#benefits of cross posting I guess

[numbuhbee]

Why does uploading things to ffn have to be so hard. Why did I have to go and add all the italics back in.

[punkrockmlchael]

Enemies with Benefits

Masterlist | Eddie Munson Masterlist | Corroded Coffin Masterlist

Eddie Munson x Fem Cheerleader!Reader

Fuck Buddies; Enemies with Benefits (Both Eddie and Reader are 18+)

Warnings: 18+ mdni, Mean Eddie, Mean Cheerleader!Reader, Degrading Name Calling, Smut: This is literally just porn, Spanking, Oral (Fem and Male Receiving; Eddie is a head pusher), Cum Eating, Unprotected PinV, Creampie, afab reader

Request: I love your writing 🥹💞 Please write mean Eddie x mean cheerleader. Enemies hooking up to lovers? It would eattt. Hi! Thank you for the request, I had a lot of fun writing this.. but also, I changed it slightly so I guess if a part 2 is wanted let me know! I hope you all enjoy! Also huge thank you to my besties @the-witty-pen-name + @keeryhours for reading this through for me before posting smooches to you both!!

Synopsis: A freak and a cheerleader hate each other in public, but they really love to get each other off in private.

Word Count: 4k

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Well, well, well,” Eddie smirked as he opened the door of his trailer. “Look what the cat dragged in,” he added, leaning against the frame of the doorway. “Did you miss me that much, princess?” He asked, looking you up and down. The green and yellow cheer uniform you had on hugged your body perfectly and you knew Eddie enjoyed seeing you in it—whether he would admit it to you or not.

“Fuck off, Eddie,” you rolled your eyes, pushing past him. Your skirt moved up slightly as your hips swayed back and forth, teasing him with a little bit of a view along the way. 

“Ouch,” he smirked, closing the door behind you. “Is that really any way to talk to your dealer?” He asked, following you to his bedroom. “Speaking of, what brings you to my humble abode tonight? Need some more already?”

“You know why I’m here,” you mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest. He closed the door to his room and turned to you, stepping closer to you.

“Missed my cock that badly?” He asked, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear gently. “Hmm?” 

You opened your mouth to argue with him but closed it real quick because he was right, as much as you hated to admit it—Eddie Munson was right. This had become your dynamic lately… hating each other at school, arguing and cursing each other out in front of everyone before you found yourself in his bed moaning and screaming his name. 

“Or, did you miss my mouth?” He smirked, a cocky grin on his face as he stepped closer to you. “Which is it, princess? You want to cum on my tongue tonight or you want to cum on my dick tonight?”

“Both,” you mumbled, glaring up at him.

“Oh, oh, oh,” he smirked, “both?” He asked, lips ghosting over yours gently. “I think I can make that happen,” he teased, lips pressing against yours roughly. You groaned, lips moving against his frantically as you tugged at the hem of his shirt. Eddie pulled away from the kiss to slide his shirt off, throwing it to the floor. Your perfectly manicured nails scratched up his stomach and chest, moving towards his biceps gently. You gripped his biceps slightly, nails digging into the muscles there as you leaned in for another kiss. 

You were met with a groan from Eddie as your nails dug deeper into his skin, leaving slight marks. Eddie’s hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to him as his tongue licked your bottom lip gently. You continued to kiss him, not giving him the satisfaction of exploring your mouth with his tongue. Eddie’s hands made their way down your ass, moving under your cheer skirt as he squeezed both of your ass cheeks roughly, massaging them.

You gasped into the kiss, moaning into his mouth as he stuck his tongue into your mouth, exploring every inch of it. He pulled you closer to him, squeezing your ass cheeks again as his noticeable erection poked at your thigh.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” you mumbled, pulling away from the kiss to trail kisses down his neck.

“Yeah,” he stifled a laugh, moving his right hand back to slap your ass gently. “And you’re a fucking bitch.” He said as his hand met your skin, a slight sting overcoming the skin on your ass. 

You moaned at the sting, looking up at Eddie. “You don’t seem to complain about how much of a bitch I am when I’m sucking your dick,” you commented, fingers moving to undo his belt.

“Yeah, and you don't seem to complain about how much of an asshole I am when I’m fucking you so hard into my mattress.” Eddie replied, his hands moving under your cheer top. He pushed it up slowly, his palms running against your stomach and over your bra covered breasts. He pushed the top up fully over your head, throwing it to the ground as his hands rested over your black lace bra, squeezing your breasts roughly. “Wow, did you wear this because you thought you’d get something tonight? What a slut.” 

You rolled your eyes, finally getting his belt undone. You undid his jeans and watched them drop to the floor in a pool around his ankles. “Oh, so because I’m wearing something sexy for you now I’m a slut?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Yeah, you are,” he nodded, his thumbs hooking around the waistband of your cheer skirt before he pushed it down to your ankles. He watched the skirt fall, revealing a matching black lace thong. “Wow, a matching set, huh, princess? That somehow makes you more of a slut.” He smirked, his hands finding your hips as he pulled you closer to his body. He kissed your lips roughly, pushing you back towards his bed.

When your legs hit the edge of his mattress he pushed you back slightly, a gasp escaping your lips as you fell back against the mattress. You groaned when your back hit something hard, reaching around to grab a small book. You held it up and looked at it, rolling your eyes at the words Dungeons and Dragons Player Handbook. 

“Fucking nerd,” you mumbled, throwing the book to the floor. 

“Oh, sorry,” Eddie replied, his hands digging into your thighs as he pulled your legs apart. “Didn’t realize having actual hobbies made me a nerd. All you do is jump around a fucking basketball court while throwing sparkly pom poms in the air.” Eddie kneeled in between your thighs, leaning down to leave sloppy kisses on your neck.

“My bad, fucking freak,” you groaned, moving your head to the side slightly. 

“Yeah, whatever you fucking prissy ass cheerleader,” he mumbled, biting down on your neck gently. “At least my hobbies include using my brain; all you do is show your body off and distract people in the stands, making them chant every word you say.” Eddie kissed down your neck sloppily, kissing between your breasts as he continued to kiss and lick down your stomach. His fingers met the hem of your thong, pulling the skimpy fabric down carefully before he looked up at you, smirking to himself. “Look what we have here,” he mumbled, sliding his fingers through your wet folds. “Pretty girl getting all wet for the freak?” 

“Shut the fuck up,” you moaned, closing your eyes as he continued to move his fingers through your slick folds. Your hips bucked up involuntarily, trying to get more friction from Eddie’s hands. “King of the Freaks is already rock hard for the Cheer Captain… isn’t he?” You smirked, moving your foot gently to rub over his hardened cock that sat beneath his boxers. 

Eddie hissed at the feeling, glaring up at you. “I swear to fuck, just for that I am going to make you scream my name tonight.” He moved down, licking a long stripe up your folds. He licked up to your clit, wrapping his lips around it as he sucked on it harshly, his fingers teasing your entrance before he slowly pushed his middle finger and ring finger inside. He curled his fingers with each thrust, looking up at you with a cocky glint in his eyes. 

“Jesus, fuck,” you moaned, your hands moving to his hair. Your fingers curled around his locks, tugging on them roughly. Eddie groaned around your clit, sending vibrations through your entire body as he continued to pump his fingers. “For a dumbass that’s had to repeat senior year three times, you really do know how to use your mouth and fingers,” you sighed, pushing his head down closer to your core. 

Eddie rolled his eyes, looking up at you as he sucked on your clit harder. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” he mumbled. He curled his fingers more, pumping them faster as he kissed over to your inner thigh, biting down on the soft skin there. He sucked on the skin, biting and nibbling before he blew on it gently, soothing the new forming mark he just made. 

You whined above him, glaring at him. “What did I tell you about making marks?” You asked, tugging on his hair harder. 

Eddie smirked, winking up at you. “You said no visible marks,” he reminded you. “This won’t be visible to anyone unless you really are a slut who takes her clothes off for everyone.”

You rolled your eyes, moaning again as Eddie thrusted his fingers deeper inside of you, curling them to hit just the right spot that he knew drove you crazy. Your hips moved against his fingers, moaning his name louder as you felt your high come closer into reach. 

“Come on, baby girl,” he purred, biting on your inner thigh again. He kissed your clit again before he sucked on it, biting down on the sensitive spot gently. “Cum for me, make everyone know the freak that you hate most is making you cum on his fingers and tongue.” 

You moaned again, back arching off the bed as you clenched around his fingers. His name escaped your lips like a prayer; you chanted it as you released on his fingers. 

Eddie smirked, removing his fingers from your core. He licked up your folds, taking in every last drop of your release before he kissed back up your stomach and chest. He sat up on his knees, sticking his fingers into your mouth. “Suck,” he commanded, groaning as your lips wrapped around his fingers and began sucking your juices off of them. “That’s it, look at that. See what the freak does to you, you slut?”

You moaned around his fingers, sucking on them as your eyes rolled back. “Eddie,” you mumbled around his fingers, moving your tongue along his calloused fingertips. 

He groaned, looking down at you. “What?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as you groaned around his fingers. You tried to speak but no proper words came out as Eddie pushed his fingers farther into your mouth. You groaned more, gagging on his fingers slightly as you glared up at him. He looked at you and smirked, pulling his fingers out of your mouth slowly. “I like you better when you have something in your mouth, it makes you shut the fuck up and I don’t have to listen to your attitude.” 

“I don’t have an attitude,” you argued, sitting up as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Oh, yes. You do,” Eddie smirked, running his thumb over your cheek gently. “You always have an attitude, you fucking bitch. Such an arrogant mouth too, the only thing it’s good for is sucking my cock, you know that?” 

“You just want me to suck your dick.” 

“Well, yeah.” Eddie laughed, rolling his eyes. “Anything to make you shut the fuck up.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled, shifting to your knees. Eddie laid back on his bed, letting you shuffle between his thighs carefully. You ran your nails down his chest and stomach, stopping right above the waistband of his boxers. You tugged the fabric down gently, and Eddie lifted his hips up to help you, one of the only times he would help you. 

As you tugged the fabric down his thighs, his rock hard erection sprang out, hitting his lower stomach with a soft thud. He groaned, watching you throw his boxers to the side before you sank down to your knees, taking his cock in your hand gently. The tip was red and swollen, leaking precum already from when he grinded himself into the mattress while he was eating you out moments earlier. You pumped him slowly, looking up at him with a teasing smirk.

“I need your mouth, princess,” Eddie groaned, running his hands through your hair gently. “And I kinda need it now,” he mumbled, taking your hair in his hand as he pushed your head down closer to his cock. 

You moaned, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock gently. You sucked slowly, looking up at Eddie before you slowly started taking more and more of him inside your mouth. His breath hitched as you went deeper, his hand pushing on the back of your head until you took all of him. You gagged around him, your eyes rolling back as you took all of him in your mouth. Eddie moaned loudly above you, gripping your hair tightly as he pulled you back up before he pushed you back down.

You moaned around him as he continued to do that, pulling you back by your hair before he pushed you back down roughly. You groaned and gagged around him, tears brimming your eyes as Eddie continued to use and fuck your mouth.

“God, shit. For being a bitch, you’re so good with your mouth. So good just letting me use your mouth for my own personal pleasure; little slut.” He groaned, pushing you down as far as you could go. You gagged loudly, looking up at him. “Look at you, such a good little slut for my cock; you probably like this, don’t you? You like being my little slut?” Eddie asked, pulling you back up slowly. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he mumbled, tightening his grip on your hair.

You groaned, moving back down to take him in fully. You gagged slightly, looking up at him as your tongue swirled around the underside of his cock. Eddie moaned loudly, his head falling back on the pillows as he thrusted up into you, his cock twitching in your mouth. He moaned your name as he shot rope after rope of his cum into your mouth and down your throat.

“Fuck, take it all you slut,” he groaned, releasing the grip on your hair. You pulled away from him with a pop, looking up at him with a smirk before you stuck your tongue out slightly. Eddie groaned louder when he saw his cum on your tongue. “You like that, you slut?” 

You rolled your eyes, swallowing what was still in your mouth and on your tongue before you looked up at him. “Just showing you what the bitchy cheerleader does to you,” you mumbled. You moved towards his inner thigh, leaving a soft kiss before you bit down on the skin, replicating the mark Eddie had left on your thigh earlier.

“Thought we agreed on no marks?”

“That went out the window when you marked me up yourself.” You muttered, biting down harder. You moved your hands behind your back, undoing your bra before you threw it to the side and onto the floor. 

“I think you secretly like when I mark you,” Eddie commented, his eyes moving to your now exposed breasts. “I think you secretly like it when I fuck you into the mattress too.”

“In your dreams,” you replied, biting on his skin harder as you sucked down and made another mark on his thigh. You kissed up his stomach and chest before your lips crashed into his roughly. Your knees moved to either side of him, hands on his chest as your lips moved against his.

Eddie kissed you back, his hands moving to grip your hips tightly. He held you close to him before he flipped you over, pinning you to the bed beneath him.

“I’m kind of sick of your attitude and sick of your mouth,” he mumbled, kissing your neck roughly. “But, god, I can’t wait to hear that same annoying little mouth scream my name while I fuck you into the mattress.” He groaned into your ear. 

You moaned softly, moving your head to the side as Eddie continued to kiss up and down your neck. “Eddie,” you mumbled, reaching down for his cock.

Eddie laughed, looking at you. “Damn, pretty little princess can’t wait? Does she need my cock that bad?” He asked, moving closer to you slightly. He rubbed his tip up and down your slick folds gently, pushing into you slowly to tease you. He watched as your eyes closed, a gasp escaping your lips as he slowly pushed further and further into you until he finally bottomed out. He groaned, staying in that place for a quick second to tease you. And to make you beg for more.

“Eddie,” you whined, bucking your hips up in search of some kind of friction. “Move, god, you’re such an arrogant asshole. At least fuck me.” You mumbled, looking up at him.

“Oh, you want me to fuck you?” He asked, pulling out of you completely. “Want me to fuck you into the mattress?” He asked, pushing back into you completely. “Want me to make you scream my name?” He asked, pulling out of you completely again. “Want me to fuck this attitude out of you?” He asked, pushing back into you roughly. “Because that is a challenge I am willing to take.” 

Eddie grabbed your wrists with his right hand, pinning them to the mattress above your head. He pulled out of you completely before he continued to thrust in and out of you at a fast and steady pace.

You moaned loudly, back arching off the bed as he continued to thrust into you. “Ed… Eddie,” you gasped, eyes rolling back as he continued to pound into you.

“Mm, yeah, you slut?” He asked, left hand moving down your body. He grabbed your knee, pushing it up to your chest as he moved deeper inside of you with the new angle. “You like that?” He groaned out, thrusting harder.

You moaned his name loudly, clenching around him as he asked that question. “Ye-yeah,” you mumbled, nodding your head as you moved your hips with his every thrust he made.

“Shit,” he moaned as he felt your walls clench around him. “God, you’re such a good slut for me, aren’t you? Taking my cock and letting me fuck you whenever I want.”

You nodded, “yeah, yeah. Good little slut for you and your dick,” you muttered, moaning louder as he thrusted deeply and hit your sweet spot. “Fuck, you asshole, god, right there,” you moaned his name as your back arched more.

Eddie smirked, tightening his grip around your wrists as he thrusted into you deeper. “Yeah, you like that?” He asked, pounding into you so fast that his headboard hit the wall. “You like it rough, you slut? You gonna cum on my dick for me?”

You whined louder, nodding your head as you clenched around him again. “Yeah, gonna… gonna cum on your dick, you fucking asshole,” you muttered.

“Do it.” He commanded, thrusting to hit your sweet spot again. You moaned his name loudly, praising it as it fell from your lips repeatedly. You clenched around him again, releasing on his dick as he continued to thrust into you as you rode out your high. “Hm, pretty little cheerleader got her wish tonight, huh? Got to cum on my tongue and my cock.” 

“Yeah, fuck.” You groaned, looking up at him. “Now you get to cum inside me, you fucking freak.” 

He moaned, leaning down to capture your lips in a desperate kiss. Your lips moved against each other frantically as he gave a couple more deep thrusts before his cock was twitching inside of you, releasing rope after rope of his cum. He coated your velvety walls with his load, staying buried inside of you as he moved to leave kisses down your neck.

“I still fucking hate you but, god, do I love fucking you. You’re such a slut for me, aren’t you?” Eddie breathed, trying to catch his breath.

 “Yeah, whatever you fucking ass.” You breathed out, looking up at him. Eddie smirked, pulling out of you carefully. You whined at the feeling, glaring up at him. “I should stop this, I feel like all I’m doing is boosting and stroking your already big ego.”

“My ego is definitely not the only thing you’re stroking,” Eddie winked, moving to lie next to you on the bed. He fell on his back with a huff of air, staring at the ceiling for a second. 

“Gross, you fucking pervert.” You muttered, hitting his chest gently.

“Yeah, well, again; you don’t seem to complain about me being a pervert when my head is between your thighs, licking up and down. Or when my fingers are inside of you, curling to hit your sweet spot just right. Oh! And, you definitely don’t seem to complain when my cock is inside of you, thrusting in and out. In fact, you even beg me to fill you up with my cum. Ironic, isn't it princess? You don’t seem to complain when I’m getting you off.” Eddie smirked, shifting to his side. He kissed your neck again, biting the skin gently before you rolled your eyes.

“You really are just such an arrogant and cocky asshole, aren’t you?” You asked, looking at him.

“Part of my charm.” He shrugged, a smirk plastered on his face.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Charm? What Charm?” 

Eddie looked offended and went to speak when he heard a knock at the front door and the doorbell ringing through the trailer. 

“Fuck,” Eddie groaned, glancing at the clock. “Shit, the guys are here.” He mumbled, springing to his feet. He quickly got his boxers and jeans back on, adjusting himself as he found his shirt. He threw your uniform at you before he slid his shirt over his head, trying to fix his messy hair a little bit. He opened the door to his room and pushed you into the bathroom quickly. “Act like you were here to buy and needed to use the bathroom, I’m getting the door.” Eddie quickly shut the bathroom door in your face before he made his way to the front door to let his friends inside.

You rolled your eyes, watching the bathroom door shut in your face. You quickly got dressed in your cheer uniform again, fixing your hair and makeup in the mirror as best as you could. You tried to make it seem like you weren’t just fucked way too well into a matress while screaming Eddie’s name. You balled your black lace thong up in your hand and opened the bathroom door, walking out to see Gareth, Jeff and Grant staring at you.

You looked up at them and smiled slightly, waving your free hand awkwardly before you looked at Eddie. He walked out of his room, holding a bag for you. “Here, sorry, I had to make sure I had it for you.” He mumbled, handing you the bag.

“Thanks,” you nodded, taking the bag from him. Eddie nodded, looking back at his friends that were staring at the two of you. 

“What?” He asked, leading you to the door. “Just a drug deal, you all have seen one happen before.” You stifled a laugh, walking to the door with Eddie. His friends shook their heads and looked away, walking towards the table to set up and plan their newest campaign. 

You watched them walk away and looked up at Eddie with a small smirk on your face. “Thanks, Eddie. Here’s your payment.” You placed your balled up thong in his hand and winked as he went slightly red, stuffing the lace fabric into his pocket. 

“Yeah, yeah, thanks. Whatever.” He mumbled, opening the door for you. “Bye, or whatever. Enjoy your… weed.”

“I will!” You giggled, blowing him a kiss. “Enjoy your payment.”

“Fuck off, you bitch.”

“Hm, how about I fuck you instead?” 

Eddie glared at you, closing the door on you before he sighed and walked to the table where his friends sat. Gareth looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Uh, I thought you hated her?”

“Yeah and I thought she hated you?” Jeff added, looking out the window as you got in your car.

“I do hate her. I fucking hate her guts.” 

And that was a true statement, technically…

Eddie might’ve hated your guts, but he also loved to rearrange them.

eddie tag list (and some people I think might like this!) : wanna be added? comment + let me know! @keeryhours ; @the-witty-pen-name ; @swiftieintheupsidedown ; @hawkinsmafia ; @pupwrites ; @clown420cunt ; @exploding-bonbon ; @borhapparker ; @corrodedcorpses ; @cowboylikemunson ; @alastorssimp ; @katethetank ; @myherometalhead ; @glassbxttless ; @losingmygrasponreality ; @the-unforgivenn ; @iitsmandii

[hoonharem]

recs

📓 all sunghoon, 18+.

tags: smut, fave (★)

—

❕ all are smut and sunghoon x reader (afab).

🔍 full warnings on original posts; read at your own risk.

—

📓 no to minimal plot

» we can’t be friends ★ (421, ex bf!hoon)

» guilty as charged (486, somnophilia)

» now he knows (943, jealous!hoon)

» good guys could never (1.3k, brother’s friend!hoon)

» bratty baby (1.4k, tamer!hoon)

» fuck me like a slut (1.4k, bf!hoon)

» you're on my mind and i want you as mine (1.4k, fwb!hoon)

» insatiable (1.5k, fingering)

» only you (1.6k, jealous!reader)

» you get me so high all the time (1.6k, smoking)

» what are friends for? (1.8k, bff!hoon)

» dangerously (1.8k, bf!hoon, angry sex)

» agora hills (1.9k, idol bf!hoon, somnophilia)

» missed you (1.9k, sub!hoon)

» bestfriend's older brother (1.9k, bff!taesan)

» sample session (2.1k, doctors)

» drip, drip, drip (2.1k, cunnilingus)

» i hate valentine's day (2.1k, bf!hoon)

» pretty boy in glasses, please save me ★ (2.2k, idol!hoon)

» heaven (2.2k, infidelity)

» carnal (2.3k, stepcest, dubcon)

» fuck boy next door (2.7k, tutor!hoon) 1/2

» fuck boy next door (3.3k, tutor!hoon) 2/2

» mine (2.4k, jealous!hoon, ex bf!jake)

» into it (2.6k, frat boy!hoon, fwb)

» all of you (2.7k, bf!hoon)

» subscriber benefits (2.8k, camboy!hoon)

» vacation (2.9k, bf!hoon)

» the lion and the lamb (3k, vampire!hoon)

» pent up (3.2k, idol!hoon, threesome with hee) 1/2

» first and last (3.4k, past love)

» tease (3.5k, possessive!hoon)

» six feet under (3.5k, cheating!hoon)

» okay (3.6k, fwb!hoon, hurt/comfort)

» drawn to you ★ (3.7k, cheating!hoon)

» always and forever (4k, makeup sex)

» cabin fever (4k, bf!hoon)

» conceal (4k, popular!hoon)

» look closely (4k, jealous!hoon)

» car sex (4.3k, street racer!hoon)

» picturesque (4.6k, bf!hoon)

» hard (4.9k, neighbor!hoon, threesome with jay) 1/3

» sweat (5k, neighbor!hoon) 2/3

» mark me yours (5k, idol!hoon, jealousy)

» scream (5k, bf!hoon, horror movie reference) 2/2

» liar, sweetheart (5.1k, twins!hoon, rivals to lovers)

» own little porn star (5.1k, professor!hoon)

» cool with you (5.6k, pervert!hoon)

» little bit of affection (5.7k, manager!hoon)

» bed (7.8k, fiance!hoon)

📓 with plot

» night shift (4.5k, camboy and boss!hoon)

» teach me, please (5.3k, student!hoon) 1/1

» teach me, please (5.1k, student!hoon) 2/2

» are you? (5.7k, bf!hee, reader cheats with hoon) 1/1

» are you mine? (2.5k, ex bf!hee, cheating with hoon) 2/2

» nudes i can't send ★ (6.4k, ex bf!hoon)

» blessed cursed (6.6k, demons, threesome with hee)

» say my name ★ (6.9k, neighbour!hoon, enemies to lovers)

» young, dumb, and full of (8k, pornstars, hyungline!fivesome)

» meddle about ★ (9k, fwb!hoon, threesome with hee) 1/2

» meddle about (with me) ★ (11.9k, fwb!hoon, ex bf!hee) 2/2

» first date etiquette ★ (9.3k, neighbor!hoon)

» forbidden attraction (9.3k, ravenclaw!hoon)

» cross the line (10k, a/b/o, threesome with hee)

» cherry pits (12.9k, dilf!hoon)

» get you better (13.6k, bf!jake, reader cheats with hoon)

» release me, embrace me ★ (15k, a/b/o, bff’s brother!hoon)

» pink whitney ★ (19k, brother's friend!hoon)

» one of the damned girls (20.4k, vampire!hoon)

» i’ll love you forever ★ (21.8k, bff!hoon, fake dating)

» gods and monsters ★ (23k, stepcest, love triangle) 1/3

» heaven and back ★ (24k, stepcest, love triangle) 2.1/3

» serial sweetheart ★ (23.6k, bf!hoon, reader cheats with jake)

» the boy next door trope ★ (26.5k, figure skater!hoon)

» deep end (36.6k, summer fling)

📓 hard thoughts, drabbles, etc.

» 24/7 thinking about you

» dirty girl (phone sex)

» jealous sex

» riding sunghoon's nose

» riding sunghoon's abs

» tired!sunghoon

» sweet bf!sunghoon

» ceo!sunghoon

» husband!sunghoon ★

» exboyfriend!sunghoon

» pussy drunk!sunghoon

» ravenclaw!sunghoon

» ovulating!reader ★

» cheating!reader

» high sex drive!reader

» favorite places to lick

— 📔 hyung line

» shared girlfriend (1.6k, gangbang, bf!hee)

» first time blowjob

» favorite positions

» member guessing by having sex

» cam boys

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❕ part 2 will be out soon.

[dooberific]

❝ 𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘗𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘐𝘵'𝘭𝘭 𝘓𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘓𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 ❞

harumasa x afab!reader

genre: slightly suggestive, we are back on the boy failure train

summary: reciprocity is the key to keeping all 'professional' relationships afloat

wc: 1.3k

note: I’m working on the requests submitted (plus my own ideas) and will have them queued to post over the next week or so! Thanks for the love ❤️

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You drawled as you propped up on your elbows, sunglasses tipping down your nose with a grin. 

The waves that rolled into Port Elpis had made for a perfect slow, rocking motion for a nap in the sunshine. It would have been a shame to not take advantage of it you had thought as you shimmied out of your top and stretched out across the deck of your boat. 

It was a sun kissed day in heaven in your book, the gentle crank of your fishing pole and the distant song of the gulls working their magic to lull you into a state of peace until you heard the telltale thump of feet down the pier in your direction. 

Harumasa sucked a breath between his teeth as he shook his head, fighting off a smile in the name of professional courtesy. “Tempting offer, but I’m on the clock so I’ll have to decline.” 

You shrugged, pushing your glasses back up as you folded your arms back behind your head. “Suit yourself, law man.” 

“You say that like your office isn’t right down the hall from mine.” 

You groaned, plucking the half empty beer can from your side, waving it in the air like a trophy. “I’m trying to conveniently forget that right now, Asaba.”

It was one of your coveted days off, and you wanted nothing more than to forget everything related to hollows, H.A.N.D, and Section 5 in favor of a cold beer and a basket of greasy fries from the stand at the parking lot by the marina.

“I’m gonna give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you need something from me, and not that you get off on watching girls sunbathe.”

“You’d guess right, but it’s not that I don’t appreciate the view,” he corrected as he stepped off the pier and onto the boat, footing unsteady with the bobbing of the waves that lapped at the sides of your vessel. 

