#coffee day enterprises

[raurquiz]

#nationalcoffeeday #startrek #kirk #deepspacenine #dax #raktajino #enterprise #tpol #voyager #janeway #StarTrekProdigy #lowerdecks #ensignboimler #Ensignmariner #startrek58 @startrek @startrekonpplus @netflixlat

[tonycries]

You'll Taste Me Too! - G.S.

Synopsis. How do you last three days on a work trip with the man you hate the most in the office? You don’t - you end up pinned underneath him, instead.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, office AU, enemies to lovers, jealousy (Gojo’s side), FAKE DATING, PAST Naoya x reader, creampíes, breéding, oraI (fem receiving), spítting, hot springs, cúmplay, DOWN BAD Satoru, tensíon, he’s a bit mean, revenge on your ex, ambiguous office work, exhíbitionísm, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 11.9k (this was supposed to be HALF that)

A/N. This type of annoying Gojo is always so fun to write, hope y’all have a great week <3

In all your three years as head of the marketing department, it wasn’t any of the tight deadlines or the nervous interns that drove you crazy. Hell, it wasn’t even the fact that the coffee maker in the break room only made tea. 

No, the one thing you couldn’t stand - the one thing that had you contemplating whether your transfer was really worth it - came in the form of the 6’3, cloudy-haired manchild who headed the sales department. 

The one person who’d made it his personal mission to toy with your sanity as soon as you’d stepped foot into the cleancut office of Jujutsu Enterprises. 

The bane of your existence. 

“Gojo Satoru.”

“Huh?” you gape stupidly, and if this was any other time you’d have smacked yourself for the unprofessionalism. 

Yaga nods gravely - almost sympathetic - as if he honestly couldn’t fault you for your reaction. “Yes, since this upcoming contract relies heavily on collaboration between the marketing and sales departments, Satoru here-” He nods at the tangle of long limbs that’d been draped dramatically over the seat right next to you. “-will be accompanying you on your trip to Kyoto…unfortunately.”

“What do you mean ‘accompanying’-”

“The fuck do you mean ‘unfortunately’-”

Your supervisor heaves out a tired sigh over your flurry of protests, rubbing his temples, “Look, I wouldn’t have picked out your ah- duo either. But as heads of department, you two are the best and brightest we have. And the board believes we can snag the infamous Gakuganji and his protegé easily as clients with the combination of you both.” 

“But-” you sputter out. “Can’t I go with Nanami like I usually do? Surely he’s a better option than a pompous, no-good nepo-”

“And I’d rather go alone.” Gojo cuts through smoothly, flashing a cocky wink your way. “Sorry, sweetheart, but even my charm won’t be enough to stop you from scaring that client off.”

Fuck unprofessionalism. If looks could kill, the leveled glare you shoot the man at your side is enough to bury him six feet and have you dancing on his grave already. 

You scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. Now fully facing Gojo for the first time since you’d first entered Yaga’s stuffy office, “Oh yeah, and aren’t you the one that got reprimanded for sleeping through the last company meeting we had?”

“D-did not.” his cheeks tinge with a delicate strawberry pink.

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.” you scoff, brows furrowing when you realize you’ve inched just a bit closer than appropriate. Your knees knocking against his, yet you don’t pull away out of stubborness. “What? Too embarrassed to admit your oh-so-great ‘charm’ was in the pillows?”

Almost mockingly, he’s copying your posture, tight white shirt straining over those biceps he didn’t hesitate to infuriatingly flex any time you came around. Minty breath wafting over your cheeks when he leans in to murmur lowly - just loud enough that Yaga won’t question, “No, but you would be happy to know that it is in the sheets.”

You blink, though, you can’t really be too surprised - of course, Gojo turns the conversation into something so filthy. He always does.

But before you can spit out a few venomous expletives you really would regret saying in front of Yaga, the man himself interrupts your argument with a pointed cough. “Since the chemistry is as lively as ever,” he’s deadpanning dryly. “I take it you both will be on your best behavior for these three days, and come back with a signed contract.”

Chemistry your ass. 

And though he’s addressing you both, you feel a stab of smug satisfaction when Yaga’s gaze lock with an amused Gojo’s. 

“Mhm, of course we’ll come back successful - how could you not with the star employee on this trip.” he motions airily in your direction. You stiffen, not expecting the compliment when- “And of course our cute resident hardass will be there, too.”

“You little fu-”

“Great!” Yaga claps his hands, a signal you knew meant to get the hell out of his office before he assigns more overtime. “It’s settled then, your tickets have been booked for tomorrow and I assume you both have been emailed the appropriate information?”

Nodding, you make your way to leave - and find that Gojo is waiting, glass door to the office held open for you. With a sharp click of your tongue, you bite down on whatever words come to your throat, barely out of the office before you hear a tired warning behind you, “And please don’t try to kill each other, our insurance doesn’t cover it.” 

When you’re both out in the hallway, Gojo flashes you a cocky smirk and an even cockier “You heard the man.” Pointing at his unfairly pretty features - not that you’d admit that in a million years. “After all, my face is insured but who’d want to hurt this handsome-”

“I could.” You interrupt, rolling your eyes. “Easily. And I would, too, if it wasn’t for the fact that this job pays well.” Something you say every time he prances around in your department during breaks, bragging about how you’re “all bark but no bite.”

Satoru only chuckles, raising his hands up in surrender when you continue, “Let’s just get through these three days, ace the contract, and never speak of this again. Okay?”

To your surprise, he’s grabbing one of your hands with his much larger ones - soft, you gulp, noting involuntarily. “I like what goes on in that pretty lil’ brain of yours, silly girl. Then, let’s charm the asses off that dumbass client and the board of elders~”

Everyone in the office knew of the strange little dynamic between you two - found it to be the utmost entertainment they got in the workday. But you were damned if you let it mess up this contract. 

If you two survived the entire three days, that is. 

---

You two were not surviving the entire three days - or the contract deal, for that matter. Hell, you couldn’t even survive this first day. 

“Gojo I told you.” you squint at the glossy paper. “It says platform eight. I know you can’t see without those ugly sunglasses of yours but-”

A big arm comes up suddenly behind your shoulders, snatching the train ticket clean out of your hands. Gojo lets it rest there as he exclaims, “Let me see. Now, y’know if this was me, I’d have chosen Gran class. Ichiji in finances really skimped out buying these second class seats, gonna hafta have a word with him when we get back…”

You narrow your eyes, frantically trying to push back that strange part of you that almost wanted to lean in closer to the hit of his piney, expensive cologne. “Have fun bullying him, you leech.”

To which he only responds with a syrupy giggle, “Oh, don’t worry.” And you let out a tiny gasp when he flicks your forehead softly. “You’ll be right there in first class with me. Even with that bratty attitude of yours, the ladies love those Gojo perks.”

“Mhm explains why you’ve been single for all three years I've had the misfortune of knowing you.” you hiss, eyes desperately darting about for directions to platform eight. You were going to get on this train - with or without him. Preferably without him.

So absorbed in your mission that if you didn’t know any better, you’d have said that Gojo’s words were a pitch higher than normal when he retorts with a strangled, “S-so what? Keepin’ an eye on me, sweetheart?”

And you knew the two of you definitely looked like a peculiar sight - Gojo’s dangling off of you like a ragdoll, surrounded by the few comically large suitcases that were mainly his. So much for a three-day work trip. Your face burns at the few weary salary workers that gave the two of you a very wide berth while going about their daily commutes. Fuck, you couldn’t even ask anyone for help at this point if you both looked at like some safety hazard. 

“Did you find it?” You huff when the silence lingers a bit too long - jumping when you raise your head up to find his burning stare already inches away from you. “God- I take it back, please keep those glasses on.”

“Hey!”

You’re digging your elbow into his side now, words stumbling over the other in a heated hurry, “And get- get off we’re gonna miss this-”

“It really is you, huh?”

All at once, you’re reminded that strangely it isn’t just the two of you causing ruckus in the middle of the Shinjuku station. Unfortunately. 

Any and all previous irritation at Gojo wipes away, flooding back as full, unbridled rage when you’re tearing your eyes away from the nuisance beside you to look up and-

Oh. 

Dammit, you knew you’d recognize that grating voice anywhere - and for the first time, it wasn’t Gojo’s.

“Naoya.”

“You.” 

Still didn’t even have the decency to address you properly, huh? You bite your lower lip, unaware what to say next. But luckily you didn’t have to - because Gojo is standing up straighter, features smoothing into a mask of cool appraisal when he sweeps his eyes down at the other man. 

Finally, Naoya seems to notice him. Flickering quickly between the arm still firmly around your shoulder and his darkened stare. “And who are you?”

“Could ask ya the same thing, two-tone.” he smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. And you swear you could feel the soft pads of his fingers tightening, digging in through your silky work shirt. “What business do you have with us?”

Us - you didn’t miss the emphasis. 

Evidently, Naoya didn’t either, because his tone turns into a low, dangerous simper as he continues. “What? Can’t a man come up just to catch up with a fling?”

Gojo’s jaw clenches as he watches you register the word. Fling. Sure, after about a year of dating, the two of you didn’t have the cleanest break up - with the constant fights and him wanting to uproot your life and dream career with his new job transfer. But still. 

“Of course, he can.” Gojo raises a snowy brow, buttons on his shirt straining when he puffs his chest out ever-so-slightly. You can’t help but notice that he has much more than a few inches on your ex. Gruffing out, “But not when she’s with her new boyfriend.”

Boyfriend?

You freeze the word running around over and over in your hazy mind - boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend-

“And trust me, she’s long forgotten your sorry ass.” You’re jolting back to reality only when you feel the slow, soothing glide of Gojo’s thumb at the exposed skin of your shoulder. He looks down at you with that familiar mirthful smile to say, “Isn’t that right, my girl?”

“Ah uh-” you’re mentally kicking yourself for not choosing to attend those acting lessons in college for extra credit. Coughing out what you hope to be a believable, “Yeah, this is G-Satoru, my- my boyfriend.”

But your coworker takes it all in concerning stride, pulling you flush against his toned chest, rumbling with the muse of “Mhm, and we’re very happy together.” You honestly feel like you’re about to fall weakly to your knees right then and there in the station when you feel the distinct pressure of two soft, plump lips grazing fleetingly at your forehead. Murmuring into your hairline, “Going on a couples’ trip to Kyoto this very moment, in fact.”

