“Well in that case, Kento,” you pause, your eyes crinkling in the corners as you smile warmly at him. “You can come in, if you’d like.” You bounce up the stairs to your cabin, glancing behind you as the blonde man hums and follows you inside. Taro’s barking begins the moment you slot the key into the lock. Immediately he’s at your feet, more excited when he notices Nanami. Nanami chuckles as he leans down to greet the dog, scratching behind his ear.

“Make yourself at home. I was just planning on putting together some ramen.”

“You needn’t-”

“I insist,” you interrupt him. Wood creaks beneath your feet as you make your way into the kitchen, putting together the rather small amount of ingredients that were in your fridge to make what was at least a half-decent meal. At least it wasn’t instant.

Nanami takes a seat at your dining room table, pulling the weapon that he carried off his back and placing it precariously against the wall. A comfortable silence falls over you both and when you glance in his direction, you notice he seems to have let his guard down, content as he allows himself a break and seems to stare distantly at the worn wood of the table. He looks tired.

Turning your attention back to the pot before you, you hesitantly remove your glasses as the steam rising from the boiling water coats them in a layer of fog. Tending to the food, you bask in the comfortable silence as you allow Nanami to relax.

As you’re beginning to wrap up cooking, he breaks the silence. “Thank you for cooking.”

Not considering that your sunglasses are sitting off to the side, you glance back at him, striking crimson eyes meeting his gaze. You smile in response, though his reaction catches you off-guard. His eye widens briefly before narrowing in turn as he investigates and examines your supernatural irises. You avert your eyes, focusing on the soup as you swallow the lump in your throat.

“How’s Itadori doing?” His words come as a surprise, as well as a relief. If nothing else, at least he still trusts you, despite your secrets.

“Good,” you hum, clearing your throat as your voice breaks. “You were right, he’s a good kid. Kento seems satisfied with the statement. “How’s… work?” Your words come out as a question as you debate whether being a sorcerer is a profession. “Do you get paid?”

Kento chuckles. “I do get paid,” he responds. “It’s been quieter recently.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It was troublesome after the Shibuya incident. Though many of the stronger curses are out of the picture, there were far too many curses in general compared to sorcerers.”

A pang of guilt tugs at you as you complete the finishing touches on the ramen, adoring each bowl with half an egg. Though you knew Kento didn’t intend his words to come off in such a manner (he was too kind for that), you couldn’t help but feel as though you should have helped. You knew of the amount of curses, but you had to remind yourself that unlike most techniques, yours came at a cost too great to use on the regular.

Setting a bowl in front of Nanami, he quietly thanks you, taking a brief pause to examine your eyes more closely before he begins eating.

“Were you there? In Shibuya?” You ask between bites.

“Yes,” the air grows tense very suddenly. Kento pauses, his shoulders hunched before he takes a breath and relaxes again. Taking the hint that you’d struck a nerve, you choose to move on.

“Hey, um,” you lean back in your chair, the sun cascading through the blinds as golden rays hit your cheek, warming them further than the ramen already had. “Are you okay?”

The words seem to surprise him as he sits up. “I’m well,” he responds curtly, guarded. He takes a breath as he decides to give into your kind question after a moment. “I suppose I’m just a bit worn out,” he admits. He turns his head to stare out the window as he contemplates something silently.

“It doesn’t seem easy,” you comment as you watch his expression shift to a more somber one, “being a sorcerer.”

“No,” he agrees, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “You’re wise to avoid it.” Sighing, you both continue eating your ramen in relative silence. Nanami finishes first, clearing his throat. “One of these days my luck will run out.” Your brow furrows as you observe the subtle way his lips downturn and his chest seems to clench. You tilt your head at him, a sign for him to continue. “Every time I look in the mirror I’m reminded that this,” he motions to his general left side of his body, completely scarred and missing an eye, “is from the day I was lucky.”

Worrying your lip between your teeth, you uneasily follow his motions. No wonder he was worn out. Was this injury from Shibuya? Likely.

Can you heal him?

Unlikely, Miriko replies. Healing you and I is different from others. And while I can reverse death, I do need a body. I believe given that this isn’t death I couldn’t do much.

“I’m sorry Kento,” your voice is quiet, barely breaking through the silence. You’re not sure what else to say. What else to do. Nanami is silent as he stares down at the bowl in front of him. After a long pause, he sighs and pushes himself up from the table, bringing his bowl along with him and beginning to wash it. “Oh you don’t have to-”

“It’s my pleasure,” he interrupts you, shooting you a smile that eases your discomfort. “I appreciate the lunch.”