He passed a Manila folder into your waiting hands, watching as you indiscernibly skimmed the contents behind your sunglasses. He crouched down beside you, head cocked as he watched your facial expression shift unpleasantly.

You snapped the envelope shut before raring back and smacking him across the chest with it, the force of your strike with the rolling of the boat dropping him from his heels to his ass with a oof!

“I told you I don’t do that kind of thing anymore. I’m a reformed—,”

“Member of society and a public servant, yeah yeah, but you are the only one who can help me with this!” 

“We have a whole department dedicated to cyber-related cases, Asaba.” 

“Okay fine you are the fastest way to get this done, but I’m practically begging on hands and knees here! Come on (y/n), we’ve been friends for years now. I wouldn’t ask you to do this if there was another way.” He rolled his lip out like a kicked puppy, but you could see the sincerity in his eyes even if he refused to fully break from his cheery, coy attitude. 

You sighed, head thumping against the deck as you mulled it over. Truthfully you had your mind made up already, you both had a healthy exchange of professional favors in your histories, and what was one more? What you wanted was honesty, because if he was asking you to stick your neck out it was the least he could do.

He had taken to pacing the deck now, your silence more disconcerting for him than your difficult attitude was. 

“This isn’t officially related to work is it?” 

He was silent, arms crossed as he stared out over the rolling blue waves, the tails of his headband fluttering in the same wind that tousled his hair. 

“No, it isn’t.”

Good enough, you weren’t one to pry too deeply. You already felt like you were a little more tuned into his personal issues than most others just from similar favors you had done for him in the past. 

“I’ll help you.” 

He whipped around, trademark smile curling his lips. “I knew you’d—“

“But you have to help me out first.” 

You stretched your arms above your head with a yawn, back arching invitingly off the deck. “I have no intention of leaving this deck, so be a dear and grab my laptop from inside—that’s not the favor though.” You quickly added as he hurriedly went to fetch your computer per request.

“What’s the favor then? Gonna ask me to scrub barnacles off your boat?” 

You snorted. “Nah, it’s just that on a day this pretty it’d be a shame to miss out on even an ounce of sunshine.” As you spoke your hands drifted from above your head, dragging slowly down the side of your neck to your chest as your shoulders bowed. 

You didn’t miss the way his eyes locked onto the trail of your fingertips as they drifted lower, ghosting over the contours of your stomach before slipping into the waistband of your shorts. Your hips lifted just enough to slip them past the curve of your ass, shimmying the fabric down till it hooked over an ankle. You kicked them off in his direction with a grin, watching him fumble to catch them before you slung a bottle of sunscreen at him as well. 

“Haru dear, be an angel and help me get my back.” 

You certainly weren’t expecting company when you had picked one of your…flimsier swimsuit sets to wear as you lounged on the water today, but the thick way he swallowed as you rolled to your stomach, propped on your elbows and drew your hair aside had you grinning like a lovestruck teenager. 

Shit, if he kept it up you’d have to invite him over more often. 

“I don’t have all day here~” You chided, twirling your hair around your finger as you peered at him over your glasses coyly.

“R-right, sorry,” he tossed your shorts aside, white-knuckling the sunscreen bottle as he hit his knees beside you. 

“Be gentle with me, Haru~” you cooed, relaxing your posture as you rested your chin on your crossed arms. 

You couldn’t help the way you tensed when his hands met your sun warmed skin, the cool temperature of the sunscreen on his palms a stark contrast. You could feel the callouses on his hands scratch at your skin as his fingers flexed hesitantly, kneading into the muscles along the curve of your spine. 

“You’re pretty good at this, I’d about pay to have to put your hands on me like this.” You mused aloud, feeling his hands pause  just shy of the tie on the back of your swim top as he cleared his throat. You rolled your head to the side.

“Don’t forget to get under the straps good, don’t want any unnecessary burn lines.”

His hands drifted higher, sliding under the straps of your swimsuit top and across your shoulders, the pressure of his fingertips akin to a massage as he worked the sunscreen into your skin despite the tremble in his hands.  You sighed dreamily as his hands retracted.

“Alright, you’re uh, you’re good.” 

“Perfect, thank you for that.” You hummed happily before you hooked your legs around his waist and shifted your weight, throwing him flat against the deck as you pinned him, one hand braced next to his face as you leaned over his proned form.

You tsked, drawing his chin up with your fingertips, enjoying how blown his golden eyes were with your proximity. “Haru, you need to get outside more, your little cheeks are awful red.” You cooed, watching his skin flush down his neck. 

You settled yourself back on his lap, wiggling your hips as he squirmed beneath you, your hands teasing the buttons of his shirt apart as you loosed the straps of his chest plate. Your hands splayed across his pectorals, as you leaned in close. 

“This could take a while,” you whispered, lips almost grazing his as you took care to grind against his lap. His breath hitched, hands latching onto your hips. 

“So how about you join me~?”

Rey 2024

[purplereina11]

🏀 Based after Eleven 🏀

Chapter 8

It started as playful online chemistry with someone unexpected-Alexia Putellas. Flirty banter turned into late-night texts before a heated moment on a club balcony shifted everything.

Now it was post game meet-ups, no-strings friends-with-benefits arrangement. They shared passion, comfort, and the grind of pro sports. But as the season went on, lines blurred.

It was supported to stay simple. These things never do however. Not in professional sports. The option to stay isn't always yours.

Mariona’s gaze flicked to Liv, like maybe she expected a lifeline. But Liv just sipped her drink, watching you carefully now, all traces of smugness gone. Maya muttered something under her breath and busied herself with rearranging the olives on her plate—clearly not wanting to get involved.

“Okay,” Mariona said cautiously, setting her glass down. “Maybe that came out wrong.”

“No, it came out loud and clear,” you said, keeping your voice even, detached—because if you didn’t, the heat building behind your ribs might crack you wide open.

She shifted in her seat, tapping her fingers against the side of her glass. “I’m not defending it. I just think… she doesn’t know how to deal with you.”

You scoffed. “What, like I’m some kind of puzzle?”

“More like… a live wire,” Maya mumbled, not looking up.

You glanced at her, but she still wouldn’t meet your eyes. The table had turned heavy now, air thick and humming with things unsaid.

Liv finally leaned forward, elbows on the table, chin resting in her palm. “So what’s your play then?” she asked, tone too casual to be innocent.

You raised an eyebrow. “You mean, now that I know she’s been stringing Vicky along to make me jealous?”

“Mhmm,” Liv nodded, swirling her wine.

"I've just followed and commented on Albas latest bikini post"

Mariona groaned immediately, dragging both hands down her face before burying it in her palms. “No. No no no—you didn’t. Oh, come on,” she muttered, muffled by her hands. “You did not.”

You leaned back against the booth, arms crossed, the tiniest edge of a smirk curling at your lips. “I did. Fire emoji and the one with the face is drooling and all”

Liv’s jaw actually dropped for a second before she burst out laughing. “You’re evil.”

“Thank you,” you said sweetly, taking a sip of your drink.

Mariona finally lifted her head, eyes wide. “Alba? Really? Of all people? You couldn’t have picked someone slightly less… personal?”

Maya looked up sharply, then blinked like she’d just caught up to the conversation. “Wait—Alba Alba? Are you serious right now? That’s her sister”

You nodded, raising your glass. “I’m aware,” you said, voice flat. “She wanted a reaction? She’s about to get one.”

Liv looked downright gleeful now. “Oh, this is gonna be so messy. I’m obsessed.”

“Please don’t encourage this,” Mariona muttered, scrubbing a hand over her face again. “Alexia’s going to see that and lose her entire mind.”

“That’s kind of the point,” you replied, voice cool. “She wants to play games? Let’s play.”

Maya shook her head. “You are poking a very emotionally unstable bear.”

“She poked first,” you said flatly. “She just didn’t expect me to poke back with claws.”

Liv raised her brows and leaned in like she was watching a car crash in slow motion—equal parts horror and fascination. “So what was the comment?”

You smiled, all teeth now. “She posted a bikini photo, her caption sun hits different lately” you dropped your phone to the table, "I commented Guess it does. Damn. Drool emoji Flame emoji"

Mariona smacked her forehead against the table with a thud. “That’s worse than I thought.”

“That’s perfect,” Liv corrected

Maya let out a long, slow exhale and leaned back. “You’re both insane.”

You didn’t disagree.

Because the game had changed now. And somewhere across the city, Alexia was probably staring at her phone, trying very hard not to throw it across the room.

--

The comment had been live for less than a couple of hours. Just enough time for you to scroll past it, toss your phone aside onto your sofa back home, and tell yourself you didn’t care. That it didn’t mean anything. Except… it did.

Because the moment you refreshed your feed and saw Alexia had viewed your story—the one you posted from dinner with Liv, Maya, and Mariona, all smiles and full glasses—it was clear she could of seen the comment too. Of course she had. It was Alba’s post. There was no not seeing it. You leaned back against the cushions, ice back on your ankle, tension thrumming just beneath your skin. You weren’t sure if you were satisfied, or anxious, or just bracing for impact.

It didn’t take long. Your phone buzzed with a text.

Alexia: Really?

Just that. No punctuation. No context. You didn’t reply right away. Let it sit. Let her squirm.

Then another.

Alexia: You’re flirting with my sister now?

You stared at it. And smiled. You tapped out a reply, slow and deliberate:

You: Not flirting. Just appreciating the view. 😏

The bubble popped up instantly, like she was ready to go off— Then it vanished. A minute later, it buzzed again.

Alexia: Don’t play games with me.

You stared at the message, pulse ticking in your jaw. The nerve. You typed without thinking.

You: Funny. I could’ve sworn that’s all you’ve been doing.

There was a long pause. You could feel her reading it, re-reading it, trying to figure out whether to respond or throw her phone.

And then—another text.

Alexia: We need to talk. In person.

You didn’t respond. You just locked your phone, tossed it on the coffee table again, and let the message hang in the air like smoke. She wanted to talk? Fine. But this time, it would be on your terms.

You didn’t answer her text. Not that night. Not the next morning. You didn’t ignore it out of spite—well, not entirely. It was more about holding the upper hand for once. About not jumping the second Alexia snapped her fingers, not folding just because she decided now was the time she wanted to talk. She’d been the one playing games. She’d been the one walking out. Let her sit in the silence for once.

You spent most of the next day with your foot elevated, rehabbing like a professional, and pretending not to check your phone every ten minutes. You weren’t waiting for her to text again.

But by early evening, as the sky turned pink through your window, your phone buzzed with a name you’d been expecting. Not a text this time. A call. Alexia. You let it ring. And ring. And then—picked up. “…Hello?”

Her voice was tight. Controlled. But not cold. “Are you home?”

You looked around your quiet apartment, tension already gathering in your chest. “Why?”

“I’m downstairs.” Of course she was.

You exhaled through your nose, pressed the bridge of it with your fingers. “You can’t keep showing up every time you don’t like something I do.”

“Then stop doing things to get a reaction,” she shot back.

You almost smiled. Almost. “Touché.”

Silence stretched on the line. Like she was pondering what you knew, then “Please just… can I come up?”

You didn’t answer. You buzzed her in. A few minutes later, there was a knock. You opened the door slowly. There she was. Hoodie. No makeup. Fire already burning in her eyes. 

She stepped in like a storm, brushing past you without waiting to be asked. “You seriously commented that on Alba’s post?” she snapped, turning back to face you as the door clicked shut.

You leaned against the frame, arms crossed. “You’re still on that?”

“Yes, I’m still on that. What the hell were you thinking?”

You laughed—sharp, tired, bitter. “Maybe I was thinking about how it felt watching you parade your ex around while pretending I don’t exist.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That’s not what that was.”

“Oh, come on,” you snapped, stepping forward. “You didn’t want her. You just wanted to see how fast I’d react when she showed up at your door.”

“That’s not true.”

“Then what is true, Alexia?” you fired back, voice rising. “That we only work when we’re naked and fucking? That this only makes sense when you’re crawling into my bed, and everything else gets swept under the rug?”

She flinched. “Don’t twist this like I’m the only one playing games.”

“Right, because you showing up every time we fight to remind me how good it is in bed—that’s not a game?”

“I didn’t come here to sleep with you,” she shot back.

“No?” you scoffed. “Then why are we shouting in my living room again? What are we even doing, Alexia?”

She stepped closer. Too close. “I don’t know!” And then—she grabbed your face and kissed you. Hard. Fierce. Like a fuse had been lit inside her. It hit you like a wave—heat, anger, heartbreak, all tangled together. Her hands were desperate, her mouth familiar and wild against yours, like if she kissed you hard enough, she could silence all the things she didn’t want to say.

But you didn’t melt this time. You pushed her back, panting, hands still gripping her wrists. “What the hell are you doing?” you demanded, heart hammering.

Alexia stood there, flushed, lips parted, chest rising and falling. And then she said, bitter and breathless, “Isn’t this what we do now? Fight. Fuck. Repeat.” The words hung between you like a slap.

You stood there, staring at her—your pulse still pounding from the kiss, from the heat of the argument, from everything. The air between you was heavy, volatile, laced with something that felt just as dangerous as it did familiar. You blinked slowly, jaw tight. Then, your voice came low. Calm—but cutting. “So you did come over to fuck.”

Alexia didn’t flinch. She looked at you square in the face, jaw set, defiant. “No.” Then she took a breath and said something that made your stomach twist.

You stepped back, finally. Put space between you and the fire still burning in her eyes. “I’m not gonna keep doing this,” you said. “I’m not gonna keep letting you walk in here like this place—and I—belong to you.”

Alexia’s shoulders tensed as you stepped back. Her jaw clenched like she was holding herself together by a thread. You could see the flicker in her eyes—anger, guilt, something else trying to break through. She glanced away for a second, just enough to give herself time to reset, and then levelled you with a look.

“So this is what we’re doing now?” she asked, her voice sharp, wounded. “Dragging my sister into this? You really think Alba deserves to get caught in your mess just because you’re pissed at me?”

You laughed again—this time quieter, rougher. “My mess? That’s rich coming from you. Don’t act like you’re suddenly the moral compass here.”

Alexia’s expression twisted. “This isn’t about morality. It’s about respect. You don’t use people like that.”

“Oh please,” you snapped. “Like you didn’t pull the same stunt with Vicky.”

She blinked, caught off guard for just a second. Then her face hardened. “That’s not the same.”

“The hell it’s not,” you said, stepping forward again, voice rising. “You didn’t give a damn about Vicky. You just wanted me to see her, to wonder, to burn. And you knew exactly what you were doing.”

Alexia scoffed, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe you were saying it. “You’re paranoid.”

You grinned, sharp and cold. “What? Didn’t think I’d figure it out?” You tilted your head slightly, letting the smugness cut through your voice. “I’m not stupid, Alexia.”

Her mouth opened, then closed. You could see the words behind her eyes, the ones she wanted to hurl but knew would do real damage. And then—there it was. That flicker of guilt again. That flash of you-caught-me-even-if-I-hate-it.

She crossed her arms tight across her chest, like she could hold it all in. “You’re twisting everything.”

“No,” you said, your tone low now, calm like before the crack of thunder. “I’m just done pretending I don’t see the games.”

Her breath hitched, barely, but enough. Enough to let you know you’d struck something real. “You think this gives you the high ground?” she asked, voice steady but glass-thin. “Using Alba to hit back at me? That doesn’t make you right. It just makes you petty.”

You shrugged, the smirk still playing at the corners of your mouth. “And you showing up uninvited, starting fights, kissing me like you’re still allowed to? That’s what—mature?”

Alexia’s jaw twitched. “I came here to talk.”

“No,” you said, walking past her now, not even looking at her. “You came here to win. Like you always do. You just didn’t expect me to stop playing.”

She didn’t follow you right away. Didn’t speak. Just stood there in the silence, like she was trying to figure out what to do now that the script had changed.

When you turned back to face her, she was staring at the floor, hands fists at her sides. “I’m not your punching bag,” you said simply. “And I’m sure as hell not your backup plan when you get bored.”

Alexia looked up then, eyes rimmed red, but the fire hadn’t left. “You think I’m bored of you?”

“I think you don’t know what the hell you want,” you said. “And I’m done paying the price for your confusion.”

There was a long pause. Just breathing. Just tension. Then Alexia said, almost too quietly, “I don’t want to lose you.”

You looked at her for a long second, heart aching against your better judgment. But your voice was firm when you answered. “You never had me”

Alexia didn’t move, but her voice came sharp, slicing through the space between you like it hurt her just to say it. “So it was just sex for you?” she asked, her tone raw, cracking at the edges. “You never considered me a friend?”

You froze. That question—of all the things she could’ve said, that one knocked the wind out of you for a second. Not because it surprised you, but because you knew how badly she needed the answer to be no.

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck, eyes drifting to the wall like it would offer you a way out of this moment. But there wasn’t one. Not anymore.

“Alexia…” you started, voice low. You shook your head. “You’re not just some hookup, alright? You never were.”

“Then why do you treat me like one?” she snapped, stepping forward again. “Why does everything have to turn into this tug-of-war where we’re always trying to hurt each other more than the last time?”

“Because you started playing games with feelings,” you shot back. “Because one minute I’m the person you can’t live without here by the fucking minute and the next I’m a ghost until you get bored or lonely or jealous enough to remember I exist. Or horny enough because apparently your girlfriend can’t fuck you right”

“That’s not fair—”

“No, you’re not fair,” you cut her off. “You show up like a hurricane, wreck everything, then act surprised when I stop trying to be your friend.”

Alexia blinked, but stayed rooted. “I wasn’t trying to wreck anything. I just… I didn’t know how to be around you without wanting more.”

That hung there. Real. Vulnerable. Too late. You took a breath, slow and shaky. “And you thought dragging your ex around, sleeping with me, then ghosting, then showing up again to fight and fuck, was better than saying that?”

“I was scared,” she said quietly.

“So was I,” you admitted. “Still am. But I didn’t lie about what this meant to me. I didn’t hide behind my ex, or silence.”

Her lips parted. She looked like she might cry, but you both knew she wouldn’t let herself. That wasn’t her style. She’d storm out first. Slam a door. Set a fire. “I just wanted you to see me,” she said, almost a whisper.

You met her eyes. “I always did. With your ex in tow. It didn’t draw me in Alexia, it pushed me away, I’m no ones second choice.”

The silence that followed wasn’t angry anymore. It wasn’t loud. It was tired. Heavy with the weight of everything said and unsaid over months, maybe years. Alexia looked around the room like it wasn’t hers to be in anymore. Like she was already halfway gone.

Then you said, barely above a breath, “Go home, I’m sure your girlfriend is wondering where you are.” And that, finally, broke something in her. Not visibly. No tears. No dramatic collapse. Just the smallest retreat in her eyes. A quiet surrender.

She walked past you, slow, like each step cost her something. At the door, she paused, her hand on the knob.

“She isn’t my girlfriend,” she said, without looking back. You didn’t answer. You’d heard it all before. She opened the door. And this time, she didn’t look back.

--

It wasn’t the call you’d hoped for.

You sat at the far end of the practice facility, ankle still taped from your last session, phone pressed to your ear, tension riding your spine like armour. Your agent’s voice filtered through the line—calm, clear, but laced with the kind of tone you’d learned to expect when news wasn’t good.

“They’re lowballing you,” she said bluntly. “Again.”

You didn’t respond right away, just stared through the tall windows as your teammates warmed up on the court. Barcelona’s logo shone from the centre, bold and clean, and for the first time, it didn’t feel like it belonged to you. “Tell me the number,” you said finally.

She did.

You clenched your jaw. “That’s less than I’m on now.”

“I know.”

You let out a bitter laugh, leaning forward to press your elbows to your knees. “After everything?”

“They’re banking on your loyalty,” she said. “On the hype around the league title. On the connection you’ve built here. But they’re not backing that belief up financially. They’re assuming you’ll stay because of the badge.”

You stared at the floor, voice low. “And the WNBA offers?”

There was a pause. Then, “Big. Real big.”

You knew what she meant. Endorsements. Cities that would roll out the red carpet. A league where you could own your moment instead of constantly proving you deserved it.

“You’d be a franchise face,” she said. “They’re not treating you like a project. They’re treating you like a star.”

The weight of it sat heavy on your chest. “I need time,” you said, barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have much,” your agent replied. “Deadline’s closing in. You have to start asking yourself what you want this next phase of your career to look like—and who’s going to actually help you get there.”

The call ended, but the pressure didn’t.

You sat there, still as the court buzzed on the other side of the glass. The sound of bouncing balls and shouted plays was distant, like another world.

And you knew it wasn’t just about Barcelona anymore.

It was about whether you were willing to stay somewhere that didn’t value you the way you’d proven you deserved to be. And, whether the person who made this place feel like home... Would still be around if you chose to stay

--

You weren’t expecting to run into anyone—let alone her.

It was early evening, the kind of golden hour where the streets of the city felt a little softer around the edges, like they were pretending not to know the weight of your thoughts. You’d just ducked into a small café near the edge of Parc de la Ciutadella, hoodie up, ankle still a bit stiff, sunglasses on despite the fading sun. You weren’t hiding exactly. Just… trying not to be seen.

And that’s when you saw them.

Alba. And her mother.

You nearly turned on your heel. But Alba had already clocked you.

Her lips curled into a grin, mischievous and amused. “Well look who it is,” she said, stepping out from the café doorway, iced coffee in hand. “If it isn’t Barcelona’s most unbothered heartbreaker.”

Her mother glanced up from rummaging through her purse, then gave you a polite smile—tight, knowing. You managed an awkward wave.

“Hi, Mrs. Putellas,” you said.

Alba's mom nodded, but didn’t linger. “I’ll be inside,” she told Alba quietly, giving her a look that said behave. Then she disappeared through the café doors, leaving you alone with the one person who definitely should’ve hated you right now… but didn’t.

Alba cocked her head, sipping her drink like she wasn’t the sister of the person you’d emotionally lit on fire just a day ago. “So… the bikini comment? Really?”

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “Look, I didn’t—”

“I loved it,” she said with a laugh, cutting you off. “Bold. Reckless. Hot, honestly. You really had her pressed, huh?”

You blinked. “Wait… you’re not mad?”

“Oh, I’m definitely judging you,” she smirked. “But also? I’ve been waiting for someone to knock her off her high horse for years. You just… chose chaos. And me. Which was… weird. But iconic.”

You let out a breath of a laugh, tension easing just a bit.

But then Alba’s smile faded, just enough for the shift in tone to land.

“Look,” she said, taking a step closer, voice dropping. “I’m not here to tell you what to do with Alexia. She’s a grown woman. And stubborn as hell. But she’s not built for this kind of back-and-forth. You’re breaking her.”

You stiffened, lips pressing together.

Alba raised an eyebrow. “She hasn’t slept. Barely speaks. She’s spinning. And she’s not good at not being in control, so… you’ve got her all twisted up. Just—if you’re done, be done. If you’re not… stop dragging it out. Put her out of her misery.”

You looked down at your hands, at the cup between them, cold now. “It’s not that simple.”

Alba crossed her arms, expression unimpressed. “Why not?”

You hesitated, then shook your head. “Because I don’t know what I’m doing. With anything. My contract’s up, they’re lowballing me, I’ve got offers from the W, and I don’t even know what country I’m gonna be in three months from now.”

Alba’s face softened, just a little. “Okay… but what does that have to do with her?”

“I can’t settle her,” you said quietly. “Not when I don’t even know where I’m going next. Not when my life’s about to change.”

She looked at you for a long moment. Then: “So let her go.”

You blinked.

“She’s not good at waiting,” Alba said. “And she definitely isn’t good at wondering. So if you’re not gonna stay, don’t leave the door open. Don’t give her just enough to hope.”

You looked out toward the street, where the lights were just starting to flicker on. “Maybe she should just go back to Vicky,” you muttered. “She’s clearly not done with her if she’s still keeping her around.”

Alba made a face. “Vicky was a move. A dumb one. A calculated, emotionally stunted, classic Alexia move. But trust me… that ship’s already sunk.”

You looked at her again, surprised by the certainty in her tone.

She rolled her eyes. “I know my sister. And whatever you two had? Have? It’s way deeper than anything she ever had with Vicky.”

You didn’t say anything. Couldn’t.

Alba sighed, tilting her head. “I’m not saying you have to be with her. But you do have to stop screwing her up just to make a point. You’re not the only one hurting.”

You swallowed hard, throat tight. “I never wanted to hurt her.”

“Then stop doing it on purpose,” she said simply.

The café door swung open behind her. Her mother poked her head out, lifting a brow. Alba waved her off.

Then she looked back at you, softer now. “You don’t have to fix her,” she said. “Just stop breaking her.”

And with that, she walked away.

Leaving you there, holding the weight of her words in your hands like something fragile and sharp all at once.

--

You didn’t plan on going to her place. You didn’t even know why your feet took you there—why, after that conversation with Alba, after every reason not to show up, you still found yourself in front of her door.

You stood there for a moment, hand hovering just above the buzzer, heart pounding with something tangled—regret, anger, desire, confusion. You were supposed to be thinking clearly. You weren’t supposed to want this again.

But then the door opened.

She must’ve seen you through the peephole, or maybe she’d just known. Like always.

Alexia stood there in sweats, hair up, no makeup, just socks on her feet and that storm still brewing behind her eyes. But it wasn’t angry this time. It was… bare.

And whatever words you thought you had prepared—about closure, about space, about not playing games anymore—they vanished.

Because the second your eyes locked, something cracked open between you like lightning splitting the air.

And then you were kissing.

Hard. Sudden. Like gravity had tilted toward each other and neither of you could fight it this time.

Her hand was in your hair, your arms pulling her closer, mouths crashing like waves after a long drought. She tugged you inside, the door slamming behind you, your backs hitting walls, fingers fisting in clothes, breathless and messy and urgent.

You didn’t speak. Not yet. Words would only get in the way.

It wasn’t about revenge or winning. Not this time.

It was about every unsaid word. Every night you didn’t text back. Every morning she woke up and didn’t find you there. It was months of silence and hurt and want and love, all bleeding into this one chaotic, desperate, perfectly ruined kiss.

She broke away just long enough to breathe, her forehead resting against yours, lips swollen, eyes wide with something that felt like surrender.

Her hands found the hem of your shirt like they’d been there a thousand times—and maybe they had. Maybe muscle memory knew what the mind was too hesitant to admit.

The kiss deepened, slowed, sharpened. Her fingers brushed under the cotton, knuckles grazing your skin with a reverence that only made the heat rise faster. She pulled back just enough to look at you, wordless question in her eyes, like she needed you to stop her if this wasn’t where it should go.

You didn’t.

So she lifted your shirt slowly, fingers brushing up your spine, and tugged it over your head. Her breath caught—just slightly—when she saw the bra beneath it. She didn’t hesitate this time. Not with you. Her fingers found the clasp, unhooked it like a secret she still remembered, and slipped the straps down your arms. It hit the floor soft.

You backed into the table behind you as she stepped forward, pressing her palms flat against your bare ribs like she was grounding herself, like the truth lived under your skin. The wood was cool against your thighs when you leaned, half-sitting on the edge, her body slotting between your legs as if the space had always been made for her.