“I see.” Naoya levels out, and by the sharp glint in his eyes you already knew the gears on his head were turning. But before you could question him any further, the melodic voice of the railway announcer cuts through the tense air. “Ah- that’s me. And as pleasant as this reunion was, Kurama onsen doesn’t wait.” Before clapping a hand on the shoulder of the uncharacteristically silent Gojo stood by your side, “I wish you the best with your relationship, she’s only good the first few times after all.” His next words are cold and directed at you. “I’ll text ya, if you still don’t have me blocked, that is.” 

Saved by the train - and your fist gripping onto Gojo’s button-up, Naoya saunters to climb aboard the train currently entering the nearby platform. 

Leaving the both of you in that whirling, unfamiliar silence. Gojo’s arm is still burning around your shoulder, your muscles still aching from stopping him from powerfully lunging after the other man.

You break first. 

“Why…why did you do that.” you mutter over the bustling crowds - more to yourself than him, so you’re surprised when he responds just as hastily. 

“It’s just- Because he was a dick.” Gojo’s lips form a petulant pout. He decidedly avoids your probing eyes while he plows on, “And I should be the only one allowed to be a dick to you so don’t get it twisted, silly girl.”

You scoff, before your eyes widen at where Noaya was boarding through the doors of the sleek bullet train, “Wait- Gojo-”

“Satoru, think I deserve to be called ‘Satoru’ after that.” he grins irritatingly. “Consider it a payment since it’ll kill ya to say it every time.”

“Yes yes, S-Satoru-” you wave off, but you can’t deny how easily the name rolls off your tongue. And distinctly, you wondered why you called most of your coworkers by first name, but never him before. “He’s going to Kurama onsen.”

Gojo tilts his head, nose scrunching in confusion. “And?”

“We’re going to Kurama onsen.”

---

For all the disaster the first day had wrecked upon your sanity, you were thankful enough that neither of you were sat in the same area as Naoya. Barely even settling into your cushioned seat before putting on your headphones - and a sleeping mask for good measure so you couldn’t be riled up by your coworker again. 

Surprisingly he didn’t try either. Only bothering you to share his snacks occasionally, and hog the arm space on your chair, electricity running down your skin every time he brushed up against you. 

It was quiet, somehow neither of you minded. 

“Hah- are we- woah.” you gasp out after the short walk from the Kyoto station to your destination, an intricate wooden sign coming into view. Lugging your baggage with you - Gojo had insisted he carry it too as a show of strength, but you were sure it’s because he just wanted to give up halfway through and take a taxi instead. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah yeah I get that a lot.” Gojo comes up behind you without warning, a sultry trickle of sweat trailing down his forehead to the forbidden depths of where he’d unbuttoned his shirt a few times. “But usually it’s ‘gorgeous’ or ‘hot as hell’ or-”

“Oh, shut up.” you breathe, ripping your eyes away and towards the reception. “Get your ass moving now, we’ve gotta get checked in and form a game plan for the meeting.”

“That eager to get me in a bed? Always knew ya had it in you, sweetheart.” Oh, he lets out a shiver at your blazingly dirty look. “I mean- yes, ma’am.”

There aren’t too many visitors, and you choose to do the talking when you walk up to the sweet older lady at the reception, having decided that Gojo has done way too much of that for today. Humming, “Hi there, we’re here for two rooms reserved under the name ‘Yaga’?”

A few taps of her keyboard and she’s flashing you a megawatt smile, “Oh yes, you’re right on time!” Before getting up from her seat, “I’ll be the one escorting the young couple to their honeymoon suite. Just this way-”

And while Gojo breezes past you without a single complaint, you stand frozen in the middle of the cozy wooden room. Reaching out a hand to sputter, “W-wait, surely there must be some mistake? Honeymoon suite?”

Gojo is close enough that he whispers something in her ear, and you already know it doesn’t bode well for you at all. 

“Oh honey don’t worry.” she flutters a flustered hand at you. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with having your dear boyfriend here spend a bit extra on a comfy suite. Either way, it has been booked for a while now and unfortunately nothing can be changed…”

Forgetting yourself, you sneak a glance over at where she had left her desktop on. The tiny letters on screen confirming that yes, this reservation was under the name Yaga. And no, it wasn’t a mistake that the room you were given was a honeymoon suite. 

“Get your ass movin’ now.” Gojo’s voice snaps you out of your little reverie, sounding as if he was on the verge of bursting into laughter while he mocks your earlier words. He grins, “When life gives you lemons- or when Yaga gives you a honeymoon suite…”

---

“Dibs not on the couch.”

“Dibs not on the- wait, no.” Gojo huffs when you’re finally led to your sprawling room, and for all the scandal of it being a honeymoon suite, you have to admit that Yaga had great taste. “Shouldn’t you treat your boyfriend better?”

You’re splaying yourself out on the plush mattress of the bed - the only bed, because of course the universe doesn’t bestow you with a normal work trip. But god none of those cheap motels at the trips you’d gone on with Nanami or Shoko could ever compare to this. 

Mindfully, you push away the rose petals decorating the silken sheets. “Not my problem.” Jutting a thumb towards the small private hot spring allocated for your room outside, “Sleep in the onsen. Might wanna hurry though, it’s getting dark.”

“Please?” 

“I’m kicking you out of this room altogether.”

“Pretty please.”

You feel a rush of begrudging endearment at the way he’s batting his long lashes at you. Suddenly, you’re wondering whether this is why so many at the office can’t get enough of Gojo - why everyone flocks to him as soon as he waltzes into your department for no apparent reason. Struggling to stand firm. “Hasn’t Nanami told you before that adding ‘pretty’ doesn’t work?”

Grumbling, he sets down the bags, swiftly turning around to call out, “Fine, but m’takin’ a shower first, so you better keep any expensive shampoos away or m’stealing with no regrets.”

Mind dizzy with everything from today, it’s all you can do to shuffle through your bag for your laptop. Trembling fingers deciding that if you weren’t going to think too deeply about this, might as well get some work done. 

It’s what you do for a while - to partial success - until you’re pulled out of your spiels of presentations and trying to keep Gojo’s script on subject by the sound of the running water stopping, and the bathroom door clicking open. 

And lo and behold - there stood Gojo. Shirtless. 

The very same asshole that would throw paper clips at you during meetings, and always finished off the last muffin in the break room he knew you’d been eyeing all day. Here he stood - all sharp hip bones and smooth curves of muscle that were always poorly covered by his work clothes. 

Covering almost all of the bathroom doorway with his broad shoulders, speckled with glistening droplets of water that danced tauntingly down, down, down the sharp planes of his collarbones. Down his abs, and onto a trail of white, hidden by a fluffy white towel you have to force your eyes away from. 

“Put some- put some clothes on. You- you-” you’re scrambling urgently for something near you, which unfortunately happened to be a soft cotton you’d pulled out from your bag earlier. “-you lecher.”

Wordlessly, Gojo’s stunned surprise breaks into a brilliant grin when he unfolds the canon of cloth you’d thrown his way. Humming, “You call me a lecher, but you’re the one that wants to see me in your clothes, huh?”

And sure enough - it was. It was as if the universe was playing a practical joke on you because it was your favorite t-shirt, in fact, that ragged Bleach graphic held gently between Gojo’s long, pale fingers. 

You choke out, hastily getting off the bed. “Wait- I take it back.”

“I don’t know.” Gojo teases, holding the t-shirt well over your head. And all you can do is frantically reach and swerve for it, each attempt dodged with a shit-eating grin. “You get the bed, I get this ratty t-shirt, seems like a fair trade to me, no?”

“No.”

Gojo’s face is hovering so close above yours, though, he still keeps the t-shirt safely away from you. “Then I guess this is f’me, silly girl.”

You groan, appreciating the way his breath catches in his throat when you hook an arm around his neck. Reeling him in so close while you still swipe, “No, but what you are going to get is-”

What Gojo was going to get, he never finds out. Because in your frantic effort to steal back the t-shirt you so desperately didn’t want in the hands of the bastard from sales, you don’t pay attention to that slippery pool of water forming around you two from his half-assed attempts at drying off. 

And before you know it, you’re lurching to the floor - you wince, arms held out to break your fall and-

It never happens.

Blinking your eyes open, the first thing you’re met with is what seems like miles upon miles of milky, smooth skin. Breathing in such a heady scent, it’s probably what makes your mind so melty when the realization hits you - a little too late - that you’re being held against Gojo’s chest. 

His painfully bare chest. 

“Satoru?” you breathe. Pawing at where you could feel his racing heartbeat, thumping so painfully against one of his pecs. “Are- are you okay?”

That gets you a hot laugh into your neck, followed by a long, drawn-out shudder that sends shivers down your spine. Through laughs, he manages to grit out, “You’re asking me that?”

He sounds surprised - relieved almost. Such a tender note in his tone at the lack of usual taunting in your words. 

Gojo lets you go - barely, still keeping two strong arms locked around your waist like he was afraid even the slightest distance could have you in danger all over again. “You can take the t-shirt.” He breathes, picking up the damp fabric now fallen onto the floor and pressing it into your palms. “I’m more of a Naruto guy anyway. And you can take the bed, I was jok-”

“You can take it.” 

“What? No-”

“You can.” you cut him off, giving a sidelong glance at the cramped couch tucked into a corner of your suite. Again, you’re drinking in all of him, how tall he was. How warm. How he’d probably have half his body dangling off the side of the cushions, “We can- I mean we can share. We’re adults, right? Wouldn’t want you complaining about a sore back during the contract talks anyway.”

“Worrying about me, sweetheart?” 

“No.” you scowl, pushing him away. “Now excuse you, but I have to use the bathroom since someone was hogging it earlier.”

And if you’d waited just a moment longer - maybe peaked your head out instead of scurrying inside as fast as your legs carried you - you’d have noticed that Gojo was still standing there. A fist clenched at where his heart was, face as pink as those blooming sakura outside. 

---

You didn’t sleep that night. Not one bit. 