You smile, relaxing a bit as you join him at the sink, taking your turn to wash your bowl as well. Your arm brushes against his and you spare a glance at the way the muscles in his forearms flex as he runs the bowl under the water. Your wandering gaze catches Nanami’s attention and he hums. Heat rises on your cheeks as you focus on the bowl you were cleaning, maybe focusing a bit too hard as you miss his amused question.

“y/n?”

“Hm?” You stare up curiously at him, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. The corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles.

“I asked if you would like me to take over,” he repeats himself with a motion towards your bowl as you purse your lips.

“O-oh! No, that’s okay.” Heat dusts the tips of your ears as you avert your gaze. His chest quietly rumbles and you wonder if he’s laughing, but before you have the time to think about it, he interrupts your thoughts.

“Are you ready to leave?”

You nod, pushing aside the feeling of getting caught staring at him as you glance back at your cabin. Setting your bowl in the sink, you dry your hands as Nanami picks his weapon back up. With a quick goodbye to Taro, you trail after Nanami, shooting him a grateful look as he hands you your glasses. You aren’t sure why he doesn’t seem interested in questioning you on the secrets you were so obviously keeping from him, but you’re grateful nonetheless.

Locking the door, you turn to follow the blonde sorcerer, who takes a moment to wait for you to fall into step with him.

“Thanks for having lunch with me, Kento.” You grin up at the tall man, your heart warm at the thought of having company. Aside from visiting your dad whenever you were in town, you hadn’t had the opportunity to spend time with someone in such a long time that it was a very welcome feeling. Perhaps you’d been lonelier than you thought after all these years of distancing yourself from everyone in order to keep safe.

“Thank you for lunch,” he returns your smile, his expression softening. “We should do it again sometime,” his voice holds an intonation that you don’t recognize, one that makes your heart skip a beat. Your grin turns sheepish as heat dusts your face once more, however as you approach the gates of the school, Gojo calls to you before you can respond to Kento.

“You guys ready?” The white-haired man calls out to you.

“I believe so,” Nanami responds, rolling his shoulders as he assesses the group.

Though he still wears his blindfold, you can feel Gojo’s gaze on you, the frown on his face telling. What he was frowning about, you couldn’t be sure. His head flicks between you and Nanami before all thoughts seem to get pushed aside as he grins. “Field trip!”

With a grimace at his enthusiasm that matched that of his student, you all pile into the car as Ijichi takes you to Tokyo.

–

Since your arrival at Jujutsu High, you hadn’t had the chance to visit Tokyo. You’d grown accustomed to the breeze that ran across the school’s fields and rustled the leaves in the trees that surrounded your cabin. Tokyo’s hustle and bustle had never been something you were fond of, especially given the need to suppress your cursed energy and shut Miriko out, but now as neither a sorcerer nor a human, you carried with you the strange sensation of not belonging in either world. Something you supposed Miriko had likely grown accustomed to after all these years.

Ijichi parks across the street from an abandoned strip mall on the outer portion of Ginza and casts a veil over the area, trapping the four of you inside while he remains safely outside.

“Stay near me,” Nanami’s voice is low, intended for only you to hear as he briefly sets a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You nod, keeping close behind the blonde sorcerer. Gojo trails a small distance behind the group, hands in his pockets as he walks with a nonchalance that burns a fire in your stomach. He couldn’t take a damn thing seriously, could he?

A clanging noise causes you to jolt as you search for the source of the noise, spotting only a rock near a sheet of metal and a very guilty looking grin on Gojo’s face. You’re ready to tell him off when Nanami suddenly stops. You just barely manage to not collide with him, peeking out from around him to see what he was staring at.

A small weasel skitters across the pathway before you and into an alley. Only, it wasn’t a weasel at all. Though it looked relatively normal, its green fur gave away that it was a curse.

I do not understand curse grading, however I believe you were led astray.

“Hm?” You hum questioningly aloud at Miriko’s question, catching Nanami’s glance.

Whatever resides nearby is stronger than I expected.

Your eyes widen and you turn your attention back to Kento. “Remind me, how strong is a grade two curse?”

“Weak enough to take down with a gun, in relative terms.”