She kissed your collarbone, slow and aching, like the apology she couldn’t quite say out loud. Then lower. Then lower.

Your hands threaded into her hair, tilting her back up to face you, foreheads brushing again.

No one spoke.

Because this wasn’t just about sex, and it never had been.

It was about everything that burned between you—words unsaid, time wasted, love that never got the chance to settle long enough to be safe.

And now, here, under dim lights and the shadow of something you couldn’t name, it all came spilling out in touch, in breath, in the way she looked at you like she still wanted every version of you, even the one that walked away.

You weren’t sure where this was going. But for now, you let yourself fall into her hands like maybe—for once—it didn’t have to be war.

Her hands were already working at your shorts, dragging her fingertips along your skin like a tease before she gave the softest instruction, “Lift for me.”

You did, and in one smooth motion, she pulled your shorts and underwear down together, dragging them past your thighs like she had all the time in the world. Your pulse thrummed, your breath shallow as she trailed kisses down your stomach. Her presence between your legs, electric. She pulled a chair up like it was a throne, sat down slow and confident, resting her hands on your knees before gently pushing them apart.

Comfortable. Controlled. Completely focused on you. What came next wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t wild. It was methodical.

With your eyes closed and your breath coming in short, ragged gasps in anticipation, you felt Alexia's breath on your thighs before her tongue met your skin. She took her time, kissing and licking, leaving a trail of heat and anticipation as she moved closer to where you most wanted her. Each brush of her lips made your legs quiver, your body begging for more. When she finally reached the juncture between your thighs, you felt the softness of her tongue part your folds, the wetness of her mouth pressing against your clit.

A soft moan escaped your lips as you lay back against her cool dining table, and Alexia's eyes lifted to watch you, filled with a dark hunger that matched your own. She didn't say anything, but you knew she was watching your every reaction, savouring every little sound you made. You felt her hand slide up your inner thigh, her fingers curling gently before sliding inside you. The sensation was overwhelming—the warmth of her mouth, the slickness of her tongue, the pressure of her fingers. It was all too much and not enough at the same time.

You, unable to form coherent words as she began to move her tongue in slow, deliberate circles, her fingers curling and uncurling inside you. The tension grew, coiling tighter and tighter with each stroke.

The tension hung in the air, thick with desire. You could only moan again, your voice lost to the pleasure she was giving you. Your moans was all the answer she needed, and she redoubled her efforts, her tongue moving faster, her fingers pressing deeper, until you were writhing on the table.

Your eyes snapped open, staring at the ceiling as you felt Alexia's other hand join in, her fingers sliding over your breast in perfect rhythm with her mouth. The sensation was intense, the pleasure so sharp it was almost painful. Her eyes remained on your face, a silent conversation passing between her, and you knew she wouldn't stop until you were begging for release.

"Please," you finally whispered, the word barely audible. "Don't stop" You breathe before moaning again, "'m gonna come"

Alexia's smile grew, and she took your clit between her lips, sucking gently as her fingers danced around it, playing you like an instrument. The combination was exquisite, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of something incredible.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, and you arched your back, crying out as pleasure surged through every inch of your body. Alexia didn't miss a beat, her mouth and hands moving in sync, drawing out the sensation until it was all you could do to stay still.

As the aftershocks of your climax began to subside, Alexia, her cheeks flushed and her eyes gleaming with satisfaction, she kissed the inside of your thigh, her thumb brushing over your clit one last time before she sat back in the chair, her gaze never leaving yours.

You watched as she licked her lips, savouring the taste of you. Her hands remained on you, trailing up your legs to your hips, then up over your stomach to cup your breasts. She massaged them gently, her thumbs flicking over the hardened peaks of your nipples. Your breath hitched at the contact, the sensation still so intense.

Alexia's eyes studied you, watching your chest rise and fall as you tried to regain your breath. She leaned in closer, her hot breath fanning over your skin as she whispered, "You're so beautiful when you come."

The compliment sent a fresh wave of warmth through you, making your cheeks burn even more.

Alexia’s gaze flicked up to meet yours again, she leaned in closer, her breath tickling your skin as she kissed your inner thigh. Her hands didn’t stop moving—they slid down to your thighs, her thumbs brushing against your inner thighs before moving up again.

The tension in the room grew thick, the air charged with unspoken need.

Her eyes remained on her hands as they continued their journey, tracing the lines of your body as if committing them to memory. She watched the way your skin responded to her touch—how it goose bumped when she grazed you with her nails, how your breathing hitched when she applied just the right amount of pressure.

And all the while, still she watched you—your face, your chest, the way your stomach muscles tightened and released with each breath. She took in every little reaction, storing them away for later, like a treasure trove of secrets only she had the map to.

The room was filled with the sound of your breathing, the occasional sigh or gasp escaping your lips. It was all you could focus on—her hands, her eyes, the way she seemed to be worshipping you with every gentle caress.

She gently took your leg off her shoulder, "You want a drink?"

You swallowed as reality struck again, "..Please"

Alexia helped you sit upright, her hands lingering at your waist for just a second longer than necessary before she stepped back, brushing loose strands of hair behind her ears like she needed something to do with her hands.

“I’ve got that citrus sparkling water you like,” she said casually, already walking to the fridge, like you hadn’t just shattered all the walls between you moments ago.

You slid off the table carefully, legs still a little shaky, your pulse still a quiet thrum under your skin. You pulled your shirt back over your head slowly—mechanically—suddenly aware of how exposed you still felt, even clothed.

“Thanks,” you said, voice low.

She handed you the drink without looking at you for too long. You both avoided eye contact, like maybe eye contact would break the illusion that this was normal. That it hadn’t just been something. That there wasn’t still a conversation looming between the two of you, thick and heavy, sitting in the room like another person.

You leaned against the kitchen counter while she busied herself at the sink, rinsing out a glass she didn’t end up using.

“So,” she said after a beat, still not facing you. “You, uh… you’re still taping the ankle?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Trainer said another week of low load before I can really test it.”

“Right. Good.”

You both sipped at your drinks like they were shields. Like carbonation could fill the silence instead of words.

You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but nothing came out.

Alexia sighed, setting her glass down on the counter. “It’s weird, isn’t it?” she said. “That we can do… that”—she gestured vaguely toward the table—“but still not know how to talk without tearing each other apart.”

You gave a quiet, humorless laugh. “Yeah. It’s almost like we’re better at pretending nothing happened.”

There was a pause. Then she nodded. “Almost.”

It wasn’t cold between you now. Just... quieter. Muted. Like a song you both knew by heart, but no longer wanted to sing out loud. You weren’t angry. She wasn’t either. But you were both tired. And maybe, a little afraid.

Alexia turned to you again, leaning her hip against the counter. “So. What now?”

You looked at her, really looked, and the answer sat heavy on your tongue, but didn’t make it past your lips.

“I don’t know,” you said instead.

You both stood there, side by side in a kitchen that had known heat and heartbreak, your shoulders just close enough to brush if one of you shifted an inch. But you didn’t. Neither of you did.

You finished your drink, set it on the counter with a soft clink, and reached for your jacket. “I should probably go,” you said.

Alexia didn’t stop you. She didn’t ask you to stay. She just nodded again, like she’d already expected that answer.

You walked to the door, hand on the knob, then paused. Glanced back. Her eyes met yours.

“Thanks,” you said.

“For what?” she asked, voice quiet.

You thought about it for a second. Then: “I don't know, the orgasm I guess”

She didn’t smile. But she didn’t look away, either. “Welcome.”

And with that, you opened the door and stepped into the night. Not sure if you were walking away… or just buying time before you turned around again.

[icantbelieveitsnotbutler]

Sebastian Trying to Comfort Ciel (or himself?) Through Touch

This post discusses a scene that should be in this Saturday's anime episode (episode 3 of the green witch arc), so don't read it if you don't want to be spoiled.

The scene where Sebastian learns Ciel has been blinded is one of the scenes I was referring in this post, in which Toboso makes the reader question whether Sebastian is as emotionally detached as we have been lead to believe.

It is also related to my post about how Ciel simultaneously trusts and mistrusts Sebastian, because despite Ciel knowing he can't trust Sebastian, his body has come to associate Sebastian's proximity and touch with safety. I don't know if Ciel is aware of this, but Sebastian seems to be, though perhaps only unconsciously.

Sebastian knows humans are comforted by physical touch, and that includes even his touch-averse master in the right circumstances.

But after being exposed to poison gas and triggered during the treatment, he rejects Sebastion when he reaches out to comfort him. This isn't that unusual; sometimes being touched will only distress him more.

What is unusual is Sebastian's reaction. In the beginning of their contract, when Ciel rejected him, Sebastian immediately backed off. He wasn't yet emotionally invested, so it didn't matter to him if Ciel is upset, as long as he's physically intact.

After Madame Red's death, he seemed to care a bit more, his hand hovering in the air for another attempt.

But this time he keeps trying to touch him, even when Ciel moves across the entire huge bed and clings to Finny to get away from him. He's confused by this rejection; Ciel seemed to have stopped rejecting his touch after the end of the circus arc.

He's not trying to physically examine him: Sullivan already handled his physical injuries. He's noticed that there's something distressing his master and by reaching out, he's trying to ground and reassure Ciel, or maybe even himself.

Tanaka has to physically stop him. He didn't back off, despite his touch obviously making Ciel upset, because he is no longer able to maintain his emotional distance. He didn't immediately realize Ciel was blind, despite him saying it's dark in a brightly lit room and recently being exposed to something that could have damaged his eyes, for the same reason. When he does realize, he says "masaka," which means "no way" or "it can't be."

He stands there with his mouth hanging open long enough for Tanaka to switch which hand he's using to hold Sebastian's wrist and put the other hand on Sebastian's back. Sebastian was trying to comfort Ciel, but now Tanaka is comforting Sebastian.

But why is Sebastian so perturbed? Ciel's blindness might make his job harder, but it's probably not going to affect the taste of his soul. And Sebastian is obviously disturbed even before realizing Ciel was blind.

His inexperience with this type of injury and Ciel's unexpected confusion and regression have unsettled him enough that he can't think rationally, only uselessly trying to reach out to his master. The thought of using Ciel's vulnerability for his own benefit doesn't even cross his mind. He truly seems to care about Ciel in this moment.

Of course, after Toboso makes you doubt Sebastion's detachment, she then tries to make you second guess that doubt. If anyone is interested, I have a post about that moment, too (containing spoilers for future episodes).

[dyns33]

Family's bet

ALFIE IS BACK !!! I need to post one Alfie story per month or I explode or something.

Most of the time, Y/N stayed out of the conflicts between her brothers and her husband.

They didn't happen as often as you'd think, and most of the time they were over ridiculous matters that were resolved as quickly as they arose.

Furthermore, neither the Shelbys nor Alfie had ever asked her to play referee, as if they knew perfectly well what her answer would be, guessing her silent rule of neutrality, or didn't want to put her in such an embarrassing situation.

Only in the rare case where one of the parties dared to do something very serious would Y/N feel compelled to intervene.

If asked, and after a moment of hesitation, she would have admitted that she thought that if one of them decided to make a mistake, it would probably be Alfie. The King of Camden was known for breaking certain pacts when they no longer benefited him, in favor of more interesting partners. Business, nothing personal.

At the same time, these only concerned pacts with disreputable people or those he didn't like, who themselves hadn't always followed the terms of the contract, trying to double-cross him in one way or another.

Alfie Solomons didn't necessarily like the Peaky Blinders very much, they had a complicated history, but they were family now. He'd have to have a good reason to stab them in the back again.

To a more objective observer, it was more likely that it would be a Shelby who made a mistake. Arthur, John or Finn, given their temperaments. It was hard to say for the others, who covered themselves with a supposed veil of honesty and honor.

So it was with determination and anger in her heart that Y/N went to her brother Tommy's office to have a talk when she learned what he had done.

"Can you explain this to me, Thomas ?"

"Hello, little sister," he said, remaining seated and continuing to smoke calmly.

"Can you explain to me why several of the "bread" warehouses in South London burned down, and why I'm told your men were seen in the area just before the fires when they had no business being there ? And why, shortly afterward, you signed a sale with several of Alfie's customers, adding that you were sorry that their "bread" delivery wouldn't be possible this month ?"

"I have good reasons."

"I'm going to need more than that."

"Don't you trust me ?"

"Of course, that's not the question. Answer me."

"If you trust me, knowing I have good reasons should be enough for you."

After several years of marriage, Y/N had learned to take a deep breath during a conversation that seemed to be going nowhere, knowing full well that, with the men in her circle, shouting was pointless.

This was even more true with Tommy. Unflappable, vicious as a snake, he always managed to gain the upper hand, seizing the slightest weakness to turn it against his enemies and get what he wanted.

Without any qualms, he used the same method with his family, managing to make them feel guilty or stupid if they didn't go his way. It didn't work with everyone. Especially the women. Polly, Ada, and Y/N knew him all too well.

It wouldn't work this time.

"You know people are talking, right ? They're wondering what's going on. More importantly, they're wondering if this calls Alfie's authority into question. You publicly humiliated him. I haven't seen him yet, but I imagine he was surprised by the news and will want a good explanation so he doesn't wring your neck."

"Mr. Solomons is intelligent, he'll listen to me. And he'll never resort to violence, he knows you wouldn't approve."

"Just this once, I might make an exception," Y/N growled, standing proudly before him. "Don't use me in your schemes, Tom. Don't think for a second that this will be enough to protect you. If Alfie senses the slightest possibility of getting revenge with my permission, he won't hesitate."

Still calm, Tommy stared at her for a long time, blowing out the smoke from his cigarette. There were several possible outcomes. The calm before the storm. But Y/N wouldn't tremble, not this time. Not when her husband's honor was at stake, brother or not.

Seeing her determination, Thomas nodded, before flashing a small smile. She even thought she heard him chuckle.

"Tell Alfie he'll get a nice compensation. I'll take care of the rumors."

"I don't care about your compensation, I…"

"Y/N. Trust me. He knows why I did what I did."

Alfie didn't know why Thomas had done what he had done. As furious as she had imagined, he paced around his office, screaming like a madman and threatening the entire world.

He didn't calm down much when he learned that Y/N had gone to see her brother. At least, not before she told him she'd gone to him to reprimand him, and more or less gotten what looked like an apology.

It wasn't like Thomas Shelby to apologize, admit he was wrong, and look for a way to avoid the Wandering Jew's wrath since he didn't have his little sister's protection in this matter.

"… He apologized ?" Alfie repeated suspiciously.

"In Tommy-speak, you could say that. With a nice, annoying smile."

"And he said I knew why he did it ?"

"Did you do something ?" Y/N asked, narrowing her eyes, searching for any sign of nervousness in her husband.

But no. As far as Alfie was concerned, he hadn't done anything that deserved punishment. And if he'd done something, Thomas wouldn't have mentioned compensation, he would have simply taken what was due to him and let him deal with the consequences of his actions. For once, Solomons had nothing to be ashamed of.

He seemed to suddenly have a revelation when he saw Y/N ranting at her idiot brother. He stopped breathing for a moment, his eyes wide, and froze in his seat.

"The bastard."

"What ? Alfie, what ?"

"That dirty little bastard… He thinks he's clever. I'm going to kill him."

"You're not killing anyone until you explain what's going on !"

It turned out Thomas and Alfie had made some kind of bet. Well, not really, they hadn't shaken hands after spitting, and he hadn't discussed what the winner would get or what the loser would give.

But, at a family gathering, Alfie had affirmed that if she had to choose, his wife would always side with her brothers. He wasn't offended by this fact. He understood the importance of family, he admired that loyalty, that love. It was simply an observation on his part.

To this, Tommy had retorted that he was wrong. Of course their sister loved them, and because she loved them, she would kick their asses if they did something horrible for no good reason, especially if it was against him.

Unsurprisingly, this led to an argument, quickly forgotten the next day. At least, by Alfie, Arthur, John, and most of the other players.

Not Thomas.

Clearly, he hadn't appreciated anyone questioning his sister's impartial integrity. Or maybe he just found it amusing to prove Solomons wrong.

Part of his "compensation" was a proof of love, the absolute certainty that his wife would be on his side if anyone wronged him, even her own kin. Too bad it was bound to be accompanied by Tommy's mocking smile every time he saw him from now on.

"You are idiots. I knew I should never deal with your problems."

"I didn't ask you, treacle. You were the one who went to him, instead of coming to cheer me up. That hurts me greatly, by the way. Wicked woman, leaving me alone with my despair to go see her brother."

"Be very careful, Alfred."

"… You're furious with him, not me. Remember, love."

"You two could end up tied if you push your luck. Don't ever bet on me again."

"But I didn't… He was the one who… Yes, love. Sorry, love, I'll shut up now."

Y/N called her brother to give him the same order, which made him laugh, though he accepted her request without the slightest concern, before asking if her husband was okay.

She hung up without answering. Bastard indeed.

[piastrisun]

the way you leave.

pairings: carlos sainz + female reader.

summary: one confession was all it took for everything to fall apart. now, carlos is running, and you’re left questioning if it was ever real to him at all.

genre: angst.⠀word count: 1.1k.⠀ warning: none.

notes: happy valentine’s day!! <3 i know it’s a day about love but i decided to post something about heartbreak. i hope you like it.

the air in your apartment is thick with the lingering heat of what just happened, your breaths still uneven as you straddle him, your lips moving slowly, languidly against his. his hands rest on your waist, thumbs tracing idle circles against your skin, but there’s something else in his touch now—something restrained, hesitant.

then, his voice cuts through the haze.

“what are you thinking?”

you barely pull back, your lips still brushing against his as you whisper, “right now? in what’s going on here. kissing you.”

carlos huffs out a small chuckle, but there’s an edge to it. “kissing me?”

you nod, your fingers threading into his hair, tugging lightly as if grounding yourself. “yeah. you, i guess. thinking about you.”

something flickers in his dark eyes, something unreadable. his grip on your waist tightens just slightly. “is that so?” his voice is quieter now, more careful. “do you think about me only when this happens?”

the shift in his tone makes you hesitate, blinking at him in confusion. “what do you mean?”

he exhales, dropping his head back against the couch for a second before looking at you again. “just wondering. if you think about me at other times—through the day.”

your stomach twists, an uneasy feeling creeping up your spine. this is new. he’s never asked you things like this before, never pushed past the comfortable, unspoken rules of whatever this is.

“what?” you try to keep your voice light, but it wavers. “why are you asking me this?”

carlos swallows, his jaw tightening for a second before he says, “look, i’m gonna get going in half an hour. can we be honest for once in those thirty minutes?”

there’s something about the way he says it, like he’s bracing himself for something, and it makes your chest tighten. you shift slightly in his lap, trying to read his expression.

“sure.” you shrug, forcing a smirk, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “i’d say… i think about you sometimes. not weirdly. but yeah, sometimes you cross my mind.”

a beat of silence stretches between you, and then—

“oh.”

that’s all he says.

your brows knit together, irritation sparking in your chest. “that’s what you have to say?”

carlos shifts beneath you, his hands slipping away from your waist as he clears his throat. “i think we should be just friends,” he says, carefully, like he’s testing the weight of the words. “not doing this anymore.”

the world tilts for a second, your stomach plummeting. “i’m sorry?”

he exhales, already moving, already reaching for his clothes, his phone, his keys. “yeah. let’s stop this mess.”

your breath catches, and then—then you laugh, sharp and bitter. “you’re running away from this because i said i think about you sometimes? is that what’s happening?”

he doesn’t answer. he just keeps moving, avoiding your gaze, slipping his shirt back on like this—like you—are something he needs to shake off.

your heart pounds, anger rising up to mask the hurt that’s settling deep in your chest. “of course you’re doing that. of fucking course.” your voice shakes now, but you push forward anyway, unable to stop yourself. “what did you think was going to happen when we started this whole friends-with-benefits thing? you knew what would happen.”

carlos stops then, his shoulders tense, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “yeah, but i—” he exhales sharply, shaking his head. “i can’t.”

your lips part, but no words come out at first. you just stare at him, waiting for something—anything—that would make this feel less like a slap to the face.

but there’s nothing.

“what a joke.” your voice is barely above a whisper now, raw and strained. you shake your head, running a hand through your hair as you force out a dry laugh. “it gets a little bit real, and you run away.”

he doesn’t argue. he doesn’t try to explain.

and that, somehow, hurts the most.

carlos grips his keys tightly, his knuckles turning white, but he still won’t fucking look at you. it makes your blood boil.

you shake your head, letting out a bitter scoff. “you’re unbelievable.”

his jaw tightens, but he stays quiet.

“you know that, right?” you step closer, arms crossing over your chest like you’re trying to hold yourself together. “you act like this—like you don’t care, like none of this means anything to you—but then the second it does, the second it might actually require you to feel something, you fucking run.”

his eyes finally snap up to yours, something flashing behind them. “that’s not fair.”

you let out a sharp laugh. “isn’t it? you’re literally running out of my apartment right now because i admitted that i think about you sometimes. that’s all i fucking said, carlos.”

he exhales harshly, running a hand through his hair, making it messier than it already was. “it’s not just that.”

“then what is it?” you challenge, stepping closer. you don’t know why you’re pushing—maybe because you need him to admit it out loud, maybe because you need him to prove you wrong. “because from where i’m standing, it looks like you’re scared. scared of this—of us. and you don’t know how to deal with it, so instead of facing it like an adult, you just decide to cut me off entirely.”

carlos clenches his jaw, his fingers twitching around his car keys like he’s seconds away from bolting. “i’m not scared.”

you arch a brow, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “oh, no? then what would you call this?” you gesture between the two of you. “because it looks an awful lot like avoidance to me.”

his nostrils flare slightly, his breath unsteady. “i just think this is getting messy.”

you let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “no, it was messy from the start, carlos. you just didn’t care until it started feeling real.”

he doesn’t say anything. he just stands there, his lips pressed into a thin line, like he’s waiting for this to be over so he can leave. and that—that stings more than anything.

you swallow against the lump forming in your throat, suddenly exhausted. “fine. if you wanna go, go. if this is too much for you, then do what you do best—run.”

his expression flickers, just for a second, but then it’s gone. he exhales through his nose, giving you a single, small nod.

and just like that, he turns and walks out the door.

you don’t move. you don’t chase him. you just stand there, staring at the empty space he leaves behind, your heart hammering against your ribs.

it shouldn’t hurt this much. it shouldn’t feel like something just cracked inside you.

but it does.

©⠀piastrisun original work. please don’t translate, claim or repost any of my writing, 25’.

[rangerbarbz]

Mail Call

Here is my first Stan fluff because my mans deserves some love. Let me know what y'all think and thank you so much for all the support. I love you forever babes <3 (I didn't look over this so i apologize if there's any grammatical errors or typos)

“Mail Call”

You worked for the Post Office at Gravity Falls, Oregon, and you absolutely loved it. It was a relatively easy gig that had great benefits. Plus, you got to meet some “interesting” people to say the least. One of those people was the owner of the Mystery Shack himself, Stan Pines. 

You delivered mail to the Mystery Shack every day but Sunday, so you saw him quite a bit. The first time you met him, he happened to be outside with a young boy and girl who you assumed were his grandchildren. You parked your mail truck beside the mail box and reached behind you for a package addressed to 618 Gopher Road. 

Your presence caught the attention of the young girl who began running over to you. The older man was right behind her with an unhappy expression on his face. “Good afternoon! Is this for you, sweetie?” you asked the girl. She was beaming at you with a glimmer in her eyes. 

“Yup! Thank you mail lady!” She snatched the package excitedly from you and started to turn around, but was blocked by the older man who now had his arms crossed. 

“What is that and how did you pay for it?” he asked, scrunching his eyebrows together. You were surprised by the depth and raspiness of his voice. It was quite attractive, if you were being honest. 

“It’s pig shaped cookie cutters for my new baking show I’m filming with Waddles, and I paid for it with your credit card. Okay, bye!” she said all in one breath. Before he could even respond, she was bolting around him to get inside the house. The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Is she your granddaughter?” you asked. He looked at you like he had forgotten you had been standing there. 

“Ah no. Mabel’s actually my grand niece” He chuckled. “Good kid when she’s not spending my money.” 

You laughed and glanced up at the broken sign above you two. “I’ve actually never been here before. You work here?” 

He scoffed. “Work here? I own this place, toots. I’m Mister Mystery himself.” He was grinning from ear to ear. You held your hands up in defense.

“Oh, I didn’t realize I was in the presence of a celebrity,” you replied jokingly. He laughed in return.

“Name’s Stan Pines.” He held out his hand towards you. You smiled and reached out towards him. The size difference between you two was made even more obvious when you wrapped your hand around his to shake it. You introduced yourself to him, but he raised an eyebrow and leaned in closer to you. You realized that he had not heard you and repeated yourself. 

“Huh. Pretty name,” Stan said, releasing his gentle grip. You let your hand fall to your side and began to play with a stray thread from the seaming of your work pants. Was he making you nervous?

“Thank you, Stan. Yours too.” He laughed once again and gazed down at his shoes. You suddenly heard a fire alarm blaring from an open window followed by black smoke.

Stan groaned. “I better go see what the hell that kid’s doing. I, uh. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Hopefully with no more packages that is.”

You giggled. “I cannot guarantee any more packages, but I will 100% be seeing you tomorrow.” 

He winked at you. “I’ll be looking forward to it.” You felt your cheeks grow hot as you gave him a little wave goodbye and entered your mail truck. He was giving you a toothy grin and waving back at you. What you didn’t see was him wiping the sweat from his brow and palms. Very few people made Stan Pines nervous, and you had become one of them. 

The next few weeks, you continued flirting back and forth with each other. It became the highlight of your day when you stopped at his mailbox to already see him standing there. He always asked you how your day was before telling you some outrageous story. Some days it was about a kooky visitor at the Mystery Shack while others it was You enjoyed listening to his gravelly voice and watching his borderline theatrical gestures as he spoke. 

He was undeniably sexy for a man his age. His glasses accentuated his strong jaw, and his thick ashy hair was to die for. You also found his blunt personality and his confidence to be alluring. You only ever saw him in his Mr. Mystery suit, but you weren’t complaining. It helped show off those muscles from his boxing days, and he always looked so sophisticated.

One day when you drove your usual route around Gravity Falls and stopped at the shack, he wasn’t there. You frowned and looked around to see if maybe he was walking up to you. Alas, you couldn’t find him. You put his electric bill in his mailbox and left wondering where he could be. 

You eventually returned to the post office after tapping anxiously on your steering wheel the entire time driving back. You stepped out of your mail truck and walked into the office to begin sorting packages. 

The bell above the door jingled meaning someone had walked in. “Hello, welcome to the Gravity Falls Post- Stan?” You had turned around to see him standing sheepishly in a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. He was missing his fez and you got to see his thick gray hair. In his hands, he was holding an envelope decorated with shiny, brightly-colored stickers.

A slight blush started to spread across his face. “Hey, Doll. Sorry I didn’t see ya earlier today. I was working on this letter.” His eyes wouldn’t meet you. This wasn’t the suave man you usually spoke to. 

You grinned. “Stanley, you know you could’ve just put that in the mailbox, and then I would’ve come to get it, right?” He snorted and shook his head.

“Yes, smartass, I am aware.” He approached the counter that you were standing behind. “I came here because this letter is for you.” You could feel your face heat up as he handed you the sparkly envelope still not looking at you. 