It might partially have to do with the fact that your bed was invaded by one very gangly asshole sprawling himself all over the pillow wall you’d constructed. Or maybe to do with the aching discomfort in your joints after moving to sleep on the hard couch after only a few minutes of him getting knocking out. 

“Good morning~” Gojo’s sing-song voice rings through your verging murderous thoughts on the second day. “The sun is shining, my skin is glowing and-” His bleary eyes lock on your hunched figure across the room, looking genuinely confused as to how you got here. “-you’re on the couch?” 

“Yeah. Considered taking ya out in your sleep but then I realized the contract would be in jeopardy.”

He whines, “I’ve- I’ve never had anyone complain before.”

“They probably ran away before that.” you nod solemnly over his sputtering complaints. Stretching, content with the pop of your bones. “Don’t look at me like that, it wasn’t that bad.”

You look away when Gojo mimics your actions, sleep shirt lifting to reveal a sliver of white tufts at the hem of his boxers. He pouts, sulky eyes still locked on you, “But still, should’ve kicked me out. I would’ve expected you to instead of taking that shitty couch. Seems like something that guy would do.”

Your heart pangs - just a bit - and you let out a sharp laugh, “Fine, I’ll kick you out tonight. Maybe.” It’s genuine, it really is, and in the growing silence all Gojo can manage to do is fall back into your little familiar dance of teasing.

“Going soft on me? Y’know it’s usually the ladies crawling into my bed not out of it-” 

“Oh fuck you. I take it back, I will kick you out of the room itself. Have fun sleeping in the onsen, you smug bastard.”

He squawks in protest when you throw a cushion at him. Several, actually, just for good measure. “Mercy, woman! I’m delicate!”

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

When Gojo falls back into the comfort of the silky soft sheets, you heave out a sigh. Making your way to the sliding doors, still fully expecting a flustered employee telling you that this was all a mistake and of course, you two weren’t booked for the honeymoon suite. 

“Yes?” you answer, eyes widening when you spot that familiar man in front of you. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh god, it’s you.” Naoya spits, gaze heating up. “Of course, I should’ve known it’s you and that idiot boyfriend of yours makin’ so much noise next door.”

Great. Perfect. Wonderful. As if this trip couldn’t get any better. 

You pinch your nose, echoing hollowly, “What do you want?”

“Exactly that. Don’t make so much noise, neighbor. I don’t care what limp dick he’s giving you-” 

“Is that all?” you ask dryly, fully knowing there’s more he’s just aching to hurl at you. Before tucking yourself further behind the door, “If that’s all then I hafta go back to that ‘limp dick’.”

“What’s this about limp dick?” Goosebumps run along your arms when you feel something soft - hot - push up from behind you. From the corner of your eye, you spy a long milky hand flex as Gojo - shirtless - cages you in the doorway, “Because it sure can’t be mine then. Won’t you agree, my girl?”

Your face burns at the knowing wink Gojo throws your way, barely managing to hasten, “Uh- yeah.”

“She doesn’t sound very convinced.” Naoya narrows his eyes at your minute expressions, knowing you uncomfortably well after so long. “Guess she’s been missing a real man, huh?”

He scoffs, and you gulp heavily when soft lips kiss a gentle trail up the side of your neck, “Well who’s the one that’s been makin’ her scream all mornin’?” Gojo tilts his head innocently, blatantly showing off a ruddy splotch from where you’d attacked him with a cushion earlier, the zipper leaving a suspicious mark. “Like I said at the train station, she can make her own choices and she’s long forgotten your sorry ass so don’t even try it, you two-toned little bastard.”

Wrapping a possessive arm around your waist, you’re easily tugged back into the safety of your suite - and into Gojo’s sculpted front. You don’t push him away as your immediate thought was to, the feeling was right - too right.

“Satoru?” you hiss once the door is slammed shut.

“Hm?” he whispers hotly into the crook of your neck. 

Still pressed up so close that you can feel the surge and dip of his chest when he breathes you in deeply. “Why are you shirtless?”

“Uh- did I ever tell you I was a method actor, sweetheart?”

---

Unfortunately, despite being in one of the most picturesque hotspots that Kyoto had to offer, a work trip - especially one with such a high profile client and his protegé - meant that the two of you spent most of the day cooped up in your room, typing away on your laptops. 

“Ugh, this sucks.” Gojo groans for about the seventh time this hour. Running a hand tiredly through his hair, “Are you always such a hardass about contracts like this? Honestly, I can’t even feel my legs and it is not in the good way-”

“You pussy.” you grumble as you chug down another can of coffee, eyes flickering to the clock at the end of the room reading 11:00PM. “You don’t see me complaining.” 

He only scoffs, “Of course ya wouldn’t complain, this shit probably gets you off. But unfortunately for those of us that have lives-” 

You click your tongue, rubbing the oncoming headache that always seems to appear when you’re near Gojo. “Yeah, because talkin’ out of your ass and being a public nuisance is such a great life.”

“C’mon now, I see you picking at that blanket - my blanket, by the way - like it insulted your entire bloodline. You’re not slick, you wanna get outta here too.” At your pointed silence, he’s kicking his legs in the air, very much the toddler you knew him to be. “That’s- that’s it I can’t-”

Before you can react, Gojo is barrelling through the sliding doors of your suite. Long legs carrying up the short pathway that led to that private hot spring.

You’re following him before you realize it, “What- what are you- oh!”

You couldn’t cover your eyes fast enough. Being gifted with a brief, obscene eyeful of pale skin - leading all the way down his naked back, and even further when he cannonballs straight into the pool of water. 

Shit, maybe this was why the others at the office loved him so much. 

And it was hard not to understand it when Gojo’s drenched head poked out from under the hot water. White strands plastered to his forehead, a blush creeping down his skin at the head, looking at you with slightly-red, damp eyes that only seemed bluer through the steam.

“Yeah yeah I know I didn’t rinse before and I know I didn’t finish our project yet but-” he grins a grin that you don’t think you could ever forget. And you don’t know whether how hot you feel is from the onsen or him. Reaching out a soaked, strong arm towards you. “-won’t you help me get out?”

You startle, clearly not having expected this request. Narrowing your eyes suspiciously as you inch closer, “Get out?” He nods eagerly, fingers intertwining softly with yours. “Fine but-”

Whatever scream you might’ve let out is swallowed up by water- then air. 

Then more very deserved yelling, of course. “Satoru what the fuck-” Your nails dig into his deltoids, sure to leave some very questionable marks but you didn’t care at this moment. Wiping away the water in your face while he holds you up easily, “I’m gonna kill you.”

“Yeah yeah, can’t kill me when you’re clinging to me like this, sweetheart.” Gojo rolls his eyes, but he makes no move to push you off. In fact, he only tightens the arm around your hips. “You looked like you needed that, the 8 hours of straight working like Yaga was havin’ you act like him.”

Somehow, you don’t feel strange about the fact that you’re being pushed up against a very painfully naked Gojo. Living out what is probably the wet dream for about half the office.

He notices, of course he does. 

“Trynna take a peek?” Gojo wiggles his brows. And when you’re trying to hide away behind your hands, he nuzzles them away, arms a bit too occupied holding you captive. Sighing dramatically, “No need to be shy, many people do. I don’t mind of course, ah the woes of being fucking hot.”

Gasping, “Fuck you.” Unbeknownst as to why, you’re laughing. Contemplating whether you should really give him a good kick down below when you choke out, “You’re an asshole, y’know?”

“I know.” he smiles. “N’ yet you still haven’t drowned me.”

“I really fuckin’ hate you.”

Why could you really fucking kiss him right now? 

“I know.”

The moment is broken only a few seconds later by some ungodly screeching you recognize to be none other than your beloved ex’s from next door. Yelling about “Shut the fuck up, if you’re gonna have onsen sex I’m calling the front lobby.”

“What? Can’t a man fuck his girl in peace?” Gojo shouts back. “Shut up just because your puny dick can’t get some, two-tone.”

That broke whatever magical spell was put on the two of you, obviously. And you were the first to run back to the suite - leaving Gojo and his nakedness alone. Very, very alone. 

He takes a bit longer to follow you, and you’re already freshened up and in bed by the time he makes his way to the bathroom - with clothes this time, fortunately for your sanity. 

Only a few minutes later, he’s nestling right next to you on the bed. You gasp in a sharp inhale at the heat of his proximity, mere millimeters away from you now. 

“Good work today, by the way.” Gojo gruffs out to your turned back, quiet words carrying over that ridiculous extra-vaulted wall of pillows, padded up with ones from the couch, too. Silver tongue stumbling over his words slightly, “For how much I complained I didn’t get to tell ya. You and I - mainly I - are gonna ace that contract tomorrow.”

There’s no taunting in his tone, not one bit. And you surprise the both of you when you murmur out shakily, “I’m worried.”

“Huh?” he chokes in disbelief. “Listen, I know I slept through that meeting one time, but I swear it was only one time. I’m a…somewhat changed man, I promise I won’t-”

“Not that.”

He pauses at your interruption. All is quiet - only the chirping of crickets outside, and the steamy buzz of nearby hot springs. 

And for the first time in the twenty-something years Gojo Satoru has wreaked havoc upon this Earth, he is rendered speechless. Wordlessly picking apart your wall of pillows - one by one, as if to give you more than enough time to stop him - to loop two strong arms around you. 

“Shut up.” he breathes. “You’ll do brilliant, silly girl.”

---

Gojo remembers the exact date he met you - probably the exact time, too. Honestly, even three whole years after that initial meeting, he can’t remember anything but that, if you asked him to recall a single meeting held that week then Gojo honestly wouldn’t have been able to tell you. 

It was a regular day spent driving poor Nanami over in the marketing department dangerously close to his fifth migraine of the day.

“You know I know I’m a valuable asset to this company Nanamin.” he chuckles, looking over where the other man was readying a sparkly Welcome! banner. “But this is all too much even for me~”

“It’s not for you.” Nanami spits, curtly. Barely sparing Gojo a glance before readying the welcome muffins, “It’s for the new head of department arriving soon today.”

And oh that piqued his interest like never before. That had all thoughts of the meeting he was currently missing flying out the window as he wondered what you would be like. Swiping away a few of those tempting muffins right out of Ichiji’s hands, he wonders. Would you be another Ichiji? Would you try and keep him under your thumb like Yaga? Hah, you could try but-

“Look I don’t know if the sales department doesn’t have food but, really?” 