“I don’t get the feeling that this is a grade two curse,” you mumble, exchanging a glance with Itadori who’s nodding in agreement. Gojo is still, having stopped a short distance away and seemingly looking around. He had obviously caught on as well.

Another small weasel-like creature skitters between Itadori’s feet. “Hey!” He yells in surprise, reaching down to try to grab it. It slinks out of his grasp, a snicker escaping its parted maw as it skitters down a corridor between buildings.

“Should I go after it?”

Nanami nods. “You’re the quickest of us. See if you can draw something out.”

You watch Itadori’s movements, hoping that you might be able to catch onto how he currently uses his cursed energy. This would be a good learning opportunity for you to determine how best to teach him, after all.

The sounds of Itadori’s steps began to fade as silence fell over your group, awaiting his return. A clang. A screech. Footsteps. Itadori emerges from between the buildings with the creature writhing in his hands.

“I get the feeling this isn’t the curse,” he mutters, exorcizing the critter effortlessly. He claps his hands together, wiping them in disgust on the fronts of his pants. Before he can come back to join you, his eyes widen. “Oh shit, look out!” He calls, having noticed a much larger curse approaching from the side. The curse was blocked by the figure of the man beside you and Gojo was paying it little mind, while it remained in Nanami’s blind spot, unable to see what Itadori was looking at.

Without thinking, you grab Kento’s hand, dragging him out of reach of the gaping mouth of a curse with a toad-like appearance and green, bulbous skin adorned in large red cysts. It hurdles towards you once more, but Nanami is prepared this time. Or at least you think he is, despite the fact that his weapon is incredibly blunt. You’re not sure what its use would be, but you also aren’t about to doubt him.

The curse huffs and grunts as it moves with great effort just in time to avoid a hit from Nanami, who it had clearly chosen to be the larger threat, putting the brute of its focus into avoiding his blunt knife. Yuji wasn’t to be underestimated however, striking with enough force to incapacitate the curse long enough for it to lose its leg to… a blunt knife? You take a couple of steps back, deciding to keep clear of the battle so as not to endanger yourself or distract Kento or Yuji.

One final step back and you accidentally collide with something strong. Turning your gaze, Gojo’s grin is the first thing you meet and you jolt forward, huffing.

“Watch your step,” the sorcerer teases smugly, entirely too amused at your reaction. Even so, he quickly returns his focus to whatever he was doing previously, removing his blindfold. “That’s not the only curse here,” he says, striking blue eyes seeming to glow as he evaluates the area beneath the veil. His demeanor is unlike that of Kento or Yuji. Gojo’s eyes are filled with intrigue despite the immense amount of focus he was putting into whatever it was he was so focused on. He was having fun.

You follow his gaze, focusing yourself on its location, but before you have the time to do so, Gojo wraps you in his arms, moving you out of the way in a blink of an eye. Your lips part in shock, reorienting yourself from where you now stood on the opposite side of the battle Nanami and Yuji were already fighting. Gojo’s arms return to his sides, his wide stare one that could strike fear into any enemy as he focuses on your new assailant. The curse standing opposite you both is humanoid, it seems to be cut from the same cloth as the weasel and toad-like curses but this one holds a clearly larger amount of intelligence.

The curse’s skin is green like the toad’s, but its build is slender and muscular, its movement more similar to an ape. You shiver at the sight, taking a look at your group. The toad seems to be nearly incapacitated as Nanami takes a step back, turning to face the new assailant.

Something is off.

Gojo seemed to be on the same page as Miriko, letting Nanami and Itadori handle the new curse in front of you. Gojo’s narrowed eyes shift around the setting as he attempts to pinpoint the source of cursed energy, but his attempts fail as more and more tiny weasel-like curses begin making their way out of the alleyways.

“Is Miriko capable of fighting?” Gojo’s serious tone sends fear up your spine.

“Yeah,” you follow his gaze as he evaluates what could only be described as a horde of tiny curses. Not dangerous on their own or even in this large of a group, but they all seem to move in sync, as if they weren’t all separate beings.

“Miriko, why don’t you fight?” His narrowed gaze is now on you. A mouth filled with jagged teeth opens from your hand.

“Death is a costly burden to bear, Six Eyes.”

Gojo hums. “I see.”

You gasp as Nanami’s back brushes against your shoulder suddenly, the humanoid curse’s tail lashing against his blade. It swipes its claws past his blade, snickering as Nanami hisses at the contact of its claws.