“You… You wrote me a letter? Why?” you asked, running your fingers over the pink letters that spelled your name. Stan then turned his head to you and shoved his hands in his pockets. 

“Look, I, uh,” he paused, “I like you. Our talks make me… happy. And… Oh just read the damn letter! That’s why I wrote it anyway. I’m no good at these things.” He crossed arms in frustration. He scoffed. “If you don’t feel the same, that's fine. I mean who would? Especially-”

“Stan!” you interjected. His eyes met yours. You gave him a reassuring smile. “I like you, too. Like a lot. Between the looks and personality, it was impossible not to fall.” You couldn’t believe you just said that last part out loud. Hopefully you didn’t scare him off. 

Stan gave you a toothy smile and rubbed the back of his neck. His face was beet red. Frankly, it was very satisfying to see him so flustered. “Well, thank you, Doll. You’re a babe, too. Inside and out.” 

You giggled at his strange way of complimenting you. “Thank you, Stan. You’re a sweetheart. I can’t wait to read this letter on company time.” 

Stan laughed. “That’s my girl,” he said as he began walking out the door. He opened it and before he left he said, “You should come over after your shift is done. I know Mabel is dying to hear what you thought of her handiwork there.” 

“I’ll be there.” 

“Good. I’ll see you then, Doll.” He gave you a slight wave and shut the door behind him. You could hear the sound of him yelling “YES!” from the other side. As soon as he peeled off in his Diablo, you carefully opened the envelope to reveal a piece of notebook paper with just as many stickers. It said in the same pink ink your name was written:

Dear Y/N,

I hope you don’t think I’m some dork for writing you a letter instead of telling you face to face how I feel about you. I’m a little rusty in the romance department. I wanted to tell you that I always look forward to our talks. I never thought I would crush on someone who delivers me bills and tax forms. What are the odds?

You make me feel young again. I like how you cut up with me and how you don’t treat me like some old man. I like how kind you are to the kids and how you make my pacemaker work extra hard. I really hope you will come around more often. I also wanted to invite you on a date this Saturday night out of town. I’ll pick you up. You do enough driving. Plus, only tools don’t pick up their date. 

Love, 

Stanley Pines

P.S. I think you’re cute in your work uniform despite what you think. 

[tonysbed]

Die for you (1) | OP81

Oscar Piastri x singer!reader

Summary: It wasn’t oscar’s plan to be the one to fix your reputation and spice up his, yet here he is and..have your eyes always looked so..radiant and beautiful?

warnings: none i believe?

a reminder, I am still to lazy to proofread my story’s

series masterlist | next

-

The first time you meet Oscar Piastri, you’re sitting on the hood of a black Ferrari, licking a cherry lollipop like you’re the villain in a music video.

It’s 2 AM in Monaco, the air still warm from the day’s sun, and you should be anywhere but here—preferably drunk, dancing, or making a different kind of bad decision. Instead, you’re waiting, legs crossed at the ankles, sunglasses still on despite the hour.

A blacked-out SUV pulls up in front of you, sleek and silent. When the door opens, a tall, sharp-suited man steps out first—Oscar’s agent or manager, you assume—then the golden boy himself.

Oscar Piastri looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.

He’s wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans, like he just got dragged out of bed for this meeting. His brown hair is slightly tousled, and there’s a faint crease between his brows, like he’s trying to figure out why exactly he’s here. His eyes flick to you, scanning, assessing.

You tilt your head, letting the lollipop slide out of your mouth with a pop. “So,” you drawl, “this is the guy who’s supposed to fix my reputation?”

Oscar blinks. “Fix?”

His agent clears his throat, stepping between you before you can start scaring his client away. “Yn, Oscar—this is a mutually beneficial arrangement. Oscar, your team wants to shake off your ‘too serious’ image. Yn, you need stability after… well. You know.”

You grin. “After the incident?”

The agent hesitates.

You hum, tossing the lollipop stick onto the pavement and hopping off the hood of the Ferrari. You land closer to Oscar than necessary, just to see if he’ll flinch. He doesn’t, but his shoulders straighten, his whole body going tense like you might try to bite him.

“Come on,” you murmur, letting your perfume do the work. “Say it.”

Oscar crosses his arms, unimpressed. “What incident?”

You smirk. “Oh, baby, if you don’t know, that’s exactly why you’re perfect.”

The agent sighs, already tired. “Yn, your last PR nightmare is still fresh. The photos, the leaked texts, the club fight—”

“That wasn’t a fight,” you interrupt, rolling your eyes. “It was a misunderstanding.”

Oscar’s brow lifts. “You threw a drink in someone’s face.”

You wave a dismissive hand. “Deserved it.”

His lips press together like he’s holding back a comment.

The agent keeps going, undeterred. “You need a reset. Something wholesome. And Oscar, your team thinks you could benefit from a little—” he pauses, choosing his words carefully, “personality.”

You grin. “Let me guess—he’s too boring?”

Oscar sighs. “I’m right here.”

You ignore him. “So what, we do the whole happy couple routine? Hand-holding, secret glances, maybe a paparazzi shot of me wearing his jacket?”

The agent nods. “Exactly. A few months, some strategic social media posts, and both of you come out of this looking better.”

Oscar shakes his head. “This is ridiculous.”

Finally, he’s giving you something—an actual reaction, instead of the blank, slightly annoyed expression he walked in with. You step back, watching him. He doesn’t seem like the type to play along with bullshit. Too logical, too grounded.

But that makes him fun.

That makes him dangerous.

“Tell me something, Piastri,” you say, tapping a manicured nail against your bottom lip. “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”

He frowns. “What?”

“The worst thing. Your biggest scandal.” You gesture vaguely at him. “Because from what I’ve seen, the press makes you sound like a saint.”

Oscar’s jaw tightens, like he doesn’t appreciate the label. “I don’t do scandals.”

You smile, slow and sharp. “Exactly.”

And then you extend your hand. “So, what do you say, Piastri? Wanna be my perfect little boyfriend?”

His fingers twitch. His agent nods. And for a second, you think he might actually say no.

But then, after a long pause—

He shakes your hand.

-

yn

liked by oscarpiastri, zendaya, taylorswift and 3m others

yn 🇲🇨☀️

sabrinacarpenter 😍😍

user shes in monaco??🥹

conangray babe omggg

yn 💛💛

user uhm..what is oscar piastri doing here??

user who?

user he’s an f1 driver, doesn’t fit to her actually. He’s a saint

user oh

spotify looking for new inspo?👀

tatemcrae so hot 🥵

yn all you babe 🤭

user and now she’s acting as if nothing is happening

user no oscar, ruuuuun

-

f1gossip

f1gossip Oscar Piastri has been spotted with a mysterious woman recently 👀 Who do we think is the possible new wag?

user OH?

user How random

user am I crazy or does this look like yn?

user why would he date yn?

user oscar and dating yn GAHAHA

user the man is an introvert, I beg you.

user why are we normalising this again??

user as long as he’s happy

-

This is a short chapter cause it’s the first one. I’ll definitely try to make them longer 🧚

[smartkookiee]

Wounds We Never Show // Ch.7 — jjk.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・ ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab) ❥genre/rating: 18 +explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits ❥chapter warnings/tags: Oh the tension is sooooo thick in this one. classic Jk and Y/N banter. A SMALL LITTLE THING OF SMUT RIGHT AT THE BEGINNING. bothering yoongi (classic), lots of medical stuff in this one, nothing graffic, talking about cancer and diagnosis, mentions of surgery, neuro bros make an appearance (ew), bowling, jk is good at bowling, y/n is also good a bowling, competition ensues, more ji-eun with life advice (love her) JI-EUNS HUSBAND LETS GOOOOOO, Jungkook and Y/N get real competitive in this one. Jungkook does not know how he feels, y/n cannot keep it in her pants, just trust me this is a really funny chapter, NAMJOON AND MELANIE APPEARANCE (love them), tension, tension, tension ❥word-count: 13.2k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter ❥Playlist fic is cross posted to ao3 send an ask or comment on post to be added to the taglist! a/n: Surprise!! I had a burst of creative energy and busted out this chapter in like 12 hours. Enjoy!! .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

“Don’t stop.” You stutter over your words, gripping down on the sheets next to you. Tugging at the fabric in reaction to the pleasure you were receiving. 

Fingers rhythmically pumping in and out of you. Tongue dancing over your clit from side to side. Causing your legs to close around the person below you in reaction to the hints of your orgasm bubbling up. You were hot and completely covered in sweat and desperate to chase that high. 

“Fuck, yes!” You moan. Your hand reached down to wrap into the mess of black hair between your legs. 

You grind your hips into their fingers and mouth, desperate for any touch they grant you. One of their free holding your hips down in response. Their lips detaching from your clit to look up at you finally, you can get a look. 

Only to be met with Jungkooks face looking back up at yours. Eyes sparkling with desire. 

“Baby let me take care of you.” Jungkook said, wiping his mouth.

Then suddenly your eyes shot open. Bolting upright in bed. The light from the sun fills the room and blinding you. You had shifted rather violently, stirring Melanie that was asleep next to you and Ash who was on the other side of you. 

You rub your eyes, your dreamy state still lingering at the front of your mind. You run your fingers through your hair. Your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest. Your breath is heavy. 

Great, now he’s infiltrated your dreams. 

Awesome.

You take a moment and look around Namjoon and Melanie’s room. Still trying to fully wake up now. It must have been early. Namjoon is nowhere in sight.

“Oh no, we did it again.” With a whisper, letting yourself fall back into the bed. Immediately regretting it since a small hangover headache was creeping up on you. 

“Shhh, still sleeping.” Ash moaned, turning over under the cover, stealing some away from Melanie who was barely waking up, mouth hanging open. 

“Shut up.” Melanie groaned, trying to steal the covers back. 

“We kicked Namjoon out again.” You rub your eyes again, looking up at the ceiling. 

“I know.” Melanie yawned, turning over to face you. “He’s used to it at this point.” 

“Hey at least it’s not like when you guys had your shitty old bed and we barely fit on it together.” Ash sat up in the bed. Her hair is a complete mess. 

Melanie and Namjoon used to have a queen and it would barely fit the three of you when you three would crash. At least one of you would easily fall out of the bed in the night, you all were restless sleepers so it was anyone’s guess who would end up falling out of the bed. One morning Melanie ended up falling and hitting her head pretty hard. Taking a very fun trip to the ER with her head split open. 

After that Namjoon decided they needed to get a bigger and better bed so that would not happen again. 

You giggle to yourself while rubbing the side of your head, “Yeah how nice of Namjoon to get this big bed just for us.” 

That gets some small laughs from Melanie and Ash. Right at that moment the door cracked open, Namjoons face peering into the room. Looking between the three of you. Melanie immediately sitting up in the bed. 

“Good morning.” Namjoon lightly stepped into the room with an amused smile. 

“Guys look how cute my husband is.” Melanie tilts her head to the side, reaching a hand for Namjoon to take her hand. 

“So weird hearing you say husband now.” Ash ran her hands through her hair, fingers trying to comb through tangles. 

“Imagine how I feel.” Namjoon smiles, coming over to the side Melanie is on. Taking her hand and kissing the back of it. 

“You hate it?” Melanie pouted. 

“Yeah, I hate it, that’s why I married you.” Namjoon rolled his eyes. Leaning down giving Melanie a quick kiss. 

“Get a room.” You tease, throwing your hands over your eyes like a small child. 

“You’re in my room!” Namjoon voiced with some fake annoyance in his tone, “I was going to go get breakfast. So put in your orders now.”

“You know my order.” Melanie grinned, She hadn’t looked at either you or Ash since Namjoon entered the room. 

“What about thing 1 and thing 2 over there?” Namjoon raised an eyebrow to the both of you and Ash. 

“Eggs Benedict.” You raise a arm up, finger pointing to the sky. 

“French toast.” Ash yawns, she looked like she was seconds away from falling back asleep while sitting up. You laugh, poking her cheek. 

“I’m on it.” Namjoon kisses Melanie one more time before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. 

“Guys,” Melanie hums, “I’m married.” 

“You're just now realizing that?” You smile, she turns around to look at the both of you. 

“Nah but it’s fun to say. I’m married.” She coos, laying back down next to you. Totally starstruck. It was sweet, you loved seeing her so happy. 

“I’m so tired.” Ash whines next to the both of you, still looking like she could pass out any second. 

“You should sleep, or get some coffee.” You rub her arm, encouraging her to do something. 

This immediately perked Melanie up from her spot, springing to her feet. “Oh we have a new machine! It’s great! Joonie’s parents got it for us.” 

She rounded around to the other side of the bed pulling Ash to her feet. You slowly followed them out of the room. Down to the kitchen. Yawns falling from you the entire way, you also needed some coffee this morning. Ash leaned her head on you, entering the kitchen as Melanie seemed to have all the energy in the world suddenly. 

“What woke you  up so suddenly this morning? It scared me awake.” Ash asked, the both of you taking seats at the kitchen table as you waited. 

The contents of the dream coming back to the front of your mind like a truck hitting a wall. “Oh… just a nightmare. Freaked me out I guess.” 

Melanie shuffled around for a moment while you watched her gather mugs and start the new coffee maker. “You and Jungkook got along well last night.” 

There he was again. 

“I guess.” You lay your head on the table. “Really only for you guys.” 

“Yeah but you made it through the day without a fight. Just mild annoyances. Seems like progress.” Melanie continued, you weren’t sure what she was getting at here. 

“Spit it out Mel.” 

Melanie pouts, she likes to dance around these kinds of things. “You seem friendlier since we left. Just last week you still wanted to kill him.” 

You think on it for a moment, “I don’t know, maybe we are growing up.” 

“Yeah okay.” She scoffs, because it was a ridiculous thought. “I think it’s great. I’ve always thought you two could be really good friends. You know, if you could get past your ego’s first.”

“Hey! Friend is a stretch. Let’s not jump too far ahead of ourselves.” 

“I thought for sure he was dead when he sat on you.” Ash mumbled next to you, still hardly awake. 

“He was close. I don’t know, maybe I just don’t have the energy for it anymore.” You shrug, referring to battling it out with Jungkook. Omitting some key information about your recent activities. 

“Well whatever it is, keep going. It’s working.” Melanie brings a cup and sets it in front of Ash first. “Means I don’t have to play parent for you two anymore.” 

Melanie, not aware what exactly what she was encouraging. 

You thought for a moment if you should tell them… but something about admitting it felt… embarrassing. You and Jungkook sleeping together wasn’t embarrassing as an idea but something felt weird about admitting it. Telling them mabe makes it real? Instead of it being something you can pretend didn’t happen. If they know then it becomes actualized. Which you weren’t sure if you were ready for the teasing or the questions that will come along with it. 

After too long Namjoon returned back with the food. You all sat and chatted for a while but you left once you finished. Your day continues uneventfully. You filed your dream away into a deep part of your mind. Honestly, you did seriously need to see someone with how much space Jungkook was taking up in your brain these days. It was exhausting and annoying, because before you could just pretend he didn’t really exist unless you absolutely had to be in his presence. 

Now, he was creeping into your mind randomly. Mostly because you have a stupid and horny mind but still. Even beyond that it was getting annoying, so when you went back to work on Monday you just went about your business and kept your mind as busy as possible. 

Today you were a scribe for Dr. Kim. Which meant you walked around and documented charts as he did consultations and follow ups with patients. You had been wanting to do this for some time but he wanted you to get comfortable first. You felt like you were fitting in well up here, all the other girls were great and Vic has been your friend forever so you were getting really comfortable. All the patients knew you pretty well now, so today was the day. 

Dr. Kim kept you on your toes, though. He moved quickly from room to room, and you felt like you were constantly catching up. He was thorough, meticulous, and demanded precision, which made this a challenging but rewarding role.

“Keeping up Y/N?” Dr. Kim looks back at you as he leads his band of interns and Yoongi, behind him. 

“Doing alright sir.” You nod, opening up your next chart. Luckily Ji-eun was up next, hers should be pretty straight forward. Dr. Kim ordered a new set of scans because he wanted an updated look at her progress before surgery in two weeks. 

You had run around most of the day but would go back and forth between talking to patients and viewing scans in an observation room, it had screens around the room so you could pull up scans from a patient's chart. Which you had taken the liberty of pulling up and having ready. Dr. kim walked between them and would ask questions. 

“Alright patient nine zero one six one three. Dr. Duboid, give us the run down.” Dr. Kim gestured to one of the interns who stepped out from the rest. Clearing his throat. 

Alright, patient nine-zero-one-six-one-three. Dr. Dubois, give us the rundown.” Dr. Kim commanded.

Dr. Dubois, stepping forward, cleared his throat. “Fifty-nine-year-old female with stage four hepatocellular carcinoma. She is currently being evaluated for potential downstaging to stage three following her upcoming surgical intervention to remove a tumor in the left leg, initially suspected to be metastatic but confirmed via biopsy to be an independent neoplasm.”

Dr. Kim cut in, pointing to another intern. “Very good. Dr. Ruiz, continue.”

Dr. Ruiz adjusted her glasses and spoke. “Chemotherapy was discontinued last week and will remain on hold until two weeks post-surgery. A follow-up consultation is scheduled to determine the reintroduction of systemic therapy based on post-operative recovery and further imaging.”

Yoongi, ever prepared, chimed in with a thoughtful nod. “A new set of contrast-enhanced CT scans were ordered over the weekend for both the leg and liver. As we can observe, the leg tumor has remained stable in size, indicating that surgical excision is a viable next step.”

Dr. Kim scanned the room. “What concerns should we keep in mind? Dr. Ito?”

Dr. Ito stepped forward, pointing at the monitor. “The tumor in the leg appears to be intricately involved with several neurovascular structures. Should we consult orthopedic and neurosurgery for intraoperative support?”

“Excellent observation.” Dr. Kim nodded. “Dr. White from orthopedic oncology will be assisting to ensure nerve preservation and potential reattachment.” He turned to you. “Y/N, make a note: I want to push the surgery back two more weeks to allow for optimal systemic clearance following her last chemotherapy infusion.”

You nod and take a note in her chart. “Got it.” You go ahead and switch the scans from the one of the leg to the one of the liver. Everyone stares at it for a moment before Dr. Kim comes over to the computer where you have the newest scans pulled up. 

“Let’s pull up her last scans… I need to make sure I’m seeing this right.” Dr. Kim’s voice changed in tone slightly. You go ahead and pull up her last scans from several weeks ago and put them side by side with the new ones. It was glaringly obvious what he was seeing now that they were side by side.

“Dr. Min, what are we seeing here?” Dr. Kim gestures for Yoongi to continue on. He leaned in close to the computer where the scans were pulled up and started fiercely making some notes. 

Yoongi leaned in, analyzing the comparative scans. “Between the previous and current scans, the primary hepatic lesion has demonstrated interval progression. Now what does this mean?” Yoongi looks to the Interns. Which meant the main tumor on her liver has grown, it was slight. You might not have even seen it if the images weren’t side by side but it definitely had.

One of the interns raised a hand. “Resistance to the prior chemotherapy regimen?”

“Possible and likely in this case.” Yoongi acknowledged. “Other thoughts?”

“It’s an aggressive cancer, as soon as the chemotherapy discontinued it started to grow. So the chemotherapy wasn’t preventing the primary hepatic lesion from growing anymore.” 

“Good, so how should we proceed?” Yoongi nodded. 

“This might be the more pressing issue. Should we consider postponing the surgery?” one of the interns asked hesitantly, glancing between the scans and Dr. Kim.

Dr. Kim shook his head firmly. “No,” he said with certainty. “We proceed with the surgery as planned. The primary focus remains on addressing the current issue, but we will continue to closely monitor the tumor's progression. We also need to have an in-depth discussion with the patient about potential treatment options and gather more imaging to determine if surgical resection is viable.”

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but inwardly, the situation weighed heavily on you. This wasn’t the news anyone wanted to hear.

“Order an MRI,” Dr. Kim continued, his voice steady but concerned. “I want detailed imaging from every possible angle. I need to have a complete picture so we can provide her with all available options moving forward.”

You kept your thoughts to yourself and figured you could ask later. Putting in the order for the MRI and you were moving on. After some more discussion you all were back on the floor and making your way from room to room again following up with more patients. Ending with Ji-eun.

Scanning the room, you see a gentlemen sitting next to her. Roughly about the same age. You can probably assume her husband. He was adorable and had a salt a pepper look to his hair. 

“Good morning Ji-eun!” Dr. Kim sang as he entered the room. You and the interns following close behind. “I hope you don’t mind. I have the kids with me today.” 

Ji-eun smiled beaming at everyone. You got to look next to her and see an older gentleman, probably around the same age who you can only assume is her husband with her. You hadn't gotten to met him yet. “Not at all. Any chance they get to learn the better.” 

Jin tapped his head against the side of his head, “I agree. We have a few things we need to go over. Starting with that leg of yours.” Jin holds his hand out to you for the tablet, you already had the scans of her leg pulled up and pass him the tablet. “We should have no issues going ahead with the surgery to remove the tumor in your leg. Has Dr. White come and spoke to you about what he’ll be assisting me with in surgery?” 

“Yes he came by earlier and gave us the details. Sounds complicated but I get the idea.” 

The gentleman next to her cleared his throat, “We did have some concerns about nerve damage that we didn’t get to ask about.”

“Well with any surgery there is risk. In this case though Dr. White didn’t see any reason you shouldn’t be able to still have full mobility of your leg following the operation. I agree with him as well.” Dr. Kim’s voice as ever light and enthusiastic as always. “I did push it back two more week though. I want to make sure that we don’t run into any complications following your last infusion.” 

“I won’t complain. Every time I have surgery this guy falls into a full blown panic.” She teases the man next to her. He has a adoring smile on his face but rolls his eyes. 

“Rightfully so I think.” He pipes back up. 

“I have a little more to share before I’ll get out of your hair. Yoongi present.” Dr. Kim steps off to the side, passing the tablet to Yoongi. 

Yoongi, switching to her liver scans. “We also learned from your most recent scans that the largest tumor on your liver has grown.” He shows her the sans so she can see. “It’s not significant and it won’t delay your surgery but once we conclude with your operation we should talk the possibility of changing medication or seeing about another operation to resect some of the tumor.” 

“I’m not getting better essentially.” Ji-euns face stayed the same but her tone suggested slight disappointment. 

“Not at all. It’s an aggressive cancer and we have seen growth before. We just need to take another approach. We are going to closely monitor it before your surgery to make sure it doesn’t grow anymore.” Yoongi assured, trying to put on a neutral but kind face.

“Your sweet to assure me but I have been fighting this a long time. I try no to get my hopes up.” Ji-eun stated. 

“What do we need to do?” Ji-eun's husband butted in. 

“We are just going to continue the pain management for now. It’s important we get the tumor out of your leg. We’ve also ordered for you to be taken down for another MRI today so that we can get a much more detailed scan of your liver so we can better see what’s going on.” Yoongi continues, passing the tablet back to you. 

“I will look at the new MRI scans and come up with a new plan. I know we were just starting something new and I know this is not the news we wanted but I’m far from giving up hope.” Dr. Kim interjected. You couldn’t help but notice Ji-eun was putting on a brave smile, bright like always. Except a small sadness behind the eyes. “The tumor growing could mean anything. It could be from the regime change or from the the discontinuation of treatment.” 

“I know. We’ve been through it a lot of times before.” She sighs and her eyes are darting from side to side like she is lost in thought. “Oh before I forget I have something for you two.” She points for her husband to grab her the scarves she had been working on. 

“Ji-eun you know I can’t accept bribes.” Dr. kim jokes and everyone laughs a little. 

“Oh please.” She waves him off as she hands the scarves made for both him, and looks like she busted out one for Yoongi pretty quickly since you saw her on Friday. “I made these because I wanted to gives my thanks to you two somehow.” 

Jin taking his multicolored one and immediately wrapping it around himself, “Oh it’s lovely! I’m wearing this everyday once it gets colder. Yoongi put yours on.” 

Yoongi was just feeling his in his hands. “Oh I’ll wear it home.” 

“Awe come on. we need to see if it looks nice.” You chime in with a grin. Yoongi was unamused. Reluctantly wrapping it around himself, throwing one of the sides over his shoulder. 

“Oh they’re perfect.” Ji-eun clapped her hands together.

“Alright. Well, we’ll get those new scans. I’ll be back to see you soon once we have the results.” Dr. Kim’s voice was calm but firm, his nod signaling the team to follow. The interns shuffled out and Yoongi trailed behind, his hands stuffed in his pockets, his expression unreadable as always. Ji-eun was the last patient on their rounds, and as the room emptied, you lingered, feeling the weight of the moment settle in the air. 

You adjusted the tablet under your arm, stepping closer to the bed. Ji-eun’s husband  sat in the chair beside her, his hands clasped tightly, his face a mix of concern and quiet strength. Ji-eun herself was propped up on the pillows, her usual spark dimmed just a fraction, though she still managed a small smile when your eyes met.

“Do you guys have any questions or anything? I know that was a lot of news all at once.” Your voice was soft, careful not to break the fragile calm in the room. You moved to the side of the bed looking to her husband, “I’m Y/N, by the way. I’ve been on Ji-eun’s case since she got here.” 

You extended your hand to him,and he took it with a firm grip. “Youngjin,” He said, his voice warm but tired. “Ji-eun hasn’t stopped talking about the wonderful girl who takes care of her. I’m assuming that’s you.” He gave your hand a solid shake before releasing it, his smile genuine but fleeting.

You chuckled, glancing at Ji-eun. “Bragging about me, huh?” 

Ji-eun’s laugh was light, though it carried a hint of weariness. “Ah, I can’t help it. You’re the most interesting one here.” She leaned back against the pillows, her eyes twinkling despite the heaviness of the conversation. “This is the one with the boy problems.” She added in a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear.

You groaned, playfully swatting her leg. “I don’t have boy problems, and that’s not something everyone needs to know.” 

Youngjin chuckled, his deep voice filling the room. “If it helps, she texts me every little piece of gossip she hears. She’s got dirt on everyone on this floor.”

“I sit around and walk up and down the halls all day—what else am I supposed to do?” Ji-eun protested, though her grin betrayed her. She leaned her head back, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the blanket. “Which reminds me… you haven’t mentioned your pain-in-the-butt friend recently.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “I’ll answer your questions if you answer mine.” 

Ji-eun narrowed her eyes, considering your offer, then nodded. “You drive a hard bargain.” She sighed, sitting up straighter. She glanced at Youngjin, then back at you, her expression softening. “What’s there to say? One of my tumors is growing again. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”

Your smile faded, replaced by a look of quiet empathy. “It’s like Dr. Kim said… it could just be a fluke.”

“Or it could be getting worse.” Ji-eun sang softly, though the disappointment in her tone was unmistakable. 

“We don’t know yet.” You countered, mimicking her sing-song tone. “You’re getting the MRI this afternoon, and then we’ll know more. Dr. Kim didn’t seem worried, so I’m not worried.”

Ji-eun sighed, her fingers now fiddling with the edge of her hospital gown. “I guess. I’ve had that kid treating me for as long as I’ve been diagnosed—”

“So you know he’d be straight with you.” You reassured her, your voice steady. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Youngjin nodded, his gaze shifting between you and Ji-eun. “She’s good.” he said, his tone approving. 