What?

A shudder wracks through the oh-so-great Gojo’s body at the sound of your cool, firm tone turning to meet the source and-

Oh. Oh wow. So that’s what it’s like to have your soul impaled and buried six feet under.

It was sort of addicting.

And if Gojo thought his knees were weak at just a gorgeous glare from you - well, he was completely and utterly unprepared for when he leaned in closer to where you stood firmly. Shielding a pale, trembling Ichiji. And, honestly, with a death stare like that you couldn’t blame a guy for getting nervous! It’s all he could do to hum out a cocky, “What? Want some, sweetheart?”

“Sweetheart? What I want is you out of my department.” you furrow your brows. “Now.”

It’s all that’s said before you’re dragging him by his hand out - and, shit Gojo is so riveted by how soft your hands are that he almost forgets to be offended by the way the entire marketing department just watches and giggles at the scene playing out before them. Traitors.

You push him out of the door, “I better not see you coming back to toy with my new employees-” Heavy gaze flickering down to his name tag. “-Gojo.”

Ah, truly a woman of his dreams. 

And it honestly still felt like a dream even now - especially now - when you’re stood in front of him on the third day in Kyoto. Fingers messing meticulously with your hair as you check your reflection in the mirror, smoothing down your new red dress. “God, I hope it isn’t too much. How do I look?”

Perfect, he wants to say. 

But instead he nudges your shoulder in the booth of your seat, settling for an obnoxious, “Alright, not as good as me, though.” Gojo takes delight in the way you give his arm a punch, smile a lot easier than before now. 

“As if, you can’t even tie this properly. Here-” your fingers fiddle deftly with his slightly crooked tie. “Fixed it, you big baby.”

He grins, “If you wanted to get your hands on me then you should’ve- oh wait you already have, haven’t you? I remember that someone bypassed her own lil’ pillow wall last night.”

“Shut up.” you give him a tight warning. “They’re here.”

Honestly, there was only one thing worse than seeing old Gakuganji - that is, the sight of his sniveling protegé following him right after. Except- 

“Two-tone?” 

“Y-you!”

There’s a tense silence between the three of you in the exquisite onsen dining hall, one that almost makes you want to jump up and bolt back to your room because this can’t be real. Surely, this can’t be-

“I see the three of you are already acquainted?” Gakuganji’s strained, aged voice cuts through your whirlwind of thoughts. “Sit, sit, Naoya. That only makes things easier.”

As a fuming Naoya and an oblivious Gakuganji take their seats in front of the two of you, you feel the undeniable pressure of long, warm fingers squeezing your own. Reassuring. And it makes you flash the two men your best, most polished business smile, “So, about the contract.”

---

“I’m going to throw up.”

“Satoru.”

“No, I will throw up. And that will not be good for my reputation.”

“Satoru, if you throw up I’m beating your ass.”

He narrows his eyes at your heated whisper, matching you with a low, “Damn keep it for the bedroom sweetheart. We still hafta wait till Gakuganji comes back with his decision.” 

“Ahem!”

It’s that annoyed, grating faux cough that drags you and Gojo out of your little world - back to reality in which no, unfortunately while your primary client has gone off to take an important business call regarding your contract, you were left to babysit his protegé.

“Yes, Naoya.” you give him a dry grin. It was nearing well into late night at this point, and most of the other visitors had cleared out except for the reserved table you were sitting in. “Do you want to be beat up, too?”

He only points an accusing finger at the two of you, “Don’t play games with me you hear. I’ve already got you figured out, coming here on a business trip and dating your coworker all the same-” Both you and Gojo raise a brow at this, what an idiot. “-you two will be fired for this.”

You catch Gojo’s eye and try not to burst out laughing, “As if. And trust me, I wouldn’t be here if I knew that you were Gakuganji’s new protegé.”

“Not because the guy you have to be here with is the same one you told me you hated back then?” he spits. “Honestly, you’d have been better off with me than this ‘pompous, no-good nepo baby asshole’ as you loved to put it.”

And you knew that Gojo was aware of your little rivalry - hell, he was an active participant, more than happy to rile you up every time. But that still didn’t stop you from tensing up when you spared a glance at the man beside you. 

Surprised to see that unapologetic smirk on his face, “Of course she did.” Looking down at you with what you swore was such unimaginably deep fondness in his eyes. “I probably imagine she told you all the funny ways she wanted to get back at me, too? Banning me from the marketing department? Holding an anti-Gojo campaign? Strangling?” Gojo takes Naoya’s shocked silence as enough of an answer, “Guess what, she did hate me, probably still can’t stand me. Very understandably so, because she’s hot as fuck when she’s mad.”

Despite his furrowed brow and the angry slash of his mouth, Naoya can’t stop himself from blurting out, “W-well how did you-”

“We fuck it out, of course.”

And perhaps for the one time on this entire trip, the universe smiles down at you. You find yourself sighing in relief at the sight of Gakuganji nearing your table, evidently done with his phone call. Thank fuck, you weren’t ready for a fight to break out and this dress was too expensive to ruin. 

“Seems you three are getting along well.” the old man drones out, and by the tone of his voice you genuinely can’t tell whether he was joking or not. Turning towards you and Gojo, “Well, after that very thorough presentation and careful consideration with the board at our Kyoto branch, we have all come to a unanimous decision.” You wait with bated breath for his next few words, “Where do we sign?”

Naoya stands in his seat, “But- but, sir.” He cringes, as furious as the last time you’d seen him a year ago. “You can’t sign off on this deal- not with these scumming, absolute little shits.”

“Naoya.” Gakuganji’s voice carries a warning. “You are dismissed.”

Ah, Gojo chuckles inwardly, exactly where he wanted him. 

It seemed like a blur after that - a blur of signed contracts and Gojo making faces at an ashen-faced Naoya behind Gakuganji’s back, of being told that the two of you simply “must visit” their offices in Kyoto one day - much to your exes absolute torture. To which Gojo had replied with a smug, “Of course, my girlfriend and I will. Won’t we, sweetheart?” Just loud enough that Naoya - who’d been banned to a nearby table - could fume over. 

And it’s how you found yourself pulling a giggly Gojo by his lapels back to your suite, hasty and desperate. Tripping over one another as you stumble in. 

“Easy there on the merchandise, sweetheart.” he jests, but it sounds so strained even to him. “Can’t break our streak and kill each other on the last day now, can we?”

Your laughter dies down, “Hey, Satoru?”

“Oh no…”

“Why did you call me your girlfriend even at the end back then?”

His brows scrunch up, pleading almost. He chokes out, “Just- you- I just-” Flicking a calculated finger right in the middle of your forehead, “You think too much, did you know that? Hate to see this pretty face like this, did you see his reaction?”

“Oh my god yes did you see his face, Satoru?” you’re pressing him against the wall to steady yourselves. Feeling so drunk off the evening and him. “Naoya looked like he was going to explode right then and there. We did so good.”

“What did I tell, ya? I always know everything, silly girl.” Two big arms wrap around yours in a congratulatory hug - or, at least, what you think is a congratulatory hug. And if his palms dip just a bit lower than your waist - if this was just a bit inappropriate - neither of you say anything. “Mhm. Don’t even know what you dated that fool in the first place, he’s not even in your league.�� 

You scoff, “Gee thanks.”

“No no, not in that way, don’t ever think in that way, stupid.” A long index comes up to tilt your chin up to meet his greedy gaze. “You’re too gorgeous for him. Besides, he spoke like a man who couldn’t even find the clit.”

“Well- he did find it.” you relish in that deepening furrow of Gojo’s brow, the way the muscles in his jaw tick just right. “But wanna hear a secret?” Those soft baby hair at the nape of his neck raise when you’re whispering in his ear, barely even waiting for his dazed nod. “He still never made me cum.”

“...Never?”

“Never.”

There’s a beat of silence, one. Two. 

Shit. 

You’d long expected Gojo’s smart mouth to make some kind of insulting joke by now. And you’re halfway through wondering whether you’d overshared too much, untangling your arms from his vice-like embrace before-

“I would.” he rasps, breaths ragged. You’re tilting your head in confusion when he repeats cockily, “I would’ve made you cum, y’know. How could I not?”

There’s a snarky little part of you that makes you quick a brow, a sultry smirk playing on your lips. “Is that an offer?”

Gojo’s arms loop around you tight - almost too tight, you could almost hear your poor bones popping in protest. “It’s a promise.”

Oh that’s all you wanted to hear right about now. And he can fucking see the goosebumps that make their way down your exposed shoulders, he can practically hear that syrupy sweet tone that was really not good for his sanity. 

“Prove it, Satoru.”

His lips are crashing against yours like they’re magnetized - and it’s nothing like what you’d imagine kissing Gojo Satoru would’ve been like. Nothing suave, shallow. It’s sloppy, a mess of teeth and lips and his tongue tasting every inch of your candied lips like he couldn’t get enough. Like he didn’t even want to breathe for fear of losing out on your pretty mouth. 

“Fuck-” Gojo hisses, delicate strings of spit snapping as he pulls away ever-so-slightly to take in the delicious sight of you all glossy eyed with swollen lips. “Fuck you’re so beautiful. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”

Kissing you over and over like he couldn’t get enough. Like he didn’t want to get enough, you’re moaning when Gojo slips his tongue past the seam of your lips. Addicted to the distinct taste of him and those cheap cherry lollipops you always caught him sucking on in the break room.

He’s drawing back in a way that has him drinking in your soft noises, big palms kneading your body over your dress. 

“Sa- Sato-” you’re gasping out when he flips you over to press you up against the wall. Assaulting your bruised lips with heated peck after peck. “What do you- mean-”

He groans, lips moving to kiss down the quivering column of your throat, “Shut up- Just shut up and kiss me. God, for how much I love that mouth of yours, you talk way too much, sweetheart.”

And that was really rich coming from him - but you don’t get to snark back at him. Because no sooner are the words out of your mouth that Gojo decides he’s had enough of playing nice - that is, if he was in the first place. 

Immediately fiddling towards that cold metal zipper in the back, gliding down the red fabric right along with your bra- shit, when did he even unclip it?