“Kento!” You gasp, but he’s already chasing after the curse as it bounds back. You take a step forward, concern building uncomfortably in your chest at the sight of blood seeping through his blue shirt.

“He’s fine,” Gojo’s voice is, unmistakably, a grumble? Confused, you turn to look at him but he pays you no mind.

Before you can question the snowy-haired sorcerer, a weasel slinks over your foot and you jump. The weasels all begin to move in a pattern, backing you nearly into Gojo when a shadow on the concrete wall beside you begins to twist, a bleak pair of white eyes following your every miniscule movement.

Gojo’s arm wraps around your core again, much to your frustration as he pulls you out of reach of the curse that begins to crawl from the wall, strange gangly limbs hanging from its slender figure. Much like the other two curses and weasels, its body was a sickening green with red cysts covering its figure and form. Most notably, a small glowing light dangled from an appendage on its forehead. Each time it flashed, the weasels would move as though they were one single organism. While the ape-like curse had exhibited a level of intelligence, it paled in comparison to this one.

“Gojo! Keep the damage to a minimum!”

Gojo groans at Nanami’s words, like a child being told he wouldn’t get ice cream. He mumbles something to himself about Nanami being a pain. Suddenly overly aware of being tucked against the sorcerer’s body, you writhe and push against him.

“Let me go,” you hiss.

“Can you cooperate for once?” His blue eyes pierce into yours, nose wrinkled as he argues with you unnecessarily. The slender green creature’s body contorts strangely and just when you think it’s about to throw itself at you and Gojo, its appendage flashes and weasels throw themselves at you. None reach you, however. Gojo grins, flashing you a cocky look that has you groaning at him. Each one is stopped mere inches from either you or Gojo.

“That the best you got?” Gojo taunts, moving you out of reach in the blink of an eye before he chases after the curse. Thankful to be out of the sorcerer’s grasp, you move closer to Nanami, finally able to get a better look at his injury, as well as evaluate Itadori’s skills.

Although you were keeping a watchful eye on your surroundings, something slips through the cracks mere moments before Itadori finishes off the humanoid curse. Teeth sink into your side, blood seeping out from the massive bite marks. A strangled gasp parts your lips as your eyes widen in shock.

Without a moment’s thought, Miriko takes over, eyes flashing a bright red as her technique spreads through the smaller toad-like curse with sharp teeth. Gray cracks spread through its small body before it shatters into dust. Death.

Unable to pay mind to the injury, Miriko joins Itadori and Nanami as they finish up with their battle. Gojo is shortly behind them, making short work of the curse despite its immense strength. Although it pained you, and even more so Miriko to admit it, he had a reason to act as high and mighty as he did. It didn’t make him any less irritating.

Gojo claps his hands together with a grin. “See, that wasn’t so bad now, was it y/n?”

Miriko retreats into your body and you open your mouth for a sassy retort, but a strangled noise interrupts you. Blood seeps from the corner of your mouth, jaw slack with pain.

“Miriko?” Your strangled plea for help barely meets the ears of the panicked group around you as you collapse. Nanami catches you in time to prevent you from colliding with the concrete, taking no time to haul you into his arms.

I apologize y/n, i believe your kidney is ruptured.

No shit. Unable to focus your gaze, you attempt to focus on your wound. Miriko had healed the external wound from the curse, however when she extinguished the weak creature with her own cursed technique, clearly the cost had been your kidney due to its close proximity to the bite.

“Shit, y/n!” Nanami’s words finally make it through to you and you meet his desperate gaze. Though you recognize the timbre of their voices around you, you can’t make out anything the other two sorcerers are saying. If only you had explained to anyone just how your technique worked.

“Park,” you cough, blood spurting from your mouth. “Plea-”

Kento doesn’t need more of an explanation, making an effort to talk to you and keep you conscious as he makes a quick pace to the park a couple of blocks away that you had noticed on the way into the concrete jungle that was the strip mall. His fingers grip your body carefully, like you were a flower so delicate he couldn’t bear the thought of a scratch on you. Though you knew he was talking, you couldn’t make sense of most of his words. Your consciousness was beginning to fade, you wanted nothing more than to retreat and let Miriko take over, though you knew she was focused on preventing the spread of her technique past your kidney.