Ji-eun let out a long breath, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I have an aggressive cancer. That’s not new. I think I’m just getting annoyed with hearing it’s staying the same. It’s been the same for years. I’m just living with it at this point. I just… hoped, maybe, we would have seen improvement by now.”

Your heart ached for her. You couldn’t fully understand, but you could feel the weight of her words. “Dr. Kim is going to look at the new scans.” You said gently. “He’s probably coming up with ten more plans in his head as we speak. He’s not giving up, he’s not even close. We have to get you back on your feet without that leg monster first. Then we’ll go from there. He’s ready to fight if you are.”

Ji-eun’s lips curved into a small smile, though her eyes remained distant. “I’ve got plenty of fight left, kid. Don’t you worry.” She reached out, patting your arm. “You’ve got the poor-dying-person sympathy face. Enough of that, I’m sick, but I’m not dying. Now… My turn!”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “No, no, no. I’ve got a few more questions.”

Ji-eun groaned, rolling her eyes. “You and I both know that stuff is so boring.”

“That stuff is what helps us treat you.” You countered, your tone light but firm.

Youngjin stood, stretching his legs. “Well, this is going to go on for a while. I’m going to go get us some food while you dole out your interrogation. Don’t go too hard on her.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to Ji-eun’s forehead.

“I won’t.” You promised.

“Oh, I was talking to my wife.” He teased, his laughter echoing as he made his way out of the room. “Play nice.”

“Never,” Ji-eun shot back, her grin widening as she watched him go. She turned back to you, her expression softening. 

“Your husband is lovely.” You said, settling into the chair Youngjin had vacated.

“I know.” Ji-eun replied, her voice warm. She tilted her head, studying you. “Now, give me updates while you examine me or something.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I actually have other work I should be doing.”

“That’s why you should ‘examine’ me.” She said, her tone mischievous.

“Don’t you have your own kids you can bug about this?” You teased, knowing her sons were a constant source of both pride and exasperation for her.

“Their stuff isn’t nearly as fun as yours.” She said, her eyes sparkling. “Come on, I’m sick and dying.”

“You just said you weren’t dying, remember?” You said firmly, though your voice was gentle.

Ji-eun let out an exaggerated cough, clutching her chest. “I’m practically withering away! Please it’s my dying wish.”

“Uh-huh, that’s a horrible last wish.” You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t really have anything new for you. That… stupid guy who’s been bothering me has left me alone… mostly.”

“Mostly?” Ji-eun raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued.

“We had to be around each other for a friend thing, and I don’t know… he was being… nice? Civil? It was… odd.”

“Good odd?” Ji-eun pressed.

“More like strange. I’m so used to fighting all the time, it was… weird.”

Ji-eun leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “I feel like I’ve asked before. Is there any history there?”

“No,” You said quickly, perhaps a little too quickly. “No, we just exist in the same spaces.”

“Hmm,” Ji-eun hummed, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Well, maybe he’s changed. Maybe something happened, and he’s turning over a new leaf.”

“Seems out of character. Maybe.” You muttered, though the thought lingered. That didn’t help your currently predicament where he was taking up a small little piece of your brain you couldn’t control. 

“Well, I’m going to need more updates on this. It’s getting juicy. Maybe he’s actually liked you this whole time, but you were sending the wrong signals.”

You shake your head with and exasperated scoff, “Considering he once told me I looked like a run-over raccoon, I doubt it.”

Ji-eun gasped. “Never let anyone talk to you like that. Especially some boy.”

“If I’m being totally fair, I told him he looked like a cat vomited on him… and that he smelled like it too.” A result of one of the worst fights the two of you ever had. You’ve both definitely pushed your insults much further but definitely not things you should say at work. 

Ji-eun let’s out a small laugh. “It must be like watching a train wreck when you two fight.”

“Something like that.” You exhaled, glancing at the clock. “I do have to get back to my other tasks, but is there anything else I can do? Anything else you want to know?” You hesitated, feeling like maybe you could offer something more, even if you weren’t sure what that was.

Ji-eun’s expression softened, her laughter fading into a quiet smile. “I’m alright, kid. I’m not devastated or going to spiral into a depressive episode. It’s just… maybe you don’t get it unless you have cancer, but I’ve learned to live with the disappointment that things can always get worse. A tumor can grow, another tumor can materialize. It’s frustrating, sure, because it means we have to try something new. I get to experience a whole new set of side effects. But I do it… I have to.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and raw. You pulled the chair closer. “I guess I understand… well, as much as I can. You know, you’re in charge, though. We’ll do whatever you want… it’s your life.”

Ji-eun’s face shifted, her gaze dropping to her hands. “It’s not. It’s never been just me… it’s my husband and my kids too. I have so many things I have yet to see them do. Get married, have kids of their own, live fulfilling lives. They haven’t really gotten to fully live because they all sit and dote on me…” Her voice wavered, the frustration and sadness intertwining.

“Sounds like they don’t mind, the way you talk about them.” You said gently.

“They don’t… but I don’t want them to have too forever. My husband has come to see my side of it more and more, but my boys are still the more… what’s the best word for it… aggressive when it comes to fixing any new problems I accrue as a result of this stupid thing. Dr. Kim has been on the receiving end of their insistent questioning more than once.” She picked at her fingers, a self-soothing gesture you’d come to recognize.

“Will you tell them the tumor has grown?” You asked, your voice soft.

Ji-eun hesitated, then shook her head. “Mmm, maybe not this time. Dr. Min said it wasn’t substantial, right?”

“No.” You said quickly, turning the tablet back on to pull up her scans. “Here, this is your last scan and your current one. It’s minor, but it’s important to monitor. Like Dr. Kim said, he just doesn’t know yet why it happened. We’ll keep a close eye, though.” You pointed to the screen, showing her the small but noticeable growth.

She nodded, her eyes scanning the images. “Then no reason to worry them… unless it means the chemo isn’t working anymore.”

You shook your head, closing the tablet and resting it on your lap. “Let’s just get you past this surgery first. Then Dr. Kim will cross that bridge.”

Ji-eun’s smile returned, though it was tinged with exhaustion. “Look who’s the hopeful one today. I’d almost think you care about me.”

You stood, laughing softly. “I care about everyone up here. I just like you a little more. I need to get back to work now.”

“Alright, fine.” Ji-eun called after you as you headed toward the door. “Maybe I need to have you give my kids the news in the future. Make them feel like it’s not so serious.”

You paused, turning back to her. “I think we’d be on the same page. If it were my mom, I’d probably fight as hard as they do to find answers.”

Ji-eun’s smile softened, and for a moment, the room felt lighter. You made your way back to the nurses’ station, where Yoongi was seated, frantically typing into a chart. His brow was furrowed in concentration, but he glanced up as you approached. He was still wearing the scarf.

“Do me a favor.” You said, rolling your chair closer to his.

“No.” Yoongi groaned, not looking up.

“Aww, come on.” You pouted, tapping his shoulder incessantly.

Yoongi sighed, finally turning to you. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You don’t need any scans.”

“This isn’t about that!” You huffed. “This is serious.”

“Oh… what’s up?” He asked, his tone shifting to one of concern.

“Will you round back around to Ji-eun’s room later? I think they still have some more questions but just need some time with the new updates.”

Yoongi nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Sure, yeah. I can round back around in a few hours after her MRI. See if they have anything else they’d like to know.”

“Thank you.” You said, rolling back to your side of the desk.

Yoongi tapped his chin, studying you. “You’re getting pretty attached to her, huh?”

You looked up, meeting his gaze. “I mean, I really like her, if that’s what you mean.”

“I mean it seems like you’re getting pretty emotionally invested… in her case. You seem to take a little extra care in this situation. Do you know her or something?”

“Not at all.” You said, shaking your head. “She was the first person I helped when I got up here, so she confides in me often. She’s sweet and makes the day easier.

Yoongi’s expression softened, though his tone carried a note of caution. “Just be careful… getting attached up here… it’s an easy way to get hurt.”

“Spoken from experience?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Yoongi’s smile was sad, his gaze distant. “You could say that. We have a hard enough job as it is. We watch patients beat impossible odds and lose to simple complications… it can be taxing when you get so close to them, and they lose.”

“I hear you.” You said quietly. “I’ll be careful.”

Yoongi nodded, his attention returning to the chart in front of him. You sat back in your chair, the weight of his words settling over you. It wasn’t something you hadn’t heard before; Vic had warned you of the same thing when you first started working on this floor. Emotional attachment isn’t a bad thing when it comes to patient care, it’s required, but boundaries with your personal feelings is what is important. 

Maybe you were getting a bit attached to Ji-eun but you knew how to pull back so that you can do your job the best way you can. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

“Alright let’s go home.” Jungkook with a wave of his hand dismissed everyone. Paralegals and other associates packing up their things to finally leave for the day. 

It’s now the end of the week and he figured he might as well dismiss everyone for the weekend, there wasn’t going to be any progress until Monday anyways. No reason to keep everyone around longer than necessary. 

The trial had taken a slight annoying turn. The defense had brought to light some evidence about his clients that was information that had chosen to omit from his teams knowledge or research. So it’s caused a bit of a standstill on their side of the case. Which means they had been spending the entire week coming up with a strategy to combat this. But They were in recess until next week due to this presentation of evidence so they had some time but they weren’t going to learn anything new over the weekend and they wouldn’t be able to converse with the clients until Monday. So calling it a night was best. 

Jungkook may be working through the weekend but there is no reason to drag everyone down with him. 

“Tough situation.” Jimin came up and gave a pat on Jungkook’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, doesn’t begin to describe it. More like throws a wrench into our whole case.” Jungkook gathering some papers, filing them back together nicely so he can get them back into his bag. Ultimately to take them out at home and make them over again. 

“Need me to come over? We can talk it through, look over everything again?” Jimin offered with a sympathetic smile, “Or take you out for a drink and we can bitch and moan. Haven’t done that in a while. I bet we can rope Taehyung in.” 

Jungkook thought about it, he could use some sort of release of frustration but he probably needed to keep his head clear. He’d gotten back on his game but this week proved to throw a punch left and right. “As much as I would like it. I think I just need to go home and drown in my own self pity.” 

“Awe come on. Better to spiral with a friend or two.” Jimin bounced on his heals with anticipation. “Maybe not a drink maybe, how about we get some food? You haven’t eaten today right? Maybe bowling?” 

Jungkook could tell what Jimin was doing, clearing the noise. “You suck at bowling.” 

“And?” He shrugs. “Come on, we’ll get some laughs out of it. Taehyung’s even worse than me. It’ll be fun.” 

Jungkook smiled at the thought. Taehyung truly was terrible at bowling. “Alright, I can spend the evening making you both look like huge losers.” 

“There we go. That’s the spirit.” Jimin left the meeting room, assuredly to go gather his things 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

“God, please. Just allow me one strike. You’ve granted Jungkook so many. Please allow me one.” Taehyung was speaking to the bowling ball in his hand. Jungkook and Jimin just watching him as he pleads to break his total score of 32. 

They are now well into their second game. Taehyung sorely lost the first one and is somehow losing even worse the second time around. How? It was unimaginable but highly entertaining for Jimin and Jungkook. After work Jungkook went home and changed into something far more casual. A white shirt and some wide leg dark jeans. Eventually meeting Jimin who, with little effort, did manage to get Taehyung to join them. Now some food and a few drinks later here they were. Much more relaxed than how he had started the evening. 

Jimin was really good at that, making the end of the day better than the start. Even if the start sucked. 

“Just bowl!” Jimin complained as Taehyung was continuing to sing praises to the bowling ball. 

With that Taehyung sends the purple ball down the alley, and with a quick curve he sinks it into the gutter. Dropping to his knees in dramatic defeat. “The universe hates me.” 

He gives a small pout looking in Jungkook’s direction. Jungkook shook his head, “I have shown you how to throw a ball countless times! I’m not helping you anymore! My talents are wasted on you.” 

“So you also hate me.” Taehyung drops his head, but Jimin walks over and pulls him up to his feet by the collar of his shirt.

“My turn you big baby.” Jimin says, pushing Taehyung back to the table with Jungkook. Defeat written all over his face, taking a chair next to Jungkook. 

“You’ll get 'em next time tiger.” Jungkook shakes Taehyung’s shoulder with encouragement. 

“Perhaps.” Taehyung sighed, heavy and exaggerated. “Oh to have such effortless talent.” 

“What can I say? Some of us are just born awesome.” Jungkook leans back into his seat, arms behind his head all nonchalant. He’s had a beer or two so he was feeling pretty good. The bowling helped. 

“Wow, you could try to be humble.” Taehyung rolled his eyes. Sitting up in his seat, “Jimin said it was a tough week?” 

“Yeah this case took an unexpected turn so I got to spend the weekend fixing it… or something. Then other stuff, not an awesome week for me.” Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, tousling it a bit from its position. It had grown out a little, it tickled the back of his neck. 

“Hmm, sucks. Need a mock trial with me and Namjoon again? … Maybe another kind of stress relief.” Taehyung’s tone pointed. Jungkook knew exactly what he was referring to. He spent the entire week sending not so subtle texts that Jungkook should reach out to you. Like that would ever happen, Jungkook didn’t even have your number.

 It wasn’t unusual of Taehyung to pry into Jungkook’s feelings or into his life. It was actually annoyingly consistent. He’d been this way forever, always with the best of intentions. He wanted Jungkook to be happy and not so stuck in work or school or whatever. Jungkook was sometimes so one track minded and Taehyung, with Jimin’s help occasionally, did a pretty good job of getting him to chill out. Didn’t mean he didn’t also try to meddle into Jungkook’s love life… which in this case was just his intimate life. 

So this was pretty typical of Taehyung.

“Not this again.” Jungkook groaned, taking a fry and eating it. “When will you let this go?” 

“Give me a few more weeks? Maybe never.” Taehyung smirked, “Come on. You guys have heat! Why deny it?” 

“Deny what?” Jimin coming back and sitting with the two of them. 

Jungkook looks between them, “Nothing.” 

“Jungkook’s a scaredy cat.” Taehyung quipped, “Denying himself simple pleasures.” 

Taehyung may have been hitting the nail on the head, as much and Jungkook wanted to deny it. Your encounter this last weekend proved that Taehyung was right, you were just a nice person. It’s not like Jungkook didn’t know it. You’ve known each other a long time, but having it in his face kicked up some old memories. Kicking up some old thoughts and he didn’t care to explore. Maybe he was in denial. 

“Oh look, it’s my turn.” Jungkook stood grabbing his ball to bowl. 

“You can’t hide from me!” Taehyung mockingly calls to him as he goes up to the lane. 

“Care to explain?” Jimin leans in Taehyung’s direction. Taehyung waving him off. 

“His business to share, not mine. Trust me it’s good though.” Taehyung stood from his seat, wanting to get another drink but also possibly find a new ball. In the hopes that possibly his sixth, no seventh choice in bowling will bring him victory. 

As he scourers the lanes for his option. He passes by a group who seems to be coming into the bowling alley. With a straggler following behind, bowling shoes in hand. Taehyung makes a passing glance at the group. Just a few girls, but it wasn’t any of them that caught his attention. It was the last one. 

“Ah, wait up.” You called after them, you were balancing your phone  and wallet and shoes in your hands. While the other girls trailed ahead. 

“Y/N?” Taehyung calls your name, making you spin on your heel. A confused look on your face, wondering who could possibly be calling your name.

Your expression softened at the sight of Taehyung. “Hey, what are you doing here?” You look at the other girls but figure you can track them down. Walking over to him to give him a hug. 

He reciprocated in kind, pausing for a moment.“Just with some friends. Who are you with?” 

“Oh,” You wave your hand in the direction they went. “girls from work. Some last second plans.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Well we had kind of a long and tough day and wanted to blow off some steam. I lost the vote so here we are.” You explain, you didn’t hate bowling, you just would have preferred other activities to be honest. 

“You don’t say.” Taehyung smiles, unbeknownst to you as to why. “Well hey. Do you happen to have any bowling expertise? I could use some help picking out a ball.” 

He points to the racks of the bowling balls, and you nod. “I do, as a matter of fact.” 

You follow Taehyung along for a minute, helping him pick out a proper bowling ball. Finding one for yourself as well. You weren’t lying when you said you knew a thing about bowling. Then going up the lanes to see where your coworkers ended up landing. Which was right next to Taehyung’s lane. Taehyung couldn’t believe the odds. You made some chit chat as you walked back. Not before you immediately spotted the black mop of hair. Followed by the visual of his tattooed arm. He was faced away from the two of you. 

Of course Tae wouldn’t tell you that Jungkook was here.

Before you can get a word in. “Look who I ran into.” Taehyung’s voice jumps an octave, with joy and mischief.

Jimin looks up to see you with sudden surprise on his face, Jungkook turns in his seat to see you. He blinked, looking between you and Taehyung. What had he summoned you or something? Tae was only gone for a minute. Jungkook was obviously thrown and your expression seemed to match that of yours, you weren’t prepared for this encounter either.  

“Hi Jimin.” You give him a polite wave, glancing at Jungkook. “Jungkook.” 

Jimin waves to you. Worried that he was going to witness another explosive exchange. Surprised when Jungkook just sort of acknowledges you with a head nod. 

“Y/N.” He responds. 

“Just our luck running into Y/N.” Taehyung hugged your shoulder then letting you go and going to put his ball in the lane.

“He didn’t tell me you were here.” You sigh. 

“Yeah, I have a feeling that was on purpose.” Jungkook followed Taehyung with his eyes, throwing daggers at him. 

“Y/N!” One of the girls from your groups calls out to you. You glance over to them. You all managed to be placed right next to Jungkook’s lane. So it looks like this will be interesting. 

These were coworkers you didn’t hang with often. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Earlier that evening. 

Will some tension and tiredness you pulled your scrubs off your body. Discarding them into a bin that was made for scrubs that had fluids on them. You hadn’t managed to keep yourself clean right until the end when your last ER patient had thrown up you on you.. 

You got pulled down to the ER today because of a mass casualty incident. They needed all hands on deck and so that meant that you got pulled down from oncology. It was a bus crash and luckily there were no casualties but a lot of injuries. It took most of the day to get through everyone and get them treated and sent where they needed to be. It had been sometime since you had been in the ER working so the pace threw you off but you caught up quickly. 

One of the other girls who worked down here, really the only one you knew was clocking out with you. Layla, She was changing with you, the two of you had been running side by side all day. Keeping each other held up in the chaos. 

“I want to go back upstairs.” You moan putting back on your regular clothes. Layla laughed under her breath nodding. 

“Lost your stamina from being in a slow paced environment.” She teased but she was right. You hadn’t been running around on alert every second for weeks now.

“I suppose so. I need to relax or something after all that. I’m all anxious and tense now.” You try to shake out your arms almost like you can shake the anxiety away. 

“How about we go get a drink or do something?” Layla offers, you two had hung out once or twice before but it’s been quite some time. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Right as she was suggesting it though some of the other girls in the locker room overheard the offer. You didn’t know their names. They ended up inviting themselves along for the night. It was an opportunity to get to know these girls even though you really only cared to hang out with Layla. You still wanted to be nice. 

You step to the side. 

“Hey so this lane only allows five players.” One of the girls, who you’d come to learn from, was named Kenna. 

“Oh well there are only four of us. What’s the problem?” You looked between them, an apologetic look plastered on Layla’s face. The other girl, Jea, cleared her throat. 

“I sort of invited some guys from Neuro to join us?” She winced, not seeming that apologetic about her choice. 

Oh god, you really hated all of the guys in Neuro. 

“You can join our lane Y/N.” Taehyung who was not so subtly listening into your conversation, interjected. 

You look back at him and shake your head. “Oh no I couldn’t impose.” 

“Oh come on.” Taehyung steps over to the little circle the four of you made, “Hi ladies. I’m Tae.” 

With his usual easy charm, he offered his hand, shaking around the group. The introductions were brief but polite, and it didn’t take long for your friends to pick up on the dynamics at play. The unspoken understanding that you and Taehyung were just friends was clear as day. Other observations, however, were quickly forming—particularly regarding Jimin and Jungkook, who were standing just a little too close, their attention shifting between you and the conversation.

“Seriously, it’s not a problem.” Taehyung continued, turning his attention back to you. “You could help us take down Jungkook.” 

At that, Jungkook scoffed from where he stood, arms crossed. “Excuse me?”

Taehyung barely acknowledged him, instead giving you his most dramatic, wide-eyed, brown puppy-dog stare. “And think about it, Y/N—we could sort of combine parties. A win-win situation.”

You hesitated, glancing at your friends. The idea wasn’t entirely awful, but—

“Oh, I don’t know…” You trailed off, shifting on your feet.

Your hesitation wasn’t just because of Jungkook. Not entirely, at least.

Jungkook, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke up, his voice carrying an edge of amusement. “What, scared to lose?”

You narrow your eyes in his direction. “Not at all.” 

“I think it’s a great idea!” Kenna chimes in. 

With that it was settled. The girls set up their lane while Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin wrapped up their current game. They were only a few frames away from finishing, which gave them just enough time to add your name to their board. The order was set: Taehyung, Jimin, Jungkook, then you.

And then, of course, the so-called guys from Neuro arrived.

Jackson and Will.

You actually knew both of them; surgical residents, unbearably arrogant, and exactly as obnoxious as you remembered. It was wild how the guy running Neuro was one of the kindest people you’d ever met, yet his residents were straight-up meatheads. Lucky for you, they seemed preoccupied, locked in some ridiculous display of charm with Kenna and Jea.

You had found yourself sitting with Jungkook. Luckily because of the long day you had and the lack of wine your mind wasn’t drifting like it was last week. The only distracting detail about him was that he smelled good. His lip ring which was on full display tonight was also noted. 

Not ideal but right now you would take it over having to make nice with things 1 and 2. You had also gotten yourself a drink and some food so you could pretend to be preoccupied. Except it was extremely quiet sitting here. You and Jungkook made no eye contact or said anything. Meanwhile, Jimin and Taehyung were deep in discussion, strategizing on how to beat Jungkook. Spoiler, it wasn’t going well.

“I gave you the right ball.” You pointed out to Taehyung, watching him scowl at his fingers like they had personally betrayed him.

“Yeah, and it turns out the ball wasn’t the problem.” Jungkook mumbled, which got a small laugh out of the both of you.

Jungkook stepped up to bowl next, a sleek black ball in hand. He took his time lining up the shot before sending it straight down the lane. Effortless. The ball smacked into the pins with an echoing crash, sending them flying in a perfect strike. Everyone clapped, minus Jimin, Taehyung, and yourself, all three of you trying to stay stubbornly unimpressed. He got the first strike of the two games. 

“Oh we are so cooked...” Jimin moaned next to you. 

“He literally doesn’t get tired.” Taehyung with slight annoyance lacing his voice. Almost like a petulant child.

“Awe come on boys. Just one strike. Doesn’t mean he’ll win.” You try to cheer them up but they both still have looks of defeat. 

“Oh my sweet naïve angel. Jungkook almost always wins.” Taehyung pats your arm, “Stop showing off!” 

“It goes like this every single time.” Jimin slumps down into his chair.

Looking down Jungkook was strolling back with a cocky nonchalance. He was good at bowling, you already knew that. That familiar almost knee jerk annoyance tickled the back of your mind. 

“Well you know what they say, you are either good at bowling or good at sex.” You kick your feet but you make Taehyung almost choke on his drink. Jungkook stopped dead in his tracks at your words. You had a cocky smile and he had his tongue in cheek look. “I guess we know which one you’re good at.” 

 Taehyung had to cover his face with how hard he was going to laugh. Jimin is unaware of the history and why he thinks it’s so funny. 

“Oh so the smack talk already begins. Why don’t we see you bowl?” Jungkook sank back down into his chair. Challenge filling the air. 

You may be talking out of your ass, you knew how to bowl but not like you were amazing. “Alright.” 

“Go Y/N!” Layla cheered, with few other whoops here and there. 

You approached the lane, selecting your ball with an air of nonchalance. You readjusted your wrist, lined up, and let the ball roll down the lane.

Pins scattered in a loud, violent clatter.

Strike.

Jimin and Taehyung both stood with some unanticipated excitement at your sudden show of bowling prowess. Which honestly may have been luck. You’ll take it, turning back to everyone and taking a confident bow. Jungkook had that all very familiar look in his eye. One you could so easily pull out of him in any argument. 

“Big deal. One strike.” He taunts, “Can you replicate it?” 

“Never thought I would encourage this but beat his ass Y/N.” Taehyung pointed at Jungkook, while taunting. 

You shrug, your ball coming back up the alley just in time. “Let’s find out.” 

Although it was now Taehyung's turn technically, you take your ball, doing the same thing you did the first time. No stress and not even thinking about it. You roll your shoulders back and send the ball down the lane just like the first time. Again, it was not elegant, but it was just enough. Split the lame, ten pin down. Strike two.

“Let’s go!” Jimin cheered from behind you, the girls cheering you as well.

With a cool smile you spun on your heel and sauntered back to your seat. High fiving Jimin as you sat down. Taking a sip of your drink made the strike feel so much better. You didn’t look at Jungkook but you can see him out of the corner of your eye. He was flipping his lip ring from side to side. It hadn’t gone past you that it was on display tonight.

Jungkook’s annoyance was clear though, and that put you on cloud nine.

It really was game on. The next few frames continued with tense silence between the two of you as you both went point for point, neither one of you really able to pull ahead of the other. It was actually uncanny because it had maybe been two or three years since you last had gone bowling. You didn’t complain, some cosmic machine was on your side today and you would take Jungkook down with it.

It was around frame five, Jungkook bowled a nine but picked up the spare. You at this point had gotten yourself so ramped up you were no longer sitting. Neither was Jungkook, everyone else was mingling but the two of you were so wrapped up in this game. This fierce competition had made the night even more fun for everyone else.

“Alright champ. You got this. You can easily bowl a nine or a strike and pull ahead of this guy.” Jimin had both of his hands on your shoulders, patting them like you were a wrestling champ.

You actually got to chat with Jimin tonight and he was a cool guy, very determined to see you beat Jungkook. “Thanks coach.”

As Jungkook was coming back to the table your were going up to the lane, bumping shoulders. Jungkook just rolled his eyes, not entertaining you. He didn’t want to show it but he was having a good time. He barely ever had competition with Taehyung or Jimin so to have someone he was actually competing with was… refreshing. To say the least.

“Awe Jungkook, so quiet. Slipping up on your game?” Taehyung taunted and Jungkook just brushed him off.

“Say’s the one with a measly 26 points right now.” Jungkook raised a brow to him.

“Hey, I’m fully invested in Y/N now. I’ve given up on me.” Taehyung says looked to you but then looking back at Jungkook with a mischievous grin. “Maybe something you should be doing too.”

“Stop it with that!” Jungkook shoves his shoulder. Another cheer roaring from Jimin and you in the lane. You bowled a strike this round. Which means Jungkook will need one next round to keep up. Both you and Jimin jumping up and down holding each other’s hands out of excitement.

You were on a roll and after today you seriously needed it. Beating Jungkook will be a welcome celebration after this week.

You step off to the side so Taehyung can come up and take his turn but caught in a small traffic stop with Jackson.