“You-” you sputter, the cool chill of the bedroom pebbles your sensitive nipples. The dawning feeling that this absolute thorn at your side might be much more than just talk has your thighs pressing together. Leveling him with a narrow look, “You are such a whore, aren’t you?”

He flashes you a sheepish grin, large palms groping your tits. “Would ya believe me if I told you it was from how many times I’d imagined this before?”

“Absolutely not.”

This earns you a sharp smack! gifted onto the fat of your ass, the five pads of Gojo’s fingers burning onto where your dress was hiking up. 

“Always need to talk back, don’t you?” he spits, shoving a knee between your two legs. Such an innocently handsome grin splashing across his face at the soft moan you let out, grinding purposefully against that damp mound of your needy cunt. “Why won’t you ever hah- believe me?” He has one hand shoving your dress down, down, down. The other dragging your sloppy hips down his muscled thigh, “You wanna hear a secret? Stick your tongue out f’me like a good girl now, sweetheart.” 

And oh you wanted to fight back. To outright refuse to comply so brattily, but it’s all you can do to nod blearily, feeling so fucking dirty with the way you’re letting your tongue loll out. Whining when Gojo smushes your cheeks together into an obscene pucker, into the perfect target for him to spit once. Twice. 

“Yeah, take it- that’s my girl. A secret for a secret, right?” Gojo smiles so darkly, swiping away that thick splatter of syrupy saliva dredged up on the corner of your mouth. Intentional, of course. His words are low but clear, unable to have you mistaking them for anything else when he says, “That time I slept through the whole meeting? Wasn’t sleepin’.”  He bites down on your earlobe, licking lightly. “S’just, I happened to see that cute new skirt you were wearing that day, it was so short- so fuckin’ tight. Couldn’t bear to show my face, not after I’d just spent the past few hours with my hand wrapped around my cock, wondering all the sweet things I could do to you in it.”

You’re gasping, “You’re so fucking filthy.”

“Yeah yeah.” he purrs, toying with the hem of your now dress, the red cloth now dangling somewhere at your thighs. “And don’t pretend you’re not just as dirty, hardass. Actin’ all prudish when ya dress like this underneath.”

As if to prove his point, the back of one of his fingers is gliding across where your lacy black panties were peeking out. Groaning at the sopping wet fabric, “Yeah, just as dirty as I thought.”

With his little hypothesis confirmed, it’s all that Gojo has to do to pick you up with one arm hooking under your already trembly thighs. You’re keening when he plants another solid smack on the fat of your ass, “Satoru!”

“Ohh, I love that. Say it again.” he murmurs, walking slowly to the edge of your shared bed. Savoring that feeling of your drooling cunt seeping through to paint a small dark patch on his suit. “I said, say it again.”

All it takes is another harsh slap against your ass, and a honeyed drag of Gojo’s name for him to splay you out like some slut on the soft silken sheets. You find yourself pulling him back by his broad shoulders when he takes the moment to admire just how gorgeous you looked. Even better than any daydream that mind of his could think of. 

“Sa-toru-” you mewl, and he only licks his lips as if in a daze. Not knowing where to look - at that needy, already-cockdrunk glaze over your eyes, at the way your flimsy dress wrapped around the plush of your thighs, at that glistening little patch on the plump mound of your cunt. So mouthwatering. “Satoru- Sa- Toru!”

That makes him snap out of his little hypnosis. “What did you call me?” he breathes. 

You bat your lashes deceivingly innocently up at him, “Sato-”

“No.” he’s cutting you off, Adam’s apple bobbing with the heavy gulp he takes. Thumbing at your puffy lips as if to drag the same words out of you - have them going straight to his achy cock once more. “That other one. Don’t play stupid with me, silly girl, you know exactly what I’m talking about.” 

Oh, you did. 

And you’re feeling the way your dripping pussy clenches with anticipation when you whine out that little nickname once more. “Toru, please.” Adding a little flair to have Gojo’s rosy lips fall into a soft oh! choking on a ragged low hiss when a hand of his subconsciously goes down to squeeze his bulging erection. 

“Oh yes, m’name sounds so fuckin’ cute on your lips.” he groans. The sheets below you two rustling with movement when he shuffles urgently downwards, “Sounds so fucking good it makes me wanna-” 

RIP!

“-know if she sounds it out just as pretty as you.”

You’re still reeling from the tatters of what remained of your favorite red dress being thrown unapologetically onto the tatami mats below. Huffing in irritation, “Satoru, if you’re ngh- dead if you don’t replace that-”

He’s shutting you up with another quiet smack onto your heated skin - this time at your shamefully spread inner thighs, the edges of his padded fingers just barely touching on your swollen folds. “Yeah yeah, I’ll buy ya the whole fuckin’ store if I have to.” Before hovering so close you could feel every hitch of his hot breath on your beading cunt, “And m’gonna make it so you don’t dare call me that again.”

You don’t have a response to that - and anything you might’ve taunted back is being knocked out of your mouth. The only thing leaving it being slurred little whimpers of Gojo’s name when he licks a long, languid stripe up your puffy slit. 

“Oh, look at that.” he chuckles. Pushing apart your thighs to get a nice greedy look at every drop of your sweet sweet juices glistening in the dim lighting. “Think she’s more mouthy than you, if tha’s even possible, heh.”

His long, eager tongue is slurping up every syrupy drop of your slick. Again. And again. And again and again and-

“Fuck- Toru.” your fingers find their way weaving into his soft strands when the very tip of his soft tongue finds its way just past your folds. Arching your spine off the plush bed needily like some slut, “Need you to- hngh- go deeper.”

The only response you’re getting is a sultry, smug grin being spread across your pussy lips. Feeling everything from the quirk of his cupid’s bow, to that dimple at the edge of Gojo’s smirk, “Knew you were needy, but this- this is fucking amazing.”

“Guess you’re all bark no bite, huh?” you pout, voice teetering into teasingly whiny. And oh how you love the way that wipes all the cockiness from Gojo’s face. “Even Naoya was able to actually eat me out the way I-”

It’s like it killed him to hear those goading words from you - and something snaps before he’s shoving that pretty face of his back nose-deep into your addictive pussy. 

Slotting his tongue up and down your hot slit. Up and down up and down up and-

“F-fuck, oh Toru-” you squeal when he wastes no time pushing past that snug little ring of resistance to reach deep into your gummy walls. Barely even giving you any warning - Gojo’s eyes roll to the back of his head at how sinfully tight you were squeezing him. “Shit how are you in so deep-”

And that petty, petty little part of him doesn’t answer, instead gliding up a determined thumb up to draw methodical circles on your throbbing clit. Fast. So so sloppy with the way he was letting your juices dribble past his knuckles, his wrist, forming a glossy sheen all the way down to the sheets. Matching the ruthless cadence of the way he was fucking your ravaged cunt the way he wished he could do with his rock-hard cock right now. 

“Ah!” you gasp, when one swipe of his tongue sends jolts of pure white-hot pleasure running up your spine. And that’s all Gojo has to hear before he’s attacking your hidden sweet spot over and over. “F-fuck s’too good. Fuckin’ hate how your big mouth is- ngh- so good at this-”

That causes a husky rasp of laughter to bubble its way out of Gojo’s throat, and he’s pinning your wildly bucking hips down with one arm. “Don’t you dare run away now. You’re so cute when you’re cockdrunk and truthful like this, silly girl.”

The vibrations have you moaning out a feverish Toru! Toru! Toru! louder than ever, wrenching out of you with every crash of his soft tongue against your sensitive spots. Every harsh swivel on your clit, just harder on the tip, softer at the curve. 

“Yeah- yeah yeah yeah, say my name like that.” he gasps, spitting out hissy profanities into your velvety walls. You were squeezing him so tight it was almost difficult to bully his tongue into your plushy walls. To keep up his mean staccato - but fuck, it didn’t matter if his fingers were cramping up, it didn’t matter if his tongue was getting tired. Because Gojo Satoru was one stubborn man. “Louder-”

“T-Toru!”

“No no,” you’re jolting at the feeling of something cool and glossy hitting your cunt in a harsh glob. Gojo barely wastes any time thumbing his spit in to mix with the mess made down below, letting your ears ring with such obscene squelches that have your cheeks burning. “Hear this, sweetheart?” As if there’s anything else you could hear, he’s pulling out those sultry sounds from you. “She’s louder than you, n’ that makes me so sad-” You fuck up further and further into Gojo’s tongue, eyes locked with his down in his favorite position between your legs. “-my girl can be ah- loud f’me, right? Say my name, say it so the whole fuckin’ onsen hears.”

“Toru—”

He’s taunting you in that same honeyed tone, “Louder.” Murmuring even deeper into your cunt, “C’mon, louder. Tell it to me.”

“Toru! Fuck- m-close-” It’s probably the last understandable sentence you’re managing to moan out before you finally cum. Wave after wave of such filthy pleasure hitting you, it’s all you can do to tighten your grip on his hair. Angling and using leverage to grind your hips down deeper, jolting with every flick of his tongue sending stars behind your eyelids. And Gojo, satisfied, shuts up to let you ride his face through your high. Using him, just dragging your sloppy pussy all over his tongue, his mouth. Over and over.

“Jus’ a bit more-” you hear him whisper out so sweetly over your ringing ears. Suddenly, your limp hands fall to the sides of that drenched pool you’ve made. And yet Gojo is still going, still meshing his bruised lips so messily against your own, making out with your cunt in a way that has him so depraved. “Just some more, pretty girl- you taste so addictive.”

Big fat tears of overstimulation prick at your eyes, and you’re sobbing out, “W-wait- fuck m’too sensitive for that.”

“You can handle it, you’re a big- fuck- a big girl, aren’t ya?” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head with every taste of your pussy. Surging forwards despite the hold you have on his hair, “Hold on- just want a bit more- you don’t know how long-”

The pout he’s giving you once you have to just drag him away like a man starved, fighting against the grip you have on him. 

But oh Gojo looks so pretty, cloudy bangs pulled back to reveal his delicately blushing face, lips painted in a glossy sheen of your slick. Slobbering down, down, down to glisten across the bottom half of his face. Looking so bruised with how greedy he was, almost the same color as those cherry lollipops he loved so much. And his eyes - fuck, his eyes - glassy and half-lidded, hazy with a sheen that told you he was already completely and utterly pussydrunk out of his sanity. 