Kento gently sets you down in front of a tree, unsure of what more to do from here. “Is this-?” Startled, he takes a step back when the grass beneath you shrivels and grays, the tree behind you cracking and snapping under the pressure of its life being stolen in little more than a second.

The three sorcerers before you could all only watch as your breathing steadies slowly, though you were still relatively weak from the injury. Miriko’s technique wasn’t so simple like others were. You weren’t special grade for your overwhelming fighting abilities, but rather how difficult it was to heal from your technique. How deathly it was. More often than not, it was easier to drop a limb and heal it than to attempt to heal death itself before it could spread, but Miriko wasn’t able to do such a thing in your body, so much more fragile than hers.

Coughing, you spit out blood, your head rolling to the side as you catch your breath. Nanami is kneeling directly in front of you now, mahogany gaze filled with concern. Your heart skips a beat at how heartwarming it is to have someone care for you, especially in a moment like this. In all your time living with Miriko, you had made every effort to avoid using her technique on anything beyond flora. To experience it yourself for an extended period of time was a new, and exhausting, feeling.

Itadori’s gaze is on the splintered tree that seemed to threaten to teeter over at any moment while Gojo quietly stands with piercing blue eyes taking in your every movement. As usual, he was evaluating you.

“You gave me a scare there, y/n.” Kento’s expression is warm as he gently runs a finger down your jaw, tilting your head to either side as he checks you over for any further injuries.

“Sorry,” your voice is hoarse and you clear your throat, the taste of blood remaining fresh on your tongue. “I ruptured my kidney with my technique,” you explain quietly, mindlessly bringing a hand up to where the pain had been mere moments ago. “Thanks for bringing me here, Ken-” a cough cuts you off. No more blood, at the very least.

“No need to thank me,” he shakes his head, regret flashing through his eye. “I apologize for bringing you here in the first place. I will be having some words with the Window who provided the report.” There’s a subtle anger to his voice but it fades when he speaks again. “Let’s get you home,” he reaches his hand out for you to take. Taking his hand, you take a moment to steady yourself, your gaze distant as you orient yourself. There’s a strange ache in your side sending fog to your brain and leaving you feeling somewhat lost.

“You okay, y/n?” Itadori’s voice is strained in concern, wide eyes staring at you. It takes you a moment to process his question before you nod, sending a reassuring smile his way. That seems to satisfy his concern as he lets out a breath.

Your eyes shift to Gojo, whose expression is unreadable as he stares at you unmoving. Your mind is too muddled to bother with trying to decipher the sorcerer either way and you direct your attention to Nanami.

“Steady?” He asks quietly, one hand still steadying you while the other ghosts your upper arm in case you were to collapse. You nod slowly, taking a breath as you follow his lead. Itadori bounds up to Gojo ahead of you, the two loudly snickering over something unrelated. His demeanor around you could be studied, he was so confusing.

“I owe you an explanation,” you tell Nanami, the warmth from his hand keeping you grounded. Before he can insist you don’t (and he was planning on doing so), you launch into a short explanation of your technique, and Miriko. You do try to keep quiet, but Gojo’s occasional glance back isn’t lost on you.

Nanami’s eye is wide as he stares down at you. “So that curse attacking near your kidney caused the technique to backfire into your kidney?”

You nod slowly. “The technique is too strong for my body,” you explain. “She doesn’t have the same issue in her full form. That’s why I need to pull life from something living to heal myself from her technique, but not for regular injuries.”

“Right.”

“Sorry I didn’t tell you, Kento.”

His brow raises. “You don’t owe me any explanations,” he smiles reassuringly, shifting the hand you were holding to his other hand so that he can set his opposite hand on the small of your back. “I’m just pleased that you’re safe.”

Shivering at his touch, you feel your cheeks heat up. Unfamiliar feelings bubble in your chest, feelings you had chosen to detach yourself from many years ago when Miriko’s presence had awoken. You swallow the lump of uncertainty in your throat, choosing to relax into Kento’s presence. Just for a moment, you could allow yourself to enjoy someone’s presence.

Maybe with him being a sorcerer, things wouldn’t be so bad.

Maybe for once, you could let go and not worry about the danger.

Just maybe.

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a/n || Hope you all enjoy! Thanks again for all the support ♡ We've officially hit the end of what is fully pre-written so my next updates will unfortunately be further apart but I already have the two main plot points and their connections fully fleshed out so at the very least I can assure you it shouldn't take me too long!

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