“Oh sorry.” You try to step around him but he stops you. He moves right in toe with you.

“You’re really good.” He compliments. A bit of a flirtatious tone layer his words. “You bowl often?”

You shake your head trying to take another step away. “Not really. It’s rare that I ever bowl to be honest.”

“So what do you do? I mean outside of the hospital and such?” Jackson continues, trying to maintain your attention. Which you were unsure how you managed to get caught in his cross hairs.

“Aren’t you here with Kenna or Jea or something?” You decide to redirect to his original night plans, which you look to Jea who seems to be pretty wrapped up in whatever Will is talking about so that answers that question.

“Not really.” He shrugs acting like it’s so casual, which maybe it was you didn’t know. “You work with Dr. Kim, right?”

“Uh yes but it’s temporary.” You scratch the side of your head. Somehow you had backed all the way up that you had made it back to your seat. Not to your avail, the guys were up doing things. Unfortunately the sanctuary that was your table is now being interrupted.

You try to see if Layla is unoccupied but she is about to bowl herself so she is completely distracted. Something in the way this guy is talking to you feels so college. He’s trying any tactic to keep your attention, so much so he is now sitting next to you.

“He’s a nice guy. I’ve meant to learn from him but he seems to favor that one guy. Yoongi is it?”

“Uh yeah Dr. Min. He’s very talented.” You try to look for any excuse, “I think it’s your turn to bowl.” You point back to their lane.

“I’ll just have Will bowl for me.” He waves it off.

“Listen… uhh Jackson.” You started but before you would say something else.

“Y/N.” You hear your name called from the lane. Looking over you see Jungkook holding his ball. Waving you over once you acknowledge him. You are confused for a second but you use the opening to escape. Thank god.

You saunter over, ready for whatever trash talk Jungkook probably has in store for you. “What? Admitting I’m a better bowler than you? I mean it’s clear as day.”

“First of all, never,” Jungkook scoffed, pointing his ball at you before holding it between his hands. “Second, you looked like you needed an out.”

You tilt your head, “What?”

“Bonehead number 5.” He subtly points back to Jackson who was still at the table. Kenna seemed to find her way to him again now. He looked a little less interested in talking to her as she was talking to him.

“Oh…” You paused for a moment, he noticed that? “Uhh yeah thanks. I was a little trapped I guess.”

He hummed in acknowledgment. “No worries. Now, watch closely. You can witness my incredible bowling skills up close.”

“I’m alright. I've been watching your shitty technique all night.”

“Shitty?” Jungkook's eyes widened at the remark. “My technique is anything but shitty.”

“Oh come on, it's barely practical. You make it look all fancy and sweep your leg all far out behind you.” You mimic the motion, which is exactly as you said it. “You look stupid.”

“Oh really? Then what is this?” Jungkook mimicking your oh so nonchalant throws. You didn’t really have a lot of flair to it. Just a simple easy swing. “At least mine looks interesting.”

“And ridiculous. Simple is always better.” You shrug.

The truth was both ways were working. Your scores reflected it. Neither of you was doing better, you were tied. You both were doing something right. Which continued to be reflected when Jungkook bowled another 9. Good, could be worse. Some playful boo’s came from Jimin and Taehyung.

“Awe, only a nine? Must be tough having to follow up my strike.” You shake your head like you were disappointed or something.

“I see after last week we are dropping all the niceties .” Jungkook commented, testing the water.

“Hmm, I only have so much kindness I can expend for you at one time.” You mused, watching him line up for his spare attempt.

Jungkook didn’t say anything right away, just lined up his shot and sent the ball rolling down the lane. You both watched as it curved slightly before knocking down the last pin with a satisfying clatter. A spare. Not bad.

He was still keeping up. “Games still afoot. I’ll need to keep working harder to stay ahead.”

“Barely ahead.” He holds up a finger to confirm his point.

“Please you just don’t want to admit that I have been ahead this whole time. You’re just playing a sad game of catch up.” Thus the trash talking continues. 

“I’m just biding my time for when you slip up.” “Just move so I can maintain my lead.” You brush past him, Jungkook decides he’s going to stay right here as well. Having a feeling his proximity will maybe just make you nervous enough. 

You get a good grip on your ball, but you can tell Jungkook is hovering. Standing just off to the side next to you, like you did him. Probably trying to see if it will rattle your game. Nice try demon spawn.

“Don’t mess up.” He said it right as you were about to throw the ball but you stopped yourself, glaring at him before you totally botched that throw.

“Fuck off.” You lightly shove the ball into his stomach. Jungkook in turn pretends to be injured holding his stomach all dramatically.

You ignore him, repositioning yourself in front of the lane. Just as you go to throw you catch a quick glimpse in the corner of your eye, he was observing you very intently. That one moment of hesitation affected the ball just enough. Having it tilt slightly to the left when it reached the pins. Only dropping 6 pins.

Jungkook took two paces, standing just behind you.

“You missed.”

“I know.” You look over your shoulder at him, you were fuming.

“You hesitated.”

“You did that on purpose.”

“Everything is fair game on this court.” Jungkook raises his arms up in surrender. With his arms up you take the full opportunity to push him back away. It was playful, and almost made you want to crawl out of your skin.

Jungkook laughs at the action and backs down. Going to sit back at the table.

The game continued, this time there was more civil banter. Which made Taehyung all the more annoying and in Jungkook’s ear and texts the rest of the night saying things like. God get married already. Do we need to leave you two alone? Get a room. Which Jungkook promptly ignored every single one. Not letting Taehyung continue to encourage this fantasy that he’s concocted.

Jungkook was still having that same feeling in the pit of his stomach. You were enjoying each other’s company for the first time in forever that wasn’t upheld by extreme intoxication. It was just hanging out, like any other set of friends.

So weird.

You had all come to the final frame. Jimin and Taehyung basically just gutter bawled their last attempts because they really did not care by this point. Layla and Kenna were still here, but Jackson bailed at some point. Jea and Will left together as well.

“You know, for this being my first impression of you. You’re literally so cool.” Kenna stands next to you as you were just waiting for your turn.

“Thank you.” You nodded, “Although it is just bowling.”

“I can’t bowl for shit, and you got your friend all up in a twist about it.” She shrugs, then points to Jungkook. Layla also standing here leans into you. “There anything going on there?” Her curiosity peaked, did you two just give off a vibe or something?

“God no.” You shake your head. “Just known each other for a long time.”

“He’s cute. It's a shame to let that all go to waste.” She bumps you as if to say you should be making a move.

You brush them off. “Please, he's the most obnoxious person I’ve ever met.”

“I don’t know. People who find each other annoying to spend the amount of energy you two do getting each other all riled up.” Kenna quipped.

Oh how you wish Melanie and Ash were here. They would be trash talking Jungkook with you, not calling him cute or whatever. 

Jungkook, for his final frame, had already thrown a strike. Then he followed up with a second one. They were quick. You get a third attempt with two strikes, but he only bowled a nine with that final throw. Then you stepped up, Taehyung and Jimin waiting in major anticipation.

“Finish him!” Jimin said in a gravely tone.

“You just need one strike and you have him.” Taehyung was basically bouncing out of his seat as you picked up your ball. Jungkook was already in the process of pulling off his bowling shoes, you were unsure if he was doing it because he was so confident he would win or he already has conceded.

Either way, you wanted to crush him.

You step right on up, rolling your shoulders. Then letting the ball glide from your hand down the alleyway. You knew the moment you let go though, it veered just slightly. Just enough. Then bam, strike.

“And that’s game.” You spin around, arms outstretched.

“You still have one more attempt, Make it hurt.” Jimin encouraged you.

You glanced down to the bowling balls that were left over. Deciding to finish it off using Jungkook’s. The black ball was way to heavy for you for sue but what a fitting end.

“I think I’ll finish it off with yours.” Holding the ball up in a taunting manner. As best you could because again, heavy.

Jungkook just watched in solemn defeat, as you barely threw his ball down the alley. Only hitting a few pins, but solidifying your win. Which got big cheers from Jimin and Taehyung and high fives all around. Jungkook’s winning streak has finally been broken by you. It had to sting and you hoped it did.

“Alright let’s get out of here.”

Pretty quickly you all cleared out. You were flying really fucking high now. What a way to end your week.

You said goodbye to Kenna and Layla who came together. You were fine heading home on your own and it was hardly late. But as you turned toward the door, you noticed that Jimin, Taehyung, and—surprisingly—Jungkook were still lingering behind.

Jimin slung an arm over your shoulder, voice laced with amusement. “Okay, so you officially have a standing invite now. As long as you keep beating him.” He jerked his thumb toward Jungkook, who was still a few steps behind, hands still deep in his pockets.

“Oh, I’ll use any excuse to make Jungkook look like a loser.” You teased, practically skipping with excitement.

Jungkook scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m not a loser.”

“Debatable.”

“Well,” Taehyung cut in, draping himself lazily over Jungkook’s shoulder, “I say, as a penalty for breaking his winning streak, Jungkook has to make sure our reigning champion gets home safe.”

Jungkook groaned loudly as Taehyung clapped him on the back, half-shoving him in your direction. “Come on, we never said there was a penalty.”

You smirked and kicked him lightly in the ankle, making him stumble slightly. “What a sore loser.”

“I’m not a sore loser.”

“Are too.”

“This is going to go on forever.” Jimin laughed, already backing away with Taehyung. “Have a good night. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Jungkook huffed. “If I don’t make it home alive, you’ll know where to look.”

Jimin and Taehyung waved him off, entirely unsympathetic.

As their voices faded, silence settled between you and Jungkook. You pulled out your phone, feeling the energy of the moment start to dissipate. Feeling a little awkward in the silence.

“You don’t have to.” You said before he could speak.

Jungkook blinked. “Huh?”

“I can get an Uber.” You clarified, tapping through the app. “It’s fine.”

Jungkook frowned slightly, glancing around. The parking lot was mostly empty now, save for a few stragglers. “It’s like a five-minute drive.”

You shrugged. “You live in the opposite direction.”

“So?”

“So… I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

Jungkook let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s not an inconvenience. It’s my penalty, remember?”

You hesitated, still watching your phone screen as it searched for a ride. Unfortunately, there weren’t many cars nearby, and the estimated wait time was creeping up by the second.

Jungkook caught sight of it, and before you could argue again, he tilted his head at you, voice dropping slightly. “You don’t have to be weird about it.”

That made you look up. Surprised by his proximity. “I’m not being weird and don’t stand so close.”

“You kind of are.” His gaze was steady, unwavering. “Unless you’re scared to be in a car with me?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. You shove your phone back in your pocket, “Oh, please.”

“Then just get in the car.” His voice was softer now, but still firm. “It’s literally a five-minute drive.”

You held his stare, lips pressing together in thought. There was something about the way he said it—not teasing, not pushy, just... certain.

You conceid. “Fine. But if you are going to bitch and moan about losing the whole time i’m going to tuck and roll out of the car.”

Jungkook smirked, already heading toward his car. “Who says I won’t need too.” 

Jungkook was parked pretty close to the entrance. His car was nice, you wouldn’t be able to say what kind of car it was but it was clean. Sleek, looked expensive. Leather interior and everything. Sitting down though the scent of his cologne completely filled your senses. Oh this wasn’t good. It made your mind wander, and you had to rip it back to reality. 

Jungkook’s car was warm, the hum of the engine low and steady as he pulled out of the parking lot. You kept your gaze fixed on the window, watching the streetlights blur past, anything to keep your mind from acknowledging the way his cologne wrapped around you like a slow, suffocating trap.

Damn. Why did he have to smell so good?

Jungkook, to his credit, was quiet at first. He didn’t immediately start complaining about his loss, nor did he try to make conversation. It was almost... too quiet.

You risked a glance in his direction. His hands were steady on the wheel, his jaw tight, his brows slightly furrowed in concentration. He looked—careful. Hesitant, even.

“You always drive this slow?” You teased, cutting through the uncomfortable silence.

Jungkook scoffed, eyes flicking toward you before returning to the road. “I’m driving like a normal person.”

“Feels like you’re trying to drag this out.” You mused, turning back to the window.

“You think too highly of yourself.” He shot back, but you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You just shook your head, but didn’t push it further. The drive continued in an almost comfortable silence, the soft hum of the radio filling the space between you. The longer you sat there, the more you became acutely aware of him—his presence, the warmth of the car, the occasional sound of him drumming his fingers lightly on the wheel.

Then, without warning—

“I should’ve won.” Jungkook muttered, as if he’d been holding it the whole time.

You turned to him with a dramatic groan. “Oh my god.”

“I’m serious!” He continued, as if you hadn’t reacted. “You got lucky. That wasn’t skill.”

“It was absolutely skill.”

“It was a fluke.”

“A win is a win.”

Jungkook let out a scoff, shaking his head. “You got, like, three pins.”

“Three pins is enough to win.”

“You were aiming for the gutter.”

“I was not!” You reach over hitting him in the arm which doesn’t seem to elicit any reaction.

Jungkook gave you a side-eye so sharp you almost burst out laughing. “Next time, we’re doing best out of three.” He said, tone final.

“Next time?” You raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly toward him. “So you’re assuming I’ll go bowling with you again?”

Jungkook’s grip on the wheel tightened for just a second. He hesitated, but only for a beat before recovering. “You’d love the chance to beat me twice.” he shrugged. “Admit it.”

You pursed your lips, pretending to consider. “Maybe.”

Another moment of silence stretched between you. You shifted slightly in your seat, playing with the hem of your sleeve. Something about the atmosphere had changed. It wasn’t just playful now, it was charged. The kind of tension that settled heavy in the air, making it harder to breathe, making your thoughts stray to places you weren’t sure they should go.

And yet, Jungkook couldn’t help himself. “Your technique is still trash, though. Who taught you to bowl? Your grandma?”

You turned to him, brows knitting together. “What? You’re not serious.”

Jungkook glanced at you, confused by your sudden shift in tone. “What?”

“You don’t remember?”

His frown deepened. “Remember what?”

“You taught me.”

Jungkook blinked. “When?”

“In college.” You studied his face, waiting for recognition to hit. When it didn’t, you sighed. “We were working on that project together. It was after I told you about everything with David. We were both drained that week, and you suggested we go bowling to take our minds off things. I told you I sucked, and you spent the whole night showing me how to throw the ball properly.”

Jungkook went still, the memory slowly threading its way back into his mind. A pause, then—

“Oh my god,” he muttered, realization dawning. “I did.”

You laughed softly at his delayed reaction. “Yeah. You did.”

He let out a short breath, shaking his head as he fully processed it. “Damn. I really created my own downfall, huh?”

You smirked, settling back against the seat. “Who knew your own teachings would come back to bite you?”

Jungkook shot you a side glance, lips twitching. “That’s the last time I will ever help you.”

“Time to tuck and roll.” You fake the motion to open the door, not actually intending to open the door for real. Your sudden motion makes Jungkook reach for your arm. His fingers catching around the top of your arm. 

“You’re insufferable.” Jungkook’s hand lingered for a moment too long before letting you go. You adjusted back in your seat. Your hands resting in your lap. 

Silence hung between the two of you again, not uncomfortable. Quiet and charged. Your eyes scanned the dashboard. Look at the navigation in the middle. Scanning over everything, the first mistake being when your eyes accidentally caught their attention on his hands. A relaxed grip on the wheel. 

Get your eyes off his hands.

The small voice in the back of your mind was almost screaming and you complied and pulled your eyes away. You had done a pretty good job tonight at not letting your mind drift in that direction but the silence was not helping. 

Jungkook out of the corner of his eye could see you shift in your seat. He couldn’t place if you were comfortable or not. Probably not, just because. Well it was him. Your hand came up scratching the back of your neck but it had inadvertently moved some of your hair away. It immediately made Jungkook’s mind return to last weekend. You were innocently helping him stretch out his neck, nothing intimate about it but his mind went back there. 

It was about your hands being on him.

Because unfortunately he knew what that felt like now. It was imprinted in his mind. He stopped himself dead in the tracks. Not just because if it went any further he was going to have a serious problem, but because it wasn’t right. 

Yeah you guys slept together so what. Water under the bridge. 

You shifted again, and it caught his attention again. What was happening? Why was he suddenly so focussed every time you moved? He needed to think of anything else, work or animals or something.

He rested one of his hands on the shifter in the center. It caught your attention. His hand rested too casually and too close. Keep your eyes locked out the window. Watch the pretty lights and stop thinking about his hands. You were not that desperate. Remember he’s Jungkook, gross disgusting, we hate that guy. 

You were saved by the bell though because you recognized the street as yours. You would be home in no time and go take a very very cold shower or something. Within a moment Jungkook, stopped at what he recognized to be your building. Vaguely remembering it from when he walked you that one time. 

With zero hesitation you were basically leaping to get out of the car. “Well have a good night, loser.” You say before closing the door before Jungkook could get a word in, his face was priceless though because there was annoyance all over it. Walking as quickly as you could to get into your building. 

Jungkook drove home. Playing music as loud as he could to drown out any thoughts that could enter his mind. Wanted or not.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

EDIT: Here is a little extra from the bowling scenes!

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Taglist!: @akkhddhfairys @njcxlewxrld @kooklovee @ericawantstoescape @pitchblack0309 @rpwprpwprpwprw @lanie97 @httpjeonlicious @jollis87 @oopscoop @rinkud @deepikhaprakash @chuuritoz @jkslvsnella @eisthv @bangatanily @smwhrinthehaze @jjkologys @nono13bnd @vantelover1306 @jalexad @sadgirlroo @chimmisbae @smoljjks @miniesjams32 @daskewl @kookienooki @in-out-inbetween @kookienooki @heartwith0uthe @washingmsheenheart @ninisica @btstrology @lilacstellar

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[bunny-jpeg]

kink-o-ween - day twenty-two

george russell - mirror sex

tags: pwp/smut, insecure!reader, mirror sex, praise, established relationship, loving!george, teasing, doggy style, pull out method

a/n: heyyy, kinkoween is being finished (yay), october was a rough month for me. but i am back and ready to post the rest of it! thank you for the support and patience, it has really benefited me both emotionally and creatively!

kink-o-ween master-list

"what do you mean, my love?" george looked at you. an expression of worry crossed his handsome features.

you shifted from one foot to another. it felt weird to say it out loud. you felt your cheeks grow hot. this felt stupid, but you swallowed down the feeling. you looked at him and said, "george, i'm not pretty."

his expression changed a little and he reached for you. his hands so kind on your face as he looked you in the eyes. he replied, "well, of course you're not pretty. you're beautiful. the most beautiful woman i've ever seen or met."

the mirror in your shared bedroom with george was full length. it was good to make sure everything looked as it should without cutting anything off. you looked in it almost every day before you left the apartment. now it took on a different meaning as george put you on your knees in front of it.

he was behind you. you were still in the sundress that showed y a healthy amount of cleavage. a nice display for your lover. and george loved to sight of you in it. an off-white with apples on it.

"so beautiful." he said softly, "so, so beautiful." why don't you see what i see?"

"my chicken wing arms. how round my face is." you started, but were silenced as george turned your head to kiss you passionately on the lips.

"i don't want to hear it." he said, "so what? you look amazing in every angle. you're perfect in every angle i see of you."

you blushed before george gave you another sweet kiss. he then started to unzip the dress. while it looked great on you, it would look even better on the floor.

"you're so pretty... no, no, beautiful." he said softly as he pulled the sleeves of the dress off of you shoulders. he kissed the back of the left one and you made a soft noise.

"george."

he only responded by placing his lips on your neck as he wrapped his strong arms around you. he was always your protector. your lover. there was no need to have insecurities when he was with you. he then said, "look at yourself." he cooed and it made you shiver with want.

you shifted a little on your knees before you helped george get you out of your dress. george loved you in a good sundress, but to see if off of you. naked before him. it made him do a double take.

"look at you." he said, "look how beautiful you are." he tilted your head to the side to press a tender kiss at your pulse point.

"i just see myself." you said he rubbed himself up against you. you knew his cock was straining against his expensive jeans.

"say something nice about yourself." he said, "be nice to yourself." he knew it was hard for you. so he had to get creative about ways to help you gain a bit of confidence.

"george."

"just one thing." he egged you on as he held you in his arms. you were near nude in front of the mirror. exposed to yourself and your lover.

you replied, "i guess. i like my smile." you felt heat in your core. you felt the throb between your legs.

your lover kissed your temple, "excellent." he said with love. he got you out of your undergarments. this his clothes. both of you naked in front of the mirror. george caught glimpses of your naked for. he held onto your hips for a moment before he kissed your neck and shoulders.

"honey." you said as you ended up on your elbows with your hips raised for him. it excited your lover. the driver was enamored by you, in all the ways he could be.

he tilted your hips a little more and he sank his cock into you. inch by inch as he eased into you. he cursed under his breath for a moment before he said, "i love you. every inch of you. you drive me insane. i never want anyone else in my life." the fire fueled in his stomach as he started to move against you.

"you flirt." you moaned as you held onto the edge of the rug under you. the piece was expensive enough that you weren't going to get rug burn by the end of it.

george chuckles and said with love, "it's not flirting when it's the truth."

you moaned, "i love you too." and shifted your hips a little to get more comfortable.

"say something else about yourself. i want to hear it." he groaned as he moved against you. he could see the pleasure across your face in the reflection of the mirror.

your flushed a little bit. you felt the sting of heat in your ears, "just one other thing?" you asked as he thrusted.

"just one more."

you looked in the mirror as you were fucked with steady thrusts. you glimpsed at yourself and licked your lips, "i love my eyes. they're not the most interesting, but they're pretty. and i like that i can always make you laugh."

george smiled before he leaned over you further and kissed your face in places he could reach, "see was that so bad? saying nice things about yourself." his tone was a little teasing and it made your core feel warm.

you shuddered and moaned a little louder as you felt immense pleasure. you were aroused by this. to see your boyfriend make love to you.

"i love you." you moaned.

george shakily exhaled, "i love you too, every chance i get. i always need to tell you how much you mean to me." his words made you moan, your pleasure coursed through your body and in your blood. you clutched tightly onto the rug as you kept your gaze on the mirror in front of you.

"look at yourself." he purred as he worked his cock into you. your wetness left him feeling hot all over. he glanced at the mirror. he licked his lips at the sight of you.

he wished you saw what he saw everyday. how stunning you were both in appearance and also personality. you were a fire in george's soul, the inferno in his blood as he continued to rock against you. praise flowed freely from his lips and his words warmed your soul.

"you're so beautiful." he said as he moved against you nice and slow. his thrusts had force behind them, but he was gentle with you. you moaned and george kissed your bare back.

"please, fuck, honey."

"you can't stop me praising you." he remarked, "i want you to feel like you're on top of the world. that no one could stop you." he said as moved a little faster.

you could feel the pleasure bubble in your core as the rush flowed through you. you could feel the intense feeling all over you. you moaned, "i love you." you had no other words.

"and i love you." he promised as he worked his hips against your sweet cunt. your pussy felt amazing around his cock. george looked in the mirror at the sight of you drenched in pleasure.

you looked at the two of you, caught the sight of your lover staring. even now he looked s handsome. he pushed hair out of his face and the two of you continued to make love on the floor. your knees ached a little from the position but at that moment you didn't care.

"my beautiful girl." he said with heat tinged in his voice as he felt his orgasm close.

you were the first to finish with your face against the rug. you held onto it and moaned loudly. george worked your hips as he came soon after. hr pulled out and finished on your back with a tight groan. he shuddered and his cock twitched when he saw his cum covering your back.

"so, do you believe me now? that i think you're beautiful." he panted heavily. as he leaned back on his heels for a moment to admire you. he wiped the sweat from his forehead. it wasn't long before he was up off the ground to get tissues to clean your back with.

you admitted, "yes... i believe you." and when george returned he kissed you on the cheek before he cleaned you up. you melted a little at the touches.

if anyone thought you were beautiful, it would be george. and as you got your underwear back on, you admired yourself in the mirror. and maybe george was right. you were beautiful. <3

[exquisink]

When The Daylight's Gone, Ch2 - Yandere!Gojo Satoru x Fem!Sorcerer Reader

warnings. nothing in particular in this chapter, except for a brief mention of masturbation. but heed the tags on AO3. This chapter has been already posted there but I forgot to cross-post. Whoops.

wc. almost 11K this chapter, lmao.

Adjusting to life at Jujutsu Tech may not have been the smoothest ride for you, but everyone has been kind, considerate, and helpful with you; everyone has been ready to help and practically at your beck and call. Especially Gojo-sama. You’re not oblivious to how much he seems to be interested in helping you feel part of the organization—or whatever you’d call this (it’s definitely not truly a school)—and you let him know that his efforts don’t go unnoticed, which seems to change something in him every time you do. It’s almost as if he doesn’t get enough gratitude for all of the effort he puts into making a change around here. While his colleagues don’t seem all that impressed with him for a myriad of reasons removed from his role, you find that you think of him as more and more compelling of a person. 

You notice it in his little mannerisms around his students, in particular. He and Kento Nanami share a common goal: they want to protect those flames within the students, they want to protect their youth and allow them room to just be kids. You have a feeling that in the world of jujutsu, you are forced to grow up far too quickly as you are thrust into some of the most gruesome situations that most people honestly cannot fathom experiencing themselves. It’s why you have removed yourself from hunting curses, much like Ijichi-sama. It’s not something you can stomach. Having the curse of seeing spirits is something you already wish you didn’t have, but that doesn’t mean you can’t find a way to help others. That’s the whole reason you’ve taken this job in the first place. 

But Gojo-sama…it absolutely doesn’t take a genius to see that the way he acts around others is a mask. It’s painfully obvious the more you hang around him, the more you observe from the sidelines, and you wonder if somewhere in all of that haughty, obnoxious, condescending as fuck facade of his that he wishes someone else had done the same for him. Maybe back in his days as a student here, he hasn’t had someone to shield him from the horrors of the world and he’s witnessed them far too early in his life.

“So! I think the students are going to enjoy a quick trip to Shinjuku!” Gojo suggests, drawing your attention back to the present as he leans so far back into his office chair that it begins to creak against the wooden floor. His hands clasp together as he continues to speak. “And while Nanami is off babysitting them, that means I have a lot more free time to spend with y—I mean you guys!” 

Shoko shakes her head. “I can’t guarantee I’ll have my schedule freed up for your sake, Satoru.”

“Not even if drinks are on me?” Gojo-sama offers with a little smirk playing on his lips. Now you’re the one shaking your head, a hint of a twinkle in your eyes. They may be authority figures in their own rights, but they all have their own vices, you suppose. They probably don’t expect to be the greatest role models to the students, and perhaps these are behaviors or habits of theirs they keep shielded from the impressionable youth as much as possible.

“Yes, not even after that,” Shoko deadpans, her expression serious. That’s a sign to take to heart, and Gojo backs off. Smart move. “I need to cut back.”

“Such a shame,” Gojo pouts, before grinning wide at you as Shoko takes her leave. With that fucking devastatingly beautiful smile of his that seems to just hide so much deep-seated loneliness that you can’t believe people are outright refusing his offers. Oh, curse you and your tendency to give people the benefit of the doubt (even if they have continually shown you reasons not to, but right now Gojo doesn’t appear to fit that description). “Guess that just leaves you and me.”