“Toru…” you start, unable to tear your eyes away from the way he moans at the mere sound of your voice. “Your turn.”

It’s a long endeavor to get rid of Gojo’s pants - or, at least that’s what it feels like. 

Hooking a still-shaky leg over his toned waist, you’re slamming his muscular frame down onto the mattress. Buttons hitting the floor when you all but tear his overpriced button-up off - because, really, it’s not you two if one of you doesn’t get your revenge somehow.

“These- these damn belts.” you scoff, too-eager fingers fumbling with the metal latches of Gojo’s belt. “Why does it have to have so many-”

“You’re so cute when you’re eager this way, silly girl.” he’s cupping the side of your face. Free hand easily unbuckling his belt, and the heady metallic sounds are enough to have your cunt so needy. “Like this-”

You’re gasping when he finally takes his formal dress pants off - along with those uselessly precum-soaked boxers. Sticky and leaving a lewd trail of glossy down his milky, sculpted thighs. 

And oh if you thought Gojo was pretty before then he was a fucking masterpiece right now. All tall, lean muscle that rippled with every minute movement. Curves and dips of sculpted skin being accentuated so perfectly against the dim lightning in your suite. 

So infuriating at how that couldn’t give you a better look at his massive, swollen length. So long and girthy, hefty where his fat head was leaking silky precum all over his abs. Such a delicate pink matching his lips at the head, dancing down, down his thick, prominent veins to those tufts of soaked white at his sharp pelvis. Fuck, he was so big - could you actually take him?

Wrapping your soft palm around Gojo’s furiously throbbing fast, you’re letting him coat you hand in a sinful sheen. And you can’t help but wonder what he’d taste like, too-

“Hold on right there, my dirty girl.” your slowly dipping head is tilted firmly by Gojo. “As much as hngh- fuck you’re squeezing me so tight- as much as this has been fuck- all I’d dreamt of since that office ice cream party. I just know m’gonna cum as soon as you put that smart mouth on me, sweetheart.” He’s kissing gently at your lips, sucking on your lower lip. “And I just know you’re never gonna fuck– let me live that down.”

You smirk, “Not gonna live that ice cream party thing, either, Toru.”

“He flashes you such a devilish smile, steadying your hips to straddle him messily. Spreading your legs on either side of his weepy tip. “Oh, fuck off.”

You hiss when you’re feeling the hot kiss his head is planting on your sensitive pussy lips, “Fuck you.”

“No.” Gojo chuckles, powerful thighs curling up to plant his feet on the mattress. Waiting. Anticipating. “I’m fucking you-”

It’s barely even a warning - laughable, really - how that’s all he’s gifting you with before bullying the very tip of his fat cock into your snug cunt in a sloppy hit. 

He groans, eyes fighting to roll to the back of his head but caught so so greedily on the way you swollen pussy lips are being spread so obscenely to swallow every single inch after fucking inch. Disappearing down into your gooey walls, Gojo’s breath hitches at the first sign of resistance from your too-tight entrance. 

“C’mon now.” he moans gutturally. Hips fucking up in a jagged, slow grind, trying so desperately to plunge himself in deeper. “C’mon c’mon come- on-” 

“Toru!” you’re gasping when he slides his soaked length even deeper. Feeding in to the way your gummy walls want more more more more- “You’re so fuckin’ hngh- impatient.”

“Me?” he’s asking, voice a few octaves higher and dripping with the audacity to sound so genuinely in disbelief. “You’re- you’re saying that I’m impatient. Oh, sweetheart-” you blink back the lusty haze in your eyes to look down at Gojo fully, spying that upwards curl of his lips that you knew didn’t mean well for you right now. “-look down.”

Your eyes widening as you’re whirling downwards to spy the way he’s not even halfway in yet. But that’s not all, no, your poor pussy is just absolutely bulging around his girthy shaft, struggling, stretched to their limits - yet still quivering with the effort to try and milk something delicious out of him. 

And the moment that tiny, shaky gasp leaves your mouth, his sharp hip bones are just crashing into yours. Toned hips lifting off of the bed to drive his achy cock into your drooling cunt. One hand kneads and gropes the flesh of your ass to steady you down, down, down-

“Toru-” you’re moaning, like a mantra, once his angry tip is gliding across the spongy wall of your cervix. The stretch too much, Gojo’s cock so thick in his girth that you could feel each and every sweet spot of yours being dragged down his length. “F-fuck, Toru!”

He chuckles, gritting out through those long, determined grinds. Having himself now fully stuffed inside your cunt, heavy balls kissing at the curve of your ass, pubic hair scratching up against your needy clit.  “Can’t hah- keep quiet, can you? Fuckin’ love how needy she is- how needy you are.”

“Sh-shut up-” you mewl, narrowing your eyes. 

“Hah- I would.” Gojo grins out so smugly. Tilting you precariously on top of him like some ragdoll to easily give your g-spot a mean crash of his greedy head. “But you can’t.”

And of course, he’s proving his own point by bouncing you in a heady, fast tandem, abs burning with the ache to fuck you so rude. Gojo spits once on two of his long, slender fingers, letting this lewd coating smear down to his knuckles before dipping them down to spread your puffy folds even farther. 

“Fuuuck, jus’ look at you.” he rasps, the deep baritone of his voice having your gummy walls mold even harder onto the shape of his cock. Gojo throws his had back, twitching balls squeezing harder with every increasing smack against your ass. “Shit shit shit- how that bastard had you hngh- all to himself and didn’t make th-this pretty pussy come everyday I’ll never understand.” He’s pulling you down with a hand to the back of your neck, tightening, “So don’t we hah- rub it in his ugly face?”

Shit, the thought has you grinding and stuttering your hips down to meet Gojo’s unforgiving cadence, arching your body into him like you couldn’t get enough. 

“You just got- hngh- so impossibly harder at that.” you push his bucking shoulders down onto the mattress. Now fully riding him just as much as he was fucking you into the mattress so animalistically. “And you call me needy.”

He scoffs, “I’m not the only one.” The fingers still lingering on your cunt moving to toy with your pulsing sensitive nub, teasing and toying your clit between two fingers. “Can you just h-hear how loud this pussy of yours is? Bet he can hear too.”

And it was true, the wet smacks were only getting louder. Sloppier. Squelching with the push and pull of Gojo’s pounding cock in the same maddening staccato. 

But still - you weren’t going to be compliant that easily. Feeling the familiar tingles of your high edging closer, you wanted to break him just one more time. “Nah- I don’t think he can.”

“Oh you’re gonna regret that, silly girl.”

In all of two seconds - maybe even less than - Gojo’s using his immense strength to his advantage. Flipping the two of you over so your back is hitting the soaked sheets, droopy legs thrown over your shoulder to plow into you in such a mean mating press he has you folded into. 

The new change in angle makes it even easier for him to be kissing your g-spot. Bruising. Branding his name onto your sweet spots - your cervix - so you wouldn’t forget. So you can’t forget.

“F-fuck, Toru-” you’re letting out staggered gasps every time he rams his hefty cock into you. Fingers still relentless on your clit - playing around with it as much as he was playing with your sanity. “I’m so-”

“What was that?” he interrupts through sloppy, stuttering thrusts. Free hand cupping his ear so goadingly, ‘Can’t hear you, sweetheart.“

“Toru-” you’re squealing over his rapidly accelerating movements. Fighting to babble out coherently, “Toru m’close-”

“Louder.” he’s grinning meanly. Hips burning with slowly fatiguing effort because he’s so close, your slick walls are massaging him so tight. But where’s the fun if there’s no teasing? “Still can’t hear ya.”

Your voice is shot at this point, “Toru, m’gonna cum-”

“Louder or m’not gonna let you.”

“Toru! Fuck fuck fuck m’cumming.” It hits him before those loud moans are even leaving your mouth, because your velvety walls are clamping down so snug. Molding to the shape of him, your heels digging even deeper on his shoulder, nails raking red red patterns down the pale skin of his biceps. “M’cumming- ngh-”

And fuck each and every slam of his hips sends electricity up your spine, bullying you through your high. Dragging it out till you think you could go insane. 

“God- fuck you’re so-” It’s the only hoarse grunt leaving Gojo’s lips before he’s spilling thick rope after rope of seed into the awaiting channel of your pussy. “So perfect f’me.”

Two hands of his lace above your head, pushing you so impossibly deep down his thick hilt. He’s cumming and cumming so hard like he never has in his life, body out of control with the way he’s stuffing you with every drop of seed. 

He shivers at the overspill, gushing out of the corners of your ravaged cunt, painting a creamy ring around his tired base. Too much. And yet mindlessly thrusting even sloppier, catching your lips in a lazy, passionate kiss. “At least we didn’t fuckin’ kill each other, hm?”

You smile into it, slotting your hips languidly, “Didn’t do hgnh- the neighbors any favors, either.”

“It’s Naoya, who fucking cares? ‘Limp dick’ my ass.” And oh how Gojo loved that sweet sweet smile gracing your lips, the way your eyes light up all because of him. He can’t help but drawl out, “Y’know…since we were locked up in this room for all three days, and have most of the day tomorrow, how about you and I actually do some sightseeing here before we leave?” 

You nod eagerly, tightening your legs around his waist and shit, this might just be heaven. “We need a break after that contract, s’gonna be so fun.”

He’s connecting his sticky forehead with yours, “Of course it will be, I’ll be there.” Babbling deliriously, drunk off the way you’re leveling him with another one of your familiar glares, “And we can use Yaga’s care, too, he never checks-”

“Toru…” you warn when Gojo cuts himself off with a gasp. Quirking an irritated brow - as you usually did when you’re with him, “Don’t tell me you’ve been dipping into Yaga’s card, he’ll kill you if he finds out. That’s if I don’t kill you first.”

“...”

“...Toru…”

“Is this a bad time to tell you that I booked us this suite with it too?”

A/N. My red flag is making Naoya the shitty ex in every piece of writing I do (or is that a green flag hmmm?)

Plagiarism not authorized.

[incorrectbatfam]

Duke: I love these new WayneTech phones.

Jason: Take one.

Duke: What?

Jason: Take it home. I do it all the time. They have plenty, trust me.

Bruce, entering: Plenty of what?

Jason: Plenty of fish sticks in the cafeteria. He was asking if they're out.

Bruce: If they're all out, I'll tell you they're all out, alright?

Bruce: *leaves*

Duke: Jason, I'm not gonna steal from the company.

Jason: If you came over to my safehouse, you'd see my whole setup is Wayne Enterprises stuff. The electronics, the furniture, the salt and pepper shakers.

Duke: Are you serious?

Jason: Steph, do you ever take stuff home from here?

Stephanie: I take the gala champagne glasses home. Give 'em away as gifts. It's a perk.

Jason: It's like a monthly bonus.

Duke: It's stealing! Tim wouldn't do it.

Tim: Do what?

Duke: Take Wayne Enterprises stuff home.

Tim: No, but I do keep a bunch of clean coffee mugs in the trunk of my car and I bring them in every day for Bruce to check and then I put them back so I don't have to wash the dishes in the break room.

[sistertotheknowitall]

Danny is Some Guy with a not so secret admirer.

Part four? Post #four? I don’t know, none of these are exactly in order. Post one, post two, post three.

——

By the time Tim opened the door, Danny had his coffee made and handed to Mia at the register. He resolutely ignored her smug face and went back to making the other orders.

Tim had been a regular long before Danny had started at the coffee shop but it was three days into Danny’s third week when Tim had stumbled in at eight a.m. and did a double take upon seeing Danny. A very obvious double take followed by intense staring before Mia had cleared her throat. The blush that lit up Tim’s face was only rivaled by the one on Danny’s.

He had never had anyone openly stare at him before.

Mia had been insufferable ever since.

It also didn’t help that shortly after their first meeting Tim had started taking his breaks at the little coffee shop. It’s been three weeks, nearly a month and Wayne Enterprise’s CEO went from a bi-weekly regular to an everyday one. (Danny wondered if he should be concerned for the man’s caffeine intake but he only had the one cup every time so probably not.)

Originally, Danny had no plans to talk to Tim. It seemed obvious the guy had a crush on Danny if the constant looks over his laptop were anything to go by and Danny didn’t want to encourage it. Danny barely had time to make new friends let alone start a relationship.

There was also the added problem of what was quickly becoming his bat stalkers. How do you explain to someone that you were being watched by Gotham’s vigilante’s for no reason? (Or worse because he had made a poorly timed sleep-deprived comment.) Danny didn’t think you could without seeming suspicious.

Incidentally though, Danny’s plan went out the window when on a slow afternoon as he was cleaning tables and passed behind Tim. Once he saw the article the other man was reading he snorted.

Bruce Wayne and The Batman? Could This Be A New Romance For Gothams Most Beloved Billionaire?

It was one of those gossip rags that printed things like: Elvis: alive and well and Superman: a mild mannered farm boy? It was all nonsense.

Danny asked Tim why he bothered with the site and Tim responded that he found it amusing to read and that his family had a group chat where they sent the articles to each other.

“Okay. But Batman? Really? Your dad could do so much better.”

“You don’t like Batman?” Tim asked. Danny had slid into the chair next to him and shrugged. “I respect what he does but for as intimidating as he is, he also seems a little silly.”

Tim had given him an incredulous look and Danny hadn’t given him time to ask for an explanation, “and his kids can be just as rude. Like that flying monkey one.” Tim choked on air and Danny politely waited for him to calm down. “Kids? Wait - flying monkey one? Which one -?”

“The one always doing back flips with the blue bird symbol. He’s also a dick that gives hypocritical lectures about fighting.” Danny wouldn’t say he hated the guy but he wasn’t sure how many more lectures he could endure before going ghost and fighting him.

Tim had turned to Danny completely and was watching him with a look of disbelief, “you mean Nightwing?”

“Is that his name? Imma call him Dickwing.”

Tim had started choking again, this time Danny patted his back hoping to help. Yet it was all for not once he kept talking, “I think I’ve only had positive interactions with the one who looks like a walking red flag.”

“Red flag? Do you men hood-?”

“No, although he is definitely a red flag, I mean the other Red one. I’m sorry, I don’t know all these peoples names yet.”

“Danny!” Mia called.

Danny stood and patted Tim, who looked a little shell-shocked, on the shoulder. “Well work calls, see you later Mr. Drake-Wayne.” As he walked away he heard Tim mutter “it’s just Tim.”

(Tim for his part, placed his head in his hands and thought, well at least I have his name now.)

After that first interaction Tim stopped playing the lurker and started to actually talk to Danny and vise versa. Danny never asked if he still had a crush on him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Unfortunately, their growing friendship had only encoraged Mia as she happily sang “your boyfriend’s here!”

Danny, very maturely, did not stick his tongue out at her. He did however flip her off under the counter like an adult.

[flwrkid14]

The Tim Drake Heartthrob Conspiracy

It started as a slow, creeping suspicion. A few throwaway comments here, a couple of odd interactions there. At first, no one thought much of it.

One day, Dick was grabbing coffee near Wayne Enterprises when he overheard two interns chatting in line. “I saw Tim Drake today, and let me tell you, I think I’ve developed a new celebrity crush,” one of them said, giggling.

Dick nearly choked on his iced latte. Tim? Celebrity crush? He shook it off, chalking it up to the occasional corporate crush, nothing out of the ordinary for someone who runs a massive company. But then he heard it again the next week at a Titan’s briefing. Garfield leaned over to him during a meeting, nodding toward Tim across the room.

“Man, Tim’s really come into his own, huh? Guy’s kinda a looker now,” Gar commented.

Dick blinked, then frowned. “Wait, what?”

“Oh, come on, Nightwing,” Gar teased, “you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed! The quiet broody thing is working for him. I bet half of Gotham has a crush on him.”

By the time Dick got back to Gotham, the gears were turning in his head. Did half of Gotham have a crush on Tim?

Then it happened again. This time it was Damian’s turn.

He had been sparring with Jon in the Batcave, when their conversation drifted, as it often did. “You ever think about what it would be like to date someone like Tim?” Jon asked, completely out of the blue.

Damian froze, mid-punch. “What?”

“I mean, he’s smart, right? Responsible, kinda low-key. Would probably make a great boyfriend,” Jon continued, completely oblivious to the growing horror on Damian’s face.

“Grayson and Todd, are enough. I refuse to let another sibling of mine become Gotham’s romantic fascination!” Damian exclaimed later that night at the dinner table. The others laughed, assuming Damian was just being overly dramatic, as usual.

But the seed had been planted.

It didn’t take long for the other Batfamily members to start picking up on the signs.

Steph first noticed when she logged onto a Wayne Enterprises fan forum (because yes, those exist) and saw a thread that was simply titled, “Tim Drake’s Glow-Up Appreciation Post”. The page was filled with comments fawning over him—talking about his “sharp jawline,” his “dark, mysterious aura,” and how “charming” he was during interviews.

Naturally, Steph sent the link to Cass with a laughing emoji. “Look at our boy, growing up into Gotham’s next heartbreaker,” she joked.

But as more and more of these comments popped up in the oddest places, Steph’s joking tone faded. Was Tim really the next heartthrob?

The realization hit Jason last, as most things concerning Tim usually did. He was scrolling through his usual online haunts, browsing forums that discussed Gotham’s vigilantes, when he stumbled on something unusual.

A post titled: Top 10 Reasons Why Red Robin is the Best Looking Vigilante in Gotham.

Jason almost clicked out of it immediately, assuming it was some kind of joke. But no. There were paragraphs. Analysis. Photos that somehow made Tim look like a damn model, even in his ridiculous Red Robin cape.

Jason scrolled through in disbelief, not sure what he was more stunned by: the fact that people were thirsting after Tim, or that someone had gone to this much effort to explain why he was hot.

“That’s it. The internet is officially broken,” Jason muttered to himself, before sending a screenshot to the family group chat with the caption: Since when did Tim become a fashion icon?

The real kicker, though, was Alfred. After weeks of the Batfamily casually throwing around jokes about Tim’s newly discovered “status,” Alfred finally made his observation one morning over breakfast.

“Master Timothy has always had a certain quiet charm about him,” Alfred said as he served coffee, completely unbothered by the ensuing chaos.

Dick, nearly spilling his coffee: “Wait, you knew about this? Why didn’t you say something?”

Alfred raised a brow. “It hardly seemed necessary. I assumed you all were already aware of Master Timothy’s appeal.”

Appeal. Appeal.

Jason was laughing so hard he had to leave the room, while Steph and Cass exchanged glances that said everything: they needed to re-evaluate everything about their little brother.

The whole Batfamily was still coming to terms with it. They joked, they teased, but there was an undeniable shift. When they looked at Tim now, they saw what others had apparently been seeing for years—a quietly confident, strikingly intelligent young man who had somehow grown into one of Gotham’s most eligible bachelors.

Of course, the moment that really sealed the deal came when Tim rode into the Batcave one evening on his Red Bird bike, wearing hastily thrown on stylish outfit—a black leather jacket, perfectly fitted jeans, and a shirt that gave him a casual, yet effortlessly cool look. Running a hand through his still damp hair, a look of mild annoyance on his face.

“Sorry, I’m running late. Got a date.”

For a moment, the Batfamily just stared.

Holy. Shit.

And then, as if on cue, Dick, Steph, Cass, Duke, Jason, and even Damian had the same thought at the same time: Oh my God, Tim Drake is the Batfamily’s biggest heartthrob.

The realization was almost too much to handle.

[sunshine-and-kookies]

UNHINGED (m)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Summary-> The corporate recession has your company grovelling for funds.

As the relegated chief operating officer, you have to bear the brunt of seeking out an enterprising and successful shareholder who can revive your company for posterity.

As a sorry state of affairs, you're compelled to enlist the CEO of Jeon Enterprise for his help. However, The question remains.

Just how much convincing are you willing to do?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Part: 1 of 2

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Pairing: Yandere Jeongguk x Female Reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Yandere

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Warnings for both parts: Power Imbalance, Blackmailing, Manipulation, inebriation, smut, fingering, groping, penetration, some nasty stuff, light choking, a few corporate jargons, jk is a dick who is smitten with oc, jk is selfish asf, threats of violence (not against OC).

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Word count: 2.1k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Disclaimer: This is a two-shot which delves into themes that may be triggering or dark in nature. It is important to note that the behaviors portrayed by Jungkook are purely fictional and do not reflect his real-life character. Reader discretion is advised. Minors are discouraged from engaging with this content. Remember, plagiarism is a serious offense.

“©© All rights reserved to @sunshine-and-kookies. No translations permitted without explicit authorization.”

°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°

"This is unbelievable", you lament, hunched over your desk.

"How did the stocks plummet so much?"

"Miss. L/N, The stock market is a gamble." Mr. Kwon offers.

"I am aware of that Mr. Kwon. But the risks we took were calculated." You massage your temples, grumbling defensively under your breath.

The predicament at hand induced mixed emotions in you. On one hand, you were anxious. Anxious for the employees who have a family to fend for, the news headlines they'll be witnessing and the confrontation you'll need to have with the stakeholders.

On the other, less dominant hand, you felt uncannily relieved.

Ever since your company, Jubilee and Co, invested in the share market with you at the helm, you've been waiting for something to go awry.

Simply, because you couldn't fathom anything remotely auspicious happening under your leadership. Not because you didn't have faith in your capabilities. No.

It was because you've gotten the short end of the stick from life so often that you've grown accustomed to it.

And now that your trepidations have borne fruit, you feel the weight being lifted off your shoulders.

Gingerly clutching the cup of coffee perched on your table, you take a sip. This was not the time to wallow in self pity.

"Mr. Kwon, prepare an excel sheet that has all the consolidated data of the company's capital. We can't afford any delays. I have to begin looking for plausible shareholders."

You could feel the soreness kicking in, as you knead the knots in your shoulder.

It was gonna be a long day.

..............................................................................................................................

You peer at your phone's self camera for the umpteenth time.

Huffing, as you rake your fingers through your hair. Everything about your outfit seemed off but scrounging for a better one would take an eternity. You were living on borrowed time as it is.

"Miss. Y/N L/N, Mr. Jeon is ready for you."

You stand upright, hands clenching the portfolio in your hand futilely, your heels scuffing across the floor of the hallway.

Navigating through the huge corridor, you spot the door of the room where the incumbent CEO sits.

Knocking lightly, you speak "Mr Jeon?"

"Come in."

His husky voice beckons.

Drawing in a shaky breath, you step into the room.

And as soon as you do, you're rendered awestruck by the cabin.

It has expansive floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a panoramic view of the bustling city below.

The golden hour sunlight streaming in through the blinds.

The walls, adorned with exquisite golden motifs, which no doubt must have cost a fortune.

Fitting for a billionaire like him, you suppose.

Right in the center of the room is a rich mahogany desk, cluttered with documents.

Perched behind the desk is Jeon Jeongguk, the formidable CEO of Jeon Enterprises. It is renowned globally as the only firm which deals with technological ergonomics. Their unparalleled success transcended borders, setting the standard worldwide.

Needless to say, Jubilee and Co was a far cry from Jeon Enterprises.

You've read enough tabloids about the cold, formidable CEO to know what might transpire.

On behalf of your company's stakeholder, you'll ask him for help. He'll eye you incredulously, disdain marring his face before he politely calls the security guard to escort this deranged woman out.

You're taking a leap of faith coming here and hoping a tech tycoon like him even spares you a glance.

You hear him take a sharp intake of breath, prompting you to look at him.

His mouth was slightly agape, eyes widened, as he stared at you from across the room.

His gaze trailed your dainty form from top to bottom, eyes darkening the more they consume you.

You shudder.

You should have taken time to look for a more flattering outfit. Or maybe your hair was dishevelled?

Clearing your throat, you politely ask him, "May I take a seat, Mr Jeon?"

Caught off guard, Mr. Jeon suddenly stands up before motioning for you to sit.

"Please do, Miss...?"

"Y/N L/N." , you supply.

"Y/N..." His dulcet voice repeats your name, as though in a trance.

There was an eerie tension in the room but you would be damned if you let it get to you and lose this golden opportunity.

"As the chief operating officer, I'm here to represent Jubilee and Co."

This was it.

This was the part where you'll be catapulted out of the building by big and buff security men--

"How may I be of assistance to Jubilee and Co. today?"

You blanch.

Out of all outcomes you were expecting would ensue your introduction, this was the most unexpected one.

You were not prepared for this, how do you broach the proposal of an alliance now?

Quickly gathering yourself, you resume.

"We are honoured you have decided to give us the time of the day, Mr Jeon."

"Don't mention." His tone, though professional, betrayed a hint of eagerness.

"From what I presume, you're here to ask for an affiliation." He continues.

"Your stakeholders want Jubilee and Co to become a subsidiary under Jeon Enterprises."

You were tongue tied.

Mr. Jeon was an astute man. You'll give him that.

"Yes, sir. That is correct."

"And why, exactly, should I invest in a company that is, for a lack of better word, in shambles? Inundated with abysmal employees", He rejoinders.

You wince. No matter how true his word were, they were acerbic.

Jubilee was like a baby to you.

You've gone through hell to make it transition from a tier 3 brand name to a decently esteemed firm. You've spent countless sleepless nights looking after it, skipped meals to tend to it's wounds.

Chagrined, you speak before your brain can process your words.

"I understand your concerns, Mr. Jeon. But Jubilee is more than just its current state. It's a testament to resilience, to the countless hours of dedication and hard work put in by its employees, including myself."

Your gaze meets his, vulnerability shining in your eyes.

"Yes, we may have faced setbacks, but we've also overcome them. I believe that adversity often presents the greatest opportunities for growth. I understand your reservations, Mr. Jeon, but I urge you to consider the untapped potential within Jubilee. With the right investments and guidance, I firmly believe that it has the potential to rise from its current situation and flourish once again."

A hush falls over the room.

Jeongguk's gaze remained unwavering, fixed on your face throughout your entire tirade.

"Consider me convinced, Miss. Y/N."

"S-Sir?"

"I guarantee. Jubilee's stock will be restored, funds will be augmented, and brand reputation will be unrivalled. The employees that will henceforth be inducted will be recruited by my personal hiring team."

You can barely hear the rest of his sentence, already thrumming with excitement. Your mind plotting all the ways you can get back at the naysayers.

The resurgence of Jubilee is inevitable, now that you have Jeongguk on board.

"But, you must understand Y/N, there are no free lunches in this world."

And just like that all your dreams come crashing down.

"Pardon, sir?"

Mr. Jeon gracefully rises from his chair, closing the proximity between the both of you as he leans on the front of the desk, positioned directly in front of you.

"I'll accede to all your demands, but I want a fair trade."

Mr. Jeon's words hang in the air. You had hoped for a smooth negotiation, where was this coming from?

"What kind of fair trade are you suggesting, Mr. Jeon?"

A knowing smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he meets your gaze.

"I'll provide my expertise, my resources, to ensure Jubilee's revival," he begins.

"But in return, I ask for something beyond the confines of business."

There is a tacit silence enveloping the room.

The implication of his suggestion is glaringly blatant.

Situations like these were rife in the corporate world. Pleasure in exchange for business gains was not unheard of.

What was however, unheard of, was an employee of Jubilee engaging in such lewd dalliances.

While they were definitely slacking and inept when it comes to work and strategies, Jubilee has maintained a pristine image of possessing the most morally sound employees.

You are caught in a mire.

On one hand, you are disgruntled that he thought you were so shallow that you'll take him up on an offer as promiscuous as that.

But on the other hand, you are convinced this is your only shot at reviving Jubilee. Jungkook's assets and team marshalled together will undoubtedly take Jubilee to unprecedented heights.

"We have a deal, Mr. Jeon."

..............................................................................................................................

"Jeongguk, stop please! Not now, I have to get ready for a meeting."

"I don't renege on my promises, baby girl." He hums, biting your lower lip as his hands fondle your clothed chest.

"And I expect the same from you, yeah?"

The past few months have been very conducive for Jubilee.

As expected, with Jeongguk's acumen & assistance, the company is practically thriving, now in a league comparable to the unicorns.

And it had to be. You've traded yourself for its prosperity after all.

"Fuck", the expletive rolls off your tongue as a strangled moan.

His palms knead the flesh as he grinds his hips on your clothed pussy.

"You're so pretty, my baby. Got me wrapped around your little finger like a hormonal fucking teenager."

He grunts in your ear as one of his hands find purchase on your hip, the other smoothly lifting your pencil skirt to stroke your thigh.

"Kook, I c-can't"

He is terse as he pants, "Yes, you can. You will do everything I ask you to, am I clear?"

"Y-Yeah"

"Good girl" He dotes.

Unbuttoning your top and latching his tongue onto your now bare nipple.

"Stop teasing Kook, touch me already. I'm so fuckin' wet"

He grins as he resumes his ministrations on your inner thigh, cheekily peering up at you from where he is stationed, between your breasts.

"Someone's needy."

You huff exasperated, placing a hand on his as you halt him.

"Fine, I'll just ask Taehyung for help. He won't deny me anyways."

All air escapes you as you're suddenly jerked, your bare back meeting the wall with a thud.

You open your eyes at the sudden movement.

Jeongguk's laborious breath is laden with ire.

Eyes closed. Jaw clenched.

His previous playful beam, nowhere to be found.

He takes in a deep breath before opening his eyes.

They're the darkest you've ever seen them. Pupils enlarged to an extent that his eyes appear pitch black.

You fucked up.

His hand comes up as he lightly chokes you, not enough to hurt you but enough to cause a pool of wetness dripping down your thighs in its wake.

"Say shit like that one more time and see me burn that fucker alive."

"You have the fucking audacity to even think of another man, when yours is right in front of you? Don't you fucking forget who you belong to Y/N. You're fucking mine. Body, Heart and Soul. You've sworn your loyalty to me. You've surrendered yourself to me completely the day I agreed to buy that shitty company of yours."

Your panties are completely drenched at this point and you're unsure if its because you're turned on or petrified of how vexed he has become by the mere thought of you with another man, even though you had said it in jest.

Without any preamble, his fingers prod at your entrance