“So it does,” you reply with a lazy smile. The last thing anyone wants to feel like is an obligation, and you don’t want to make anyone feel like that; you’ve known what that’s like with past friendships yourself. Honestly, you still aren’t sure why you’re making a point in accompanying him. But you also feel like it’s just basic decency as a person. As a participant in the human experience overall, if you must go so far as to say so. 

No one wants to be lonely, not even a guy as boisterous and annoying as Satoru Gojo. (Even if you don’t personally find him as such like the others do.) With a life like his, that seems to keep him on some higher plane of existence as everyone else around him, that must keep him feeling isolated from everyone else. That doesn’t feel good no matter how much someone likes being powerful.

There is a thought that keeps popping up in your mind with each exchange you share with Satoru Gojo.

Is his status all that is cracked up to be for him?

Is he lonelier than he would ever admit to anyone in his life? Even to you–or anyone else in his life he ever considered close to his heart? 

Doesn’t he wish he could drop the act and show people who he really is, or is he already so accustomed to the icy cold backhanded slap of rejection that he may as well play into the role jujutsu society imposed on him? 

There’s so much more you want to know about Satoru Gojo, but you don’t know if you’re jumping into things too quickly. It’s already been a few months, but you still feel out of the loop in a lot of aspects. The more you get acquainted with everything and everyone around you, you find the less you truly understand or truly know much of anything. When Ijichi takes you under his wing for training, you’re not sure how to utilize your own cursed energy–what little you believe you have of it. But Ijichi reminds you–that you are more powerful than you think you are–after all Gojo insists that you might be better off labeled as Grade 2 or Grade 1 with the potential your cursed technique has. 

Should you take his words to heart, though? Better not to let it get to your ego (however little you have).

“Hey,” Gojo waves his hand in front of your face. “You kind of zoned out for a little bit there–everything good?”

“Oh!” You blink owlishly; you have been lost in your mind a lot lately huh? “Yeah! I”m okay. So what are we doing now?”

“I wanted to ask if you’ve seen any progress with your cursed technique,” Gojo replies like he’s been reading your mind, but you doubt that’s how the Six Eyes technique of his works. Maybe it’s just a hunch or a feeling he’s got and he just happens to be right about what you’ve been drifting off into thought about in that small pocket of time. 

“Er…don’t you ever check in with Ijichi-san?” you inquire in a wobbly tone. You honestly have not been keeping as much track of your progress as you should have been… you didn’t expect to be quizzed on it like this so soon but then again…maybe you should have.

“Of course I do!” Gojo scoffs, “I just can’t hear your perspective? I want to know what you think and you forget I’m here to help you out too if you’re not sure what you’re doing.”

You shake your head. “I really have absolutely no idea what I’m doing with any of this! All I can do right now is create veils, and that’s as far as it goes right now.”

“Hey! That’s still progress,” Gojo insists with a thumbs up. “I mean, did you have any exposure to anything related to jujutsu before all of this?” 

Another shake of your head. Nope. You’re pretty much fresh meat in regards to any of this, and from what you understand, sorcerers themselves are extremely rare breeds of humanity. You are stunned to see how small the classes in both Tokyo and Kyoto are. 

“See?” Gojo beams at you so wide the corners of his eyes crinkle. “It may be slow progress, but it’s still progress.”

You laugh at that bit. “You actually sound like a real teacher, Gojo-sama.”

“Come on, you know I told you that you don’t have to call me that,” he counters, “We may be working together, but we’re friends too, remember?”

You bite into your cheek as you chew on a proper response. 

“Are you not my superior?” you point out not in an accusatory way, but isn’t it not too intimate to do something like that? After all, it’s already feeling too intimate for you to be calling Ijichi ‘Ijichi’ or ‘Ijichi-san,’ but he’s also insisting on disregarding formalities. Maybe you are too much of a stickler for the traditions, but it’s mostly out of respect for everyone here. After all they have gone through experiences and trials and tribulations you have yet to experience yourself. You have so much to learn from all of them.

“I mean, yeah! But that doesn’t mean you have to get all formal. You’re not with Shoko!” he reflects for a moment, then adds: “Or Ijichi or Nanami!” 

“Okay, okay! Fine, I’ll work on it, Gojo.”

“Oh, come on. I”m working so hard to make you comfortable around here.”

“I’m just trying to respect your authority, Gojo,” you counter with a smile. Gojo just stares at you for a few moments before surrendering.

“Fine, fine. I’m just saying. It’s not necessary, you know? You’re not a student or anything either. At least, you’re not mine .”

“But I am still learning a thing or two from you and Ijichi,” you remark, “And Principal Yaga especially.”

“Still, since you’re so new to all of this, don’t expect anything to happen overnight, you know? Not everyone can be me, I guess,” he scoffs again, rubbing his nose and you find yourself rolling your eyes in jest. Yeah, there it is. That (honestly warranted) self-confidence. 

Most everyone around him finds it obnoxious, but you can’t help but find it refreshing. A lot of people are afraid of keeping that flame burning inside them, but he isn’t. People always want to play small to make others comfortable but he’s not interested in that, not necessarily in the way someone expects. 

Satoru Gojo is an instructor, first and foremost, and the goal of an instructor is to mold his students to become stronger, faster, and better versions of themselves–in fact he has stated on several occasions to you that he wants them all to surpass him. Because one day he’s not going to be here just like anyone else, and since he’s also not shy about droning on and on about how he wants to reset and reshape jujutsu society as it stands now, he channels all of his energy into this one singular goal. 

You can’t help but admire him for that kind of dedication, that kind of passion. You are curious what made him choose this kind of path because if you had to be honest with yourself, Gojo doesn’t seem the teaching or Sensei type. Far too lax, far too easy going and goofy. But maybe the students need a personality like that. Still, he deserves something where he can really let loose and not lose so much sleep over. (Yes, you have caught wind about his wild sleep schedule that would put most soldiers to shame.)

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, Sensei ,” you tease with a little smirk twitching on your lips as he appears aghast at that address. Just pouting like some petulant child who’s just been denied his favorite snack. “So seriously, since it’s just us, what’s the plan for today? I don’t have much going on, so you better make this worth my time.”

Of course you mean it in jest. You don’t plan to bail on him, not when you’ve already made it a point to yourself that you aren’t going to leave him hanging. Even everyone else has made some remark about how ‘brave’ you’re being just enduring extra time with Gojo, but you don’t view it that way at all. You might be the odd one out here, but thus far you just don’t get it.

The big deal, you mean.

He finally speaks up again.

“Come on, seriously? I’m going to have to beat Gojo or Sensei out of your system. You’re a student in a way, sure, but like I just told you, you’re not my student, you know?” 

You hide your smirk into your palm. “Whatever you say…”

In spite of himself, he’s smiling at your antics, and that’s really your only goal. Just like he gives everyone else a hard time all on purpose, you’re returning that energy, and the good news is that he doesn’t seem to mind it all that much. That’s progress more than anything, right? Here you are, doing a better job at adjusting to your new environment than you expected to be doing, and he’s honestly made this new life a lot easier for you too–even if he doesn’t know it just yet. 

Actually, why not change that right now? 

“Gojo, I um…” you start a bit tentatively before you break into a fit of giggles again at his melodrama. “Seriously, thank you.”

He raises an eyebrow at that as he adjusts his blindfold. “What for?” 

“Making me feel like part of the group,” you answer, “You work really hard to make sure I don’t feel left behind, and I just appreciate it. That’s all.” 

He looks at you like he’s in a bit of a daze before shaking himself out of his stupor. He probably doesn’t get recognized for his efforts enough; teachers are an underappreciated profession in every aspect of life, it seems like, even in the world of jujutsu.

“It’s kind of, you know, basic human decency and all,” he reasons, but somehow he keeps an even tone with an underlying layer of playfulness. “Plus that’s kind of my job too, or at least part of it.”

”So what?” you challenge him, but you don’t mean to in a negative way. “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be recognized for something like that.”

”For doing the bare minimum?” he nearly scoffs at that notion, but you do catch him smiling a little, which is the goal here. “All right, whatever you say, Princess.”

”Princess?” you repeat, your lips curling into a little bit of a pout. This time it’s you raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t realize I gave off that vibe.”

”A vibe of…?” he beckons you to finish that statement for him.

”Spoiled rotten?” you try to fill in the blanks with the first thing that pops in your mind and he once again looks aghast that that is the first thing you would even consider! “Bratty? Mean?” 

”No! You don’t act like that at all,” he counters, a hand over his heart as you feel his eyes scanning you through his blindfold. “You give Pretty Princess vibes, though.”

”Pretty Princess, huh?” Is he just trying to flatter you or wiggle his way out of something else? 

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “You’re pretty. I thought you’re aware of that fact.”

”Am I?” Your gaze flits to your feet as they shift, his words settling in. He does sound genuine. You have to admit—you don’t get called that often, or at all as far as you remember.

”You are,” he insists, poking your cheek, brushing the tip of his finger along your skin. “You should really believe that a little more, you know? Being humble is so out these days.”

”Of course Satoru Gojo would say something like that,” you snark back with a roll of your eyes. “But that is sweet.”

”Well yeah, I’m Satoru fucking Gojo, and what I say is definitely law,” he retorts with a playful smile twitching on his lips again. 

“Weren’t we supposed to be doing something?” you remind him after a beat of silence, and Gojo hums in thought after he mulls over what you might have meant by that. 

“If you want, I could help you train today. Ijichi’s working with Itadori and Nanami right now with something…” he trails off, “Unless you’d rather do something fun instead, like I could show you some of my favorite places with all of the best sweets in the world!”

”I think we should train first, Sensei ,” you reply, “I’ve been slacking and I want to make sure I can make my veils actually last long enough.”

”Oh for fuck’s sake, I told you—I’m not your Sensei at least.”

”Uh huh,” you quip, “But you know what, you’re right, you’re not my Sensei because people might assume you’re trying to fraternize with a student because you just admitted you think I’m pretty.”

”Or I was just merely making an obvious statement,” he insists, “You just happen to have a hard time believing that you are with the way you carry yourself. Easy to tell when someone doesn’t know who they are or what they want, you know?” 

“Oh, and I suppose then that means you’re an expert at that kind of thing?” you probe while batting your eyelashes. 

Gojo nods, “Of course! That’s my whole role in society after all.” 

 “Is it?” You scoot in closer to him, ignoring the way your heart is racing beneath your breasts as your nose barely brushes against his. His Infinity is down with you, and his skin does feel so soft just from that. “Then enlighten me, Gojo. Is this going to help me perfect my cursed technique if I have a better sense of identity or of my desires in life?” 

“Well yeah,” Gojo starts, but you do catch him faltering slightly, likely from the sudden proximity. “I mean, knowing who you are and what sets you off is a major key in harnessing your cursed energy. I mean, cursed energy is all about keeping your emotions in check. Cursed energy is primarily negative energy so learning how to channel that energy into something against a spirit is important. And you know, low self esteem counts as negativity and that can cause curses to spawn. I mean, didn’t you hear about Okkatsu and how he cursed a normal girl because he didn’t want her to die? Curses can come from both sorcerers and non sorcerers. Until Okkatsu, all we knew was that curse spirits are often a manifestation of non sorcerer cursed energy…”

You nod along as he rambles on. “Uh huh. So how does someone go about managing their negative feelings then?”

“Well, I remember helping Itadori out by having him watch a bunch of terribly boring or annoying movies,” he explains as taps his finger against his chin. “We could do that but I think you need something a little more advanced than that. Like I mean you already seem to have a good handle on your emotions since you’re spending all of this time with me and you seem more charmed than irked by my presence.”

”Why would I be irked by your presence?” you interject, “I didn’t give off that vibe to you, did I?” 

“I may be the world’s strongest sorcerer but that doesn’t earn me brownie points in popularity,” he admits, but he’s acting like it doesn’t affect him when it likely definitely does. “Even Megumi gets easily ticked off at me and I’m raising the kid.” 

You huff at that. “I mean, you know what they say, Gojo. You could be the juiciest peach, and there’ll still be someone who doesn’t like peaches. So who cares!” 

”And Megumi definitely doesn’t like peaches,” he snorts with a shake of his head.

”Oh, please. Don’t say that!” you retort with a playful shove to his shoulder. “He adores you. Kind of like how he behaves like he’s annoyed by Itadori all the time but he didn’t want him to die for a reason.”

“A fair point, m’lady.” 

“First Princess, and now m’lady?” you tease, “Come on, this is getting ridiculous.”

“Alright, alright!” Gojo surrenders while clasping his hands together.  “Okay, so are we training or what?”

“Of course,” you reply, “Just tell me where we can start and then as a reward for staying consistent, we can go grab all of those sweets you keep talking to me about, because now I can’t stop thinking about them.”

Gojo laughs, “Deal.”

It’s not outright obvious to anyone or even you at first, but Gojo has been tagging along with you wherever you went like an over excited little puppy dog. He behaves more like your guard dog in much more public areas though. You don’t mind his constant shadow at first, thinking it as a nice refreshing change of pace after spending most of your time in solitude. It can either be comforting or it can be suffocating. But you don’t find Gojo suffocating, not like how everyone else seems to. 

And maybe he has taken that to heart, which is another thing about him you don’t find yourself minding. Clearly, he just hasn’t been used to someone actually actively wanting to be around him after who knows how long since you waltzed into Satoru Gojo’s world and maybe a part of you finds it flattering that he enjoys your company so much. 

“Hey,” Gojo stops you while you’re strolling side by side down a street with many jewelry, makeup, or designer clothing stores down the strip. “Didn’t you say you needed to restock on some makeup?”

A record breaks in your mind. Say what now? He actually listens to your mindless ramblings? Why are you so shocked every time someone pays attention to you, especially someone as esteemed as Satoru Gojo? Moreover, why are you still gawking at him like he’s just sprouted three extra heads? 

You blink once at him. Then twice. You glance up at the store he’s stopped you for and your breath hitches. A Sephora, huh? Is he sure about this? What is he even thinking about, splurging so much money on you like it’s not a big deal to him? Your eyes scan the rows upon rows of various brands you have only watched Youtube influencers review and can only dream of owning yourself. The Dior row is especially calling out to you like a siren in the Dead Sea. 

This is so dangerous… you pout, gaze flitting between Gojo and the entrance to the store. Your gaze lingers on the Dior aisle once more. You long for some of those lip oils. Or their blushes even if a lot of influencers have admitted they suck for their price points… 

“Yeah, but…” you trail off, frowning as you peek through the windows, fearing for the total costs if you actually do follow up on his offer. “Their stuff is usually out of my budget.”

A brief silence stretches over the two of you. You’re about to turn but he stops you, grabbing your wrist, and you glance up at him through your lashes. 

“Don’t sweat it. I got it,” he offers with a small smirk, pushing the door open for you and your feet stop you just short of entering the store. 

“Seriously,”—he places an arm on your shoulder—“I got it.”

“I can’t pay you back,” you reply, biting on your lip. 

“You don’t have to. Come on,” he declares as he grabs your wrist, yanking you inside. The dozens of stares falling on the two of you make your heart flutter but it’s probably not you they’re really paying attention to. In fact you’re absolutely positive it’s probably because of Gojo. He’s a show stopper in a lot of ways. Maybe they’re gawking at how tall or handsome he is, how shock snow white his hair is. Wondering what shade his eyes are beneath his blindfold that he wears all the time. 

Wondering what he’s doing with a puny little thing like you in a cosmetics store. Maybe they’re all wondering if you’re a couple and he’s just your sweet patient boyfriend humoring your love for cosmetics. 

As if you can ever be with someone as untouchable as Satoru Gojo. You can only dream of being with someone like him, someone so otherworldly and ethereal and practically regarded as some kind of Messiah. 

Gojo stands close to you, and you observe him. It’s hard to figure out what anyone’s thinking without seeing their eyes. You wonder how his Six Eyes must be unbearable for him a lot of the time that he has to wear a blindfold. 

As if he senses you staring, he peels his blindfold back and hums as if lost in thought. 

“I think you talked about loving lipstick the most, right? What brand do you like to wear? Gucci? YSL?” he inquires idly while lifting his blindfold; he scans the aisles before walking toward one of the more expensive luxury brands you can never hope to afford a first time around already. You grab his elbow and stop him in place, and he peers down at you, those blue eyes appearing to admit a kind of glow. 

“I can’t afford to wear any of those!” you protest, flabbergasted, “Can we just stick to the mid-range priced items? You really don’t have to buy me anything!”

“You can now! So name the brand and we’ll look at it, yeah?” he retaliates with a goofy grin that is convincing enough to let him win you entirely over. This is not something you can easily accept from anyone! Not even him! Especially not him! It feels all kinds of wrong to you if you can’t return the favor in any way and you know you can’t. He knows you can’t either and he’s doing this anyway all because he wants to. There is no hint of obligation or feeling like he has to repay you for spending so much time with him.

You almost want to shrivel up and die in that very moment, but he’s being kind of pushy and you don’t really know why. It’s not like you can’t go get makeup at some affordable drugstore, and he can just pay for those, something you can easily return the favor for with enough time. 

You’re not all that picky. And you know one taste of luxury is going to have you hooked for life . There’s no going back. 

Although, like you have been fantasizing about already, you have been dying for anything from Tom Ford or YSL or Dior… 

You drag out a sigh as you weigh out your options. 

“You’re not going to let me get out of here until I let you buy me things, aren’t you?” you inquire in a flat tone. 

Gojo’s still grinning ridiculously and you kind of hate how cute he looks getting all giddy at the prospect of spoiling a friend just because. 

“Now you’re getting it! So seriously, what are we feeling?” he asks again, that stupid grin of his unmoving. 

Yet you find it more endearing than annoying like everyone else seems to… 

“Slow down,” you reply. He relaxes his grip on your wrist and you release it. You don’t miss that unreadable expression flashing in a nanosecond. “There have been some shades I’ve been needing. But we are not going overboard here. Do you understand?”

“Yes ma’am,” he answers almost robotically with a mock salute. You fight the urge to roll your eyes. 

You lead him to one of the Dior aisles where a classic red lip shade catches your eye. You have two defaults, and you don’t need too much makeup: a flattering red lip for an occasion and a flattering nude shade for everyday is really all you’re going to need in this department. Then you know you need the rest—new foundation, new concealer, mascara, etc. etc. 

And since Gojo is being so pushy you may as well take advantage of the opportunity. Even if does feel all kinds of wrong in your soul you know he’s not letting you get off that easily. So you decide to reframe it this way: you’re really only allowing this because Gojo’s resolve about this isn’t going to budge. 

“Oh! This shade is gorgeous,” you muse out loud as you pry one of the tester red lipsticks and grab one of the free lip applicators to test the color on your lips. You glance around for a mirror and find one just down the aisle, pouting your lips into it as you assess the shade you chose. You hum in thought. 

Then you turn to Gojo, who’s keeping a fair distance but watching your every move. 

“Do you like it?” you inquire, pointing to the shade painting your lips.

“It’s nice,” he replies, “Totally evens out, um, your complexion!”

You giggle into your hand. He’s trying , which is better than most men who have ever walked into your life. Most of them think makeup is fake or stupid or pointless or just plain lying. Then in the same breath claim they like a natural girl but most of them don’t understand what a natural girl looks like. 

Gojo seems a smidge less ignorant about that kind of thing though. Just a smidge. 

“C’mere,” you declare as you gesture with a come hither motion. He obliges, and you have to prop yourself up on your tippy toes just to reach his cheek, where you smack your lips against. A bold move, perhaps, but he deserves it for all of this generosity he apparently isn’t known for at all amongst his colleagues. 

“How ‘bout now?” you ask with a sultry purr, fluttering your lashes. Which both definitely feel naked. You love mascara. They definitely need a good mascara… something both lengthening and volumizing, perhaps? You haven’t been exploring much in that regard…  

“It’s perfect ,” he purrs smoothly, not skipping a beat. He doesn’t even bother wiping off the stain and it’s not like you two are an item or something. You just want to give something back. “Aren’t you going to try more shades?”

You deflate, flushing a little at that as you twiddle your fingers. Oh, he sounds a little too interested now. Should you back off? 

You pull back. Absently you run your tongue around your teeth as you eye your reflection. Oh wow, this shade kind of makes your teeth look way whiter so you’re definitely snagging it. This really is so dangerous and it’s not fair hat Gojo is making you go through with committing such a sin. Grabbing a basket and tossing the tube of lipstick into it while swiping a makeup remover wipe from a nearby dispenser and cleaning the color off. Gojo snags the basket out of your hands. 

“Hey!” you protest again with another pout of your lips. There’s some blotches of leftover lipstick you missed but Gojo can’t help but find it cute. Almost a complete idea of what those pretty lips of yours might look like when he’s the one kissing the color off and not some damn makeup remover. 

“I got it,” he insists, keeping the shopping basket just out of your reach. “You enjoy more shopping, alright?”

Your eyes begin to twinkle and you don’t notice that Gojo’s heart must have skipped a beat in that moment. 

“Can we window shop at the designer stores here too?” you beg him eagerly, eyes sparkling like a child winning a plush toy in a claw machine.

“Yeah,” he breathes in reply, composing himself. “Anything.”

You’re not paying attention to him now as you’re already sprinting to check out the mascaras you’ve seen online and can only dream of owning yourself. This is already more power you can ever hope to have!

You snag the one you hear is best for your kind of lashes. 

But you find yourself scattering around all of the aisles but don’t buy that many things out of common decency. Even if someone like Gojo comes from a lot of money, it isn’t right. You just can’t help it though. He’s given you a taste already and you wish you could buy with your own money but that’s not a reality for you. You are going to allow yourself to indulge just this one time and then never again. As nice of a gesture it is from Gojo, you have not been raised a leech, and you’re not going to take advantage of someone’s generosity like that. So you give yourself an item limit but that doesn’t stop you from trying all of the samples of makeup and swatching the colors, asking for Gojo’s opinions and he tries to seem interested which is the nicest thing he could do for you.

All while you’re browsing, Gojo hangs back just to observe you. Admiring how lost you get in such a simple hobby to him and probably to everyone else. 

You just don’t realize how much he is truly paying attention to you. How much he wants to know more and more about you. Your likes. Your dislikes. What makes your eyes keep shining like that like they are here. 

Snapping discrete photos of the things you eye with longing but don’t toss into the basket for future reference. 

You test another lipstick shade in another brand aisle, then test it on Gojo’s cheek like you did before. A classic nude shade is something every girl needs, you tell him, and that’s all for the lipsticks. 

Once you grab all of your essentials you don’t even dare to so much glance at the receipt and neither does Gojo. Tossing it into the trash as soon as you both walk out. 

“So you don’t try to return anything out of guilt,” he explains with a little wink. “So, you still want to check out those designer stores?”

“Yes! Can we go to Chanel?” You clasp your hands together, doing your best to contain the fact that you may be a little too excited.

“Of course,” Gojo replies easily once again, “Anything.”

“I’m not buying anything! I just want to look,” you remind him as your hands rest on your hips, chin slightly raised. “You got me enough.”

You gesture to the bag he’s clutching with that huge hand of his, you can’t help but point out to yourself. And dang, you never have noticed before how long his fingers actually are… 

He follows your gaze, before glancing back at you and you catch onto what is a bit of a judgy stare in that he’s such a fucking nepo baby way. 

“There’s not even 10 items in here!” he argues with a fret. 

“Yeah but you forget my budget isn’t usually made for these items. You got me enough. Way more than enough,” you assure him, “Trust me. Let it go, Gojo. I let you buy me stuff already.”

“Fine, fine, waving the little white flag,” he quips while wagging a finger. “Now come on, we still have a whole day since that mission was cut short for us and the students.” 

“Alright, alright. Bossy,” you tease while flashing him a little smile and then planting another kiss on his cheek. Where this time he leans in completely prepared for. “Thank you, Gojo. You really didn’t have to. But this isn’t happening again.”

“Fine,” he relents, sagging his shoulders; he’s saying so to your face at least. You don’t know what he’s plotting behind that blindfold. But you choose to take his words at face value to spare him some dignity. 

You beam at him again, grabbing his free hand and leading him to the closest designer store. The same cycle continues. Your eyes twinkle like brilliant little galaxies upon the endless choices but you know you can’t really have them and you emphasized to Gojo again as you waltzed into the store together that you won’t let him buy anything more for you. 

But you still let yourself loose! Putting on a little fashion show for him. You grab an item you wish you could have for yourself. This piece feels vintage and soft, delicately crafted and sophisticated like everything else in these stores. You strike a few poses in front of a tall mirror and Gojo just watches idly on the sidelines as you enjoy yourself. Sometimes still capturing little snippets of you unguarded and you haven’t the slightest clue as you’re living out what you can only define as your dream life. These might make beautiful candids in his office or somewhere more private in his estate, but you have no idea he’s thinking that right then. You’re too busy having the time of your life. Grinning madly like you’re alight and carefree and you look absolutely stunning. 

And you don’t know that it’s absolutely killing him . It’s maddening, how well you flaunt yourself like this, like you’re dangling yourself in front of him, all his for the taking. 

You don’t know how he wants to bend you over and blow your back out in the middle of this fucking store, in the middle of the mall, in the back parking lot, or the parking deck. Anywhere. Everywhere. But you’re not his yet, but you’re dangling yourself in front of him like a tempting sin and he can’t take it. 

Not his mind, his body, his heart, his soul, and definitely not his aching cock straining through his boxers. 

It doesn’t seem like you notice either as you stride up to him, stars in your eyes as you show him another bag before putting it back. 

“Are we going to the other stores? Are you getting bored?” you ask, looking very much like you’re bouncing off the walls. Much like him when he’s consumed way too much sugar. 

“Of course. Anything,” he replies immediately repeating the same damn line but not before glancing away. “I have to take a quick trip to the washroom first. Do you want to grab a bite to eat too?”

You nod, following him out. You take the bag he was holding and wait for him by the restrooms. 

Thank God, you’re out of his line of sight for the moment. And the stalls are empty. Doubly thank God . No one has to watch someone as esteemed as Satoru Goio (not that the mortal world would know anything at all about someone like him) fist a few just because he can’t control himself. What is he, some kind of hormonal schoolboy? What the fuck! He’s got more class than this! 

Resorting to something like this… 

It’s unbecoming. So very unbecoming of a man known to be the strongest in this physical and metaphysical world. 

He can be quiet about all of this, even still. He just… 

He just needs to take care of this before he loses his fucking mind and takes you for himself. 

(Maybe he might have already been plotting how to do that. To shield you from a world who only looks at you one way and no other way.)

On some occasions, Shoko joins you and Gojo when he wants a little company. Shoko has said before that she considers him dear even if she playfully declares he’s trash like any other man. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t make time for him, though. Especially when there’s alcohol involved and she doesn’t have to worry about paying those ridiculously expensive tabs. 

You have gotten used to going out with them on work nights (which is honestly every night with Gojo, at least), and you have come to realize his expectations each time. This time you have gotten some pointers on how to make yourself a bit more put together with these transitions from Shoko and you can’t be more grateful. You haven’t delved into the world of beauty all that much before this, mostly because you’ve had no reason to and you only stuck to the bare basics, but now you have a bit more of a social life than you once had. 

And maybe you want to catch Gojo’s eye in another way and not just in terms of your potential as a sorcerer. 

You glance over your shoulder, frowning as you take note that Gojo has yet to pop out into the front schoolyard where you planned to meet together before driving off. The nighttime air is crisp but a bit nippy; you’re scrunching your nose each time you feel a feathery light gust of wind tickle your face, and the thick layer of foundation you beat all over your face to death with a beauty sponge isn’t doing you many favors in the world of uncomfortable sensory feelings. A part of you wants to claw your face off because you’re not used to full glam looks, even if this is a softer glam look. You prefer the light every day getup, ‘no makeup makeup’ or whatever these trendy girls call it, you wish you were as cool and trendy as they are but you feel like you fall behind on what’s cool all the time. 

You twist back around while admiring Shoko with stars in your eyes. God, you have so much inner work to do yourself! She seems to know everything about how to bring out your best self and she embodies an absolute goddess in your eyes. She’s an ethereal presence. Her chestnut brown hair flowing down to her buttocks, her slim figure and her heart shaped face are all downright enviable. She can have anyone she wants, and she probably knows it too. 

Man, what you’d give for confidence like hers. Gojo does have a point from before–a negative self image is no good and can interfere with your progress as a sorcerer yourself. Even if you’re not all that interested in power scaling, you still want to be able to protect the students and yourself when the situation calls for it. 

Shoko calls your name, and you snap back to reality, blinking owlishly as she lights herself another cigarette to burn through–how many of those has she had in one day already? Is she one of those types to smoke entire packs within a night or a whole 24 hours? It’s not like they’re actually going to kill her or anything from what you understand about reverse cursed technique, but that doesn’t mean destroying your body over and over just for the shits and giggles. 

“Why do you go hang out with Gojo without another thought?” Shoko asks you out of the blue as you grow increasingly impatient waiting for Gojo to get here–he’s probably working on wrapping up some things for future missions this week or something–and you purse your lips as you shrug off her question. 

“Everyone needs a friend,” you decide is your simple response. Shoko stares blankly at you but you remain firm in your answer. You don’t believe it needs any further elaboration. And technically, it really shouldn’t. You’re just not that kind of girl. The kind to just take advantage of someone just because you can get away with it. There’s nothing “in it” for you at all. Stripping away all of your layers, you’re truly just a simple girl at your core. 

But for some reason, Shoko doesn’t buy that answer right away. 

“Really? Are you absolutely sure about that? Is there something in it for you?” she prods, and of course you’re right on the money of her being unsure, but her tone isn’t accusatory or anything—she’s just trying to seek an understanding of your motives and truthfully you have none. Nothing outright malicious or self-motivating, anyway, like she likely suspects. “Don’t get me wrong. Satoru’s a dear friend of mine but he usually bribes me with drinks or the nicer cigarettes when I’m not particularly interested in doing something with him involved.”

“No,” you declare, once again, with full confidence, swiping a pocket mirror from your clutch and pouting your lips, touching up on your lipstick which has already smudged off a bit. It’s a nude shade that complements your features; you’re still a student when it comes to these things but the tips Shoko has offered you for a more “office appropriate” look has helped plenty. Besides, Gojo has bought you all of those nice luxury brands that are typically so out of your budget; why not put them to daily use like you should so they don’t go to waste and expire because you’re too afraid to use such nice things? 

You recall all of those suggestions of hers—a medium-buildable coverage skin tint, a natural, luminary blush, two mascaras that separate, lengthen, thicken, and hold your curls without getting too clumpy or smudge throughout the day. All put together with a soft glam eye shadow look. It’s perfect. The girl’s a fucking genius at this stuff. 

“Then why?” Shoko prods again, a little too insistently. You wonder why the fuss. Just like she must wonder why the fuss! Is Gojo that bad of a person to be around because you genuinely haven’t gotten that vibe? If anything else, he’s become a comfort to you. You have been kind of used to being alone too. It doesn’t feel as sad as it sounds, not like how it must feel for Gojo. 

You try not to seem a little dejected by the fact that Shoko is suspicious of you. It’s not like she knows you well, though… 

“Because it’s like I just said, everyone needs a friend! The kind of friend who doesn’t want anything from them in return, or at least doesn’t expect it,” you continue to her after stashing the tube of lipstick and pocket mirror back into the Chanel clutch you still are absolutely positive Gojo sent you after your last outing together. “He just, I don’t know. He seems kind of… I don’t know. Alone. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“We hardly have the time for our own struggles,” Shoko remarks, turning away with a wistful expression. “Why do you think I smoke so much?”

“Maybe that’s the problem with all of you guys,” you point out, not meaning to try to read people to filth here or anything like that as you’re fluffing your hair a little bit. You’re just starting to see a pattern. Ugh, these fucking flyaways! How does Shoko’s hair always look so perfect even in these conditions? That’s something else to ask advice about from her later… “You guys are too caught up in your own lives to notice what’s going on right in front of you. I’m not saying that to call anyone out; it’s just the way everyone’s wired, anyway. Human nature and stuff. We are too busy worrying about ourselves to worry about everyone else all the time. if we did that then we can’t live our damned lives, and that just can’t do. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to remind the people in your life that you care about them.”

Shoko frowns in response to that, burning through her current cigarette which is already halfway gone. Bits of ashes drop unceremoniously to the ground as she puffs out some smoke, mulling over your words, and something flashes in her eyes, like she’s flipping channels of so many memories in her mind but for some reason you doubt it involves Gojo and probably some other people she considers close to her.

“That’s a fair point, I guess,” she grunts, her eyes flashing again with something–something like grief or regret ? Over what? Do you pry or just keep it to yourself? 

“Is there something I’m missing about Gojo?” you finally demand of her, your tone thick with curiosity as ever like you’re trying to debug some kind of code. “You guys all keep rambling on about how he’s this peculiar character and yeah, I’m not denying it but what sorcerer isn’t a little crazy? Don’t you have to be in a profession like this, one where the majority of the population would write off as utter hocus pocus?” 

Shoko processes more of your rapid fire questions before shrugging, taking another shot at her cancer stick between her fingers which is nearly gone now. She burns through those like Gojo burns through all those sugary foods he ingests practically every second of every day.

“Spend more time with him and find out,” Shoko answers, probably more flippantly than she intends to sound, flicking more ash off of her cigarette as a wry smile plays on those juicily glossed lips of hers. You almost want to pout at how she seems to have everything figured out for herself–from the way she carries herself to the way she shows up for herself too. Dark sultry eye makeup with a flawless makeup base and when she decks herself out, she decks herself out . You can’t recognize her sometimes outside of work when she’s having too much fun cutting up dead bodies and putting together autopsies or beautifying dead bodies or whatever else she does as a healer  “It’s never a dull moment. Love the guy to death, but even I have my limits with him.”

“No one is easy to be around,” you admonish with a sigh. “Not even me. I know my shortcomings or at least the ones I’ve been made aware of thus far. With that kind of logic, you won’t have anyone around you.”

“That’s…also a fair point,” Shoko acknowledges with a nod, more bits of ashes dropping to the concrete below. “I guess I might have some reflecting to do. But you know, I have noticed Gojo becoming a little more relaxed these days. You’re probably why.”

“Oh, come on,” you giggle, hinting at a bit of uncertainty. “I’m just little old me.”

“And that might be someone Gojo needs,” she adds with a little wink, before her gaze flits to your purse. “You still haven’t made a guess on who’s been sending you these expensive gifts? Who else do you know likes to spend money without any regard for how much it is?”

You follow her gaze to the purse before shaking your head in response. 

“Well of course I know it’s Gojo,” you admit bashfully as you ponder her other words. Gojo is a perfectly capable man who doesn’t rely on anyone. Surely he doesn’t need someone like you around, right? “No one else around here is made of money like he is. And I doubt someone like Gojo needs someone like me.”

“How can you be so sure?” she teases in a singsong tone. “I’m just saying—he clearly doesn’t hide the fact, either.”

You don’t really know how to respond or react to that. You aren’t going to deny it, not really. Gojo has been a lot more attentive with you than anyone else, and he’s known Shoko since they went to high school right here at Jujutsu Tech together. She has to know so much more about him than even she cares to know about Satoru Gojo and maybe there’s a part of you that wants to badger her for all of the information she might have on him for… reasons .

Hm. Maybe there is something in it for you, but you expect absolutely nothing regardless. You don’t want to be like those people who try to be someone’s friend just to get with them. That’s not really being someone’s friend. That’s being a total weirdo and no one wants to be that guy.

“I should say I also commend you for a character like yours,” Shoko admits after a moment of reflection–maybe she does have to check in with herself too more than you realize. There must be a lot she’s hiding from everyone too. “We don’t see authenticity like that around here these days so it’s probably a breath of fresh air for Satoru too.”

“I hope you’re not insinuating what I think you are, Miss Ie—I mean, Shoko,” you stammer as a blush rushes to your cheeks. 

“I’m not insinuating anything,” she teases, pinching your cheek. “But it has been a while since Satoru has acted like this. Not since…” She holds off on finishing that thought, which again piques your interest but you don’t poke and prod the bear with the stick, and instead she settles with: “Yeah, not since a while.”

Your forehead wrinkles a bit as you ponder her words. 

Now you’re only left in the dark much more than you already have been in the world of jujutsu sorcerers. You are still a fledgling yourself, yet right off the bat Gojo determines you should be bumped up to grade 2. Not only that but you learn that Satoru Gojo is something like a quasi-religious figure around here, possessing both the Limitless and Six Eyes cursed techniques which hasn’t been a thing for centuries, apparently. He’s the strongest special grade out there to exist, but he has admitted to you and to the higher ups that there are going to be many who surpass the special grade rank and by extension may surpass him. He expects that of Itadori, Fushiguro, and Okkatsu, in particular, but he hopes for that for the future generations as a whole. 

Still, these don’t really fill in many blanks for you. You don’t understand why everyone’s got their reservations over Gojo; if anything, he’s so arrogant and haughty because he can back up his claims and that must grind everyone’s gears. To a certain extent you can understand the frustration everyone has with him, but that can’t be all there is to it. Then again, you have only been on Jujutsu Tech grounds for what, five months or something like that now, tops? You still have so much to see in how he interacts with the others. Other superiors, other colleagues, but with his students, they seem to enjoy his company… (well, at least Itadori seems to; the second years have a few choice words on how to describe him.)

“Did I leave you ladies waiting?” you hear a voice call out to the two of you. 

Your head snaps up to find Gojo carrying dozens of bags hooked around all of his slender fingers. You can’t help but giggle at the sight because it reminds you of the times you did the same thing to spare you another trip to the trunk with all of your purchases. 

“What’s all this?” you question with a smile. Gojo pauses before answering, as if a little taken aback by a change in you. Probably he’s noticed you put a little more effort to look more business appropriate, actually with a full face of (hopefully passable) makeup… 

“You look lovely, I-I mean, as always, of course,” he coughs before he sets all of the bags aside. “And ah, I just tend to splurge a little. Stuff for the school, stuff for the students, stuff for me…” 

“That’s sweet of you,” you comment before you cradle the Chanel clutch in both your hands and present it to him. “So does this mean you actually are the one responsible for this?”

Gojo’s face falls for a split second before bouncing back. “Did you not like the color choice? I still have the receipt and I can change it o—!”

—You raise your hand to cut him off. 

“I only started using these because I have no idea if I should return these to you, but now I do,” you interject with a little chuckle. “If this is your way to thank me for hanging out with you all of those times, I don’t need an incentive for it, Gojo. I’m happy to hang out with you because we’re friends, aren’t we?”

Gojo beams at that. “Of course we are! Just, you know! Don’t worry about the gifts. Use ‘em or don’t—I just like giving gifts, and um, you deserve them, and stuff.”

“And stuff?” Shoko quips, shooting Gojo a look with a little wraggle of those perfectly groomed eyebrows of hers. Gods you’re so jealous of her effortless beauty. “Real suave, Satoru.”

“Like you know how to charm a girl’s pants off,” Satoru shoots back. 

“I think we know who gets more pussy between the two of us,” Shoko deadpans.

You can’t help snorting at that. Why do people find this guy so off-putting? It honestly seems like he tries really hard to bring some light into the situation since life as a sorcerer is far from peaceful. If he finds you refreshing, then you find his character just as refreshing right back. 

“Girl, yes, show ‘em,” you cackle into your hand. Shoko grins at your words of encouragement and Gojo’s posture slumps at that. 

“No more expensive alcohol for you,” he huffs like an insolent toddler, folding his arms over his chest. Shoko doesn’t seem all that bothered, shrugging him off. 

“I’ve been meaning to swear off that stuff anyway.” At some point between all of the silly banter she’s tossed the butt of her cigarette away and admits that she’s finished another pack. 

“God, you really have to nip that nasty habit in the bud,” Gojo suggests with a sly little grin and a cock of his head. Shoko rolls her eyes. 

“Cry me a river. We all have our thing. Mine’s smoking. Yours is sweets. One step at a time or whatever,” she answers, brushing her hair behind her shoulder. “Are you two ready to go?”

“Where do you plan to keep all of those bags?” you query, and Gojo’s eyebrows flash. 

“I’ll take care of it,” he replies after considering your question. “Let me do that real quick, actually.”

Gojo strolls off with those items and returns just moments later with a thumbs up. Shoko has a look on her face that you almost want to call her out on but you decide to hold your tongue for the time being. You tap your foot on the earth beneath you as Gojo shuffles back to the two of you after storing away all of those various ‘goods’ he’s stocked up on that you can’t help but be a little curious about. Gojo tosses you a little grin and you find yourself grinning back, and as soon as that happens you can feel Shoko’s scrutiny seep deeper and deeper into your soul and you are absolutely tempted to call her out on it until Gojo speaks up.

“Okay, now I’m ready to go!” Gojo announces, his gaze fixing on you, which Shoko definitely takes into account as she’s still assessing you with that fucking look in her eyes that says ‘ nothing in it for you, huh? ’  “I was just kidding about the no expensive alcohol part, Shoko.”

“I figured,” Shoko chuckles, “Now stop eye fucking her and let’s go.”

You hide your face as it reddens an even darker shade, if that’s even possible at thai point.

“I-I was not!” Gojo blubbers and Shoko cackles back at his face as his posture slumps a bit again. Even if you're suppressing the urge to bust up laughing at his reaction, mostly because you do not expect it, acting like he’s been caught red handed doing something completely unforgivable. 

“Uh-huh,” Shoko scoffs as she saunters off with the two of you following close behind her. 

You catch Gojo sneaking a few glances at you. You don’t seem to mind that at all and are actually feeling your heart soar to the heavens. But you notice something else. Him inching a pinky toward yours. You try to bite back a little hint of a grin but fail, so you initiate, curling yours around his and you can hear the faintest sound of a contented sigh escape his lips. 

Shoko’s back is still to the both of you, her hips flouncing as she walks like she has no care for the world what the two of you do. You hope you’re not giving her the impression that she’s the third wheel because it’s not like the two of you are together or anything like that. As far as you know. You have already written off the possibility of you and Gojo ever being a thing. He’s so far out of your reach but he seems happy being all touchy with you like he is your boyfriend and for some reason you don’t have an issue with that. 

Well of course you don’t have an issue with that. This is the closest you’re ever going to get, and that’s perfectly all fine and good with you. Besides, you have reminded yourself that you’re not in it for yourself. Gojo is happy to have found some kind of comfort in you, and that’s your goal. 

“Sheesh, Shoko’s too eager to get absolutely shitfaced on all that beer,” Gojo leans in and whispers into your ear. “But she has the strongest alcohol tolerance I have ever seen. Reverse cursed technique is pretty dang awesome once you get the hang of it, but it’s easier said than done. Took me forever to figure out how to use it.”

”Are you gossiping about me back there, Satoru?” Shoko accuses as she tosses her head over her shoulder. 

“No ma’am,” he vows, “Just giving her the 411 on your drinking abilities.”

”So you’re admitting to gossiping, you useless shitstain,” Shoko snorts but she doesn’t seem to take it that seriously. You still aren’t sure what the dynamic is between them, but they do seem closer than everyone else here. 

“Oops!” Gojo hollers back at her with a little snicker. “Keep walking those thick ass fucking thighs of yours so we can get to our ride, pissface.”

”Oh, that’s a new one! And you wish you had these thighs, fuckface!” Shoko shouts with her tone laced in sarcasm as they approach the parking deck. She refuses to allow Gojo to ‘warp’ them everywhere. You have yet to experience what that’s like. Having cursed techniques like Gojo’s must come with so many perks like getting to mimic flying and shit. You still are not sure what you can do with your techniques.

Now you’re practically in stitches at their exchanges. They’re riots around each other. Shoko’s not kidding about there never being a dull moment, but why does she say so with it laced with some negative connotations? There must be something you’re missing in this picture but you’re not putting two and two together. All you know is that you enjoy Gojo’s company and Gojo enjoys your company just as much, and just because everyone else keeps their distance doesn’t mean that you have to because you don’t find Gojo burdensome like everyone around you seems to. Maybe there’s something there, something where you have yet to scratch the surface and unravel, but who the hell knows? 

As you follow Shoko, you don’t miss Gojo’s hand grazing your pinky now dropping to rest on the small of your back. You peer up at him with curiosity twinkling in your stare; what’s going on in his mind? Why’s he–? Suddenly that sharp prickle of goosebumps scatter across your arms as you catch onto some men staring you down around the block. 

Your eyes flit to different areas of the street ahead once you exit Jujutsu Tech grounds; is he trying to make a statement, or something? 

“Gojo?” you mutter, as you attempt to shy away from his touch. “No one’s going to try anything, you know?”

His mouth twitches as he glances down at you, slipping his hand away and allowing it to fall back to its side. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles back, “You never know with men , you know? You can trust me on that one.”

Should you have paid closer attention you may have caught onto the fact that he might be calling himself out there. But you shrug off his behavior as you finally approach where Shoko parked her sedan in one of the parking garages, but Gojo’s still on high alert, scouting any potential threats like you’re easy prey or something.

You just give him one final curious glance before hopping into the backseat, Gojo deciding to join you back there. Shoko starts her car and pulls out of the parking area, not before making some quip to Gojo about something you have no context over, and neither bother to fill you in on the topic. It’s probably not something that concerns you anyway; you’re going to focus on a night out with your friends.

And they are your friends. You’re glad Shoko considers you as one, and that Gojo thinks of you as one. Even if it is still way too intimate to call him Satoru for some reason no matter how much he insists you absolutely can call him that. You really are adjusting to life here a little better than you think, and while the progress may be gradual, you have a feeling it’s just going to get better for you from here.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

(since there was a collab ask recently) so if Twisted Wonderland likely wouldn't collaborate with anything that's not under the Disney company label, does that potentially stop them from having their content in other games?? Mostly asking cos I saw that Identity V had "disney villains" as a relevant option for crossovers, which means they can get disney licencing I guess???

But for example, twst won't do anything in their game, but IDV can still run an event with costumes of the twst characters.

Just wanted a second opinion because I don't know much on the patterns of twst's events, especially since it's up to the devs at the end of the day if they want to suddenly change how they do their collabs!

[Referencing this post!]

I'm not exactly sure how game collabs work (especially since we're looking at this from the standpoint of Japanese law, which I'm not acquainted with at all), but I think that having Twst feature in other games is a separate matter from having other games feature in Twst. However, it's unlikely that something like this would only go in one direction; the point of these kinds of agreements is so both games get cross-promotion, not just one of them. If, for example, IDV introduces costumes of Twst characters but Twst has no IDV content in their own game, then IDV might attract new players (ie Twst fans) but Twst itself clearly isn't benefitting as much from the collab--so what's the point of collabing in the first place? I'd like to point out that Disney Villains is considered a separate IP from Twisted Wonderland, even if both belong to Disney or Disney Villains is a strong influence on Twst. I don't think picking Disney Villains in that survey you mentioned would mean it extends to licensing for Twisted Wonderland as well.

So far, Twst has only really collaborated with other Disney properties. For example:

The LINE Disney Tsum Tsum mobile game; this resulted in the Tsumsitter line of cards and three installments of the story event Tsumsted Wonderland. Additionally, the Tsum Tsum game itself featured limited time Tsums of Twst characters and ran Twst-themed missions and events.

Disney films themselves; this resulted in the Lost in the Book story events, which feature the Twst characters actually meeting and interacting with Disney characters from the films. So far, we've met Stitch + Gantu, as well as Jack Skellington + the residents of Halloween Town. A large selling point of these events is nostalgia and attachment that players have to the Disney characters and movies featured.

Disney live-action remake films; this resulted in a few log=in campaigns where players were granted free materials. These periods would typically run close to the release dates of new live action films (such as The Little Mermaid) to serve as promotion for them.

The only other Twst collabs I can think of are outside of the game itself and stretch into other industries. For example, Twst often collabs with jewelry, lifestyle, and clothing brands to make merchandise, They also collab with Disney establishments or other companies to run events such as cafe collabs or special themed menus at preestablished restaurants.

Based on this history, I'd say there's a pretty low chance of Twst collaborating with anything that doesn't already have the Disney name already stamped onto it.

[yanderecookierunkingdom]

HIII ITS ME AGAIN, i’ve got another idea for you, that you make a little drabble about.

so the time line is like before the yan!beasts got corrupted, or like post-corruption or something, reader is a very overpowered cookie but timid and shy in a way, including considerate and kind, they wants to help people they genuinely loves and cares about (including the beasts), therefore this also makes them a people pleaser/push over, so they keep theyre power secretive

after a while, reader started to see a shift in theyre personality and how they started to resent cookies that didn’t have the same power as themselves, and how they are being kinda possessive/obsessive towards reader, and more really unhealthy behaviors, but of course, like the fool they are, reader decided to ignore those red flags, cause it’s better then having literal no one (said by reader)

anyways when days pass, more things start to change, they start becoming more malicious towards other common cookies, how they cause more chaos and other stuff, of course reader is a bit too delusional to care… till the witches/creators came, saying they need to trap them for good, of course you retaliated (verbally), saying how you care for them and other stuff, and you won’t go through with this, and they tell reader something that will really open theyre eyes to the world, pointing out the actions the beasts do and how shitty and bad they are (including some things they say, how they treat reader etc) how bad their intentions truly are, after this reader was really upset about them, they might be delusional but not THAT delusional, so i think you can vison what happened next now, they advise a plan to get them in a place where the witches can trap them, using reader as a bait, then once it’s done, reader left, no matter how many pleads or yells the beasts through at them, reader didn’t turn back, not even to glance at the prison that they brought themselves upon, as reader walked off, they made a vow to themself, a promise to never be fooled and manipulated like that again, to never pretend to be something they aren’t, after that, they became a whole entire different cookie (woahhh character development, anyway imagine them having a more bayonetta like personality/mindset and strength and speed?) maybe a little crossing of paths once the beasts get out of prison

(also i recently just learnt I HAVE MY OWN TAG? idk why it just made me feel special)

You have?? Such?? Good ideas?? Never stop sending in requests, I love all the ideas you always come up with!!

You were a cold Cookie, with no one really knowing why. You hardly trusted and tended to be very suspicious of Cookies of power. To say it took you ages to even think of trusting the Ancients wa an understatement.

You were heavily against the idea of going to Beast-Yeast, yet you eventually relented. Not for yourself, but to make sure that none of them got manipulated like you did.

You were completely ready to throw hands when the Beasts showed up. To stay you were pissed was an understatement. Somehow, they were convinced they were the victims! Because their fun was cut short!

Shadow Milk Cookie is the biggest instigator. He still thinks you're a pushover and portrays you as such, only to be completely confused when he sees you decimate that animatronic. That was.. a change in the script he didn't expect.

Burning Spice Cookie and Silent Salt Cookie are both taken aback by how ready you were to fight them. Guess that shy part of you was gone!

Eternal Sugar Cookie used to lovebomb you a lot whenever you were still shy. She's surprised to see it no longer works, but doesn't mean she still won't try!

Mystic Flour Cookie is the only one who realizes that you're no longer the same pushover. However, it doesn't mean she won't try and use you for her own benefit again.

[yankpop]

Debut

Summary: Your sunbaenim is not as innocent as you thought he was.

DISCLAIMER: This is a FICTION work only made for entertainment purposes that includes yandere/dark. I do not support or encourage any type of abusive behaviour. 

Check more: Masterlist.

Female reader

WARNINGS: Manipulation; Power Imbalance; Toxic Industry (and JK). 

AN: Tommorrow I'm going on a one-week vacations so I won't be able to post anything. Hopefully when I get back I might write some more. Let me know what you guys thought of this!

--

“No?” 

Jungkook repeats after you, pierced brow slightly raising as he looks at you. His leg bounces up and down, shaking the couch he’s sitting on. 

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you understand this…” he starts and you catch his eyes tracing your body up and down.

His stare makes you uncomfortable and you sneakily cross your arms, hoping to protect a bit of the exposed cleavage. 

“I can help you, okay? Actually, we can help each other mutually.”

His words grab your attention and Jungkook smiles at that, rising from the couch and walking up to you. 

“I’ve seen you practice. The way you dance, how you sing… you’ve got a gift. You’re more than ready to debut, trust me.” he inches closer to you, so close that you need to fight off the impulse to take a step back. 

There’s a gut sinking feeling and you press your lips together. 

“You could help me with… something and in return, I’ll pull some strings." Jungkook places his hands on your arms, rubbing the soft skin up and down. "Talk with the managers and the board. Make you debut faster. Wouldn’t you like that?”

He smiles at you and you gulp down, unsure of what to reply. 

You want to cry. 

Is this really happening to you? There had always been lingering rumors about seniors idols taking advantage of the younger ones but you simply never assumed it could happen to you. The spotlight is never your place, so why should it happen to you. You’re not the best dancer nor the most talented singer.

You’d always rank in second or third place in all the competitions and tests, no matter how hard you tried. Someone else always got the first place, all the compliments and the rewards while you remained with the usual “try harder next time” talk.

Not to mention that you’re not the prettiest trainee. Maybe that’s why you still haven’t debuted. 

But this…

“What do you say, baby? It’s mutual benefit for both of us, I swear.” 

Jungkook looks at you expectantly, his perfect face staring at you as your mind runs wild. 

You want to say no. 

“Hum, okay, I guess.” you whisper the words out and Jungkook immediately wraps his arms around your body, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Good girl.” 

When he pulls away, a half-smile is on his face as he glances at your lips. 

“I’m gonna kiss you, okay? It’s no big deal.” 

He doesn’t wait for your answer and quickly closes the gap between you, lips pressing against yours. His metal piercing feels cold and weird as he makes you open your mouth wider, his tongue digging into you. 

A gag gets caught up in your throat when you feel his hand bunching up your ass.

You squeal, pushing him away with tears pricking your eyes. He stumbles back with a stunned face. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Think about debuting, okay?.” he reaches for your face with his hands and despite the need of slapping his hands away, you remain still. 

“Think about how proud your parents will be when they find out their beautiful daughter is finally getting the success she deserves.” his voice gets lower, one of his hands sneaking towards your crop top and a shiver runs down your body when he touches your skin.

You just want to go home.

“Be a good girl for me and I’ll make all of your dreams come true.”

There’s something concealed in his face as he slowly kisses you back, something that gives you the chills.

Suddenly you’re not sure about him being the nice sweet guy that you always assumed your sunbaenim to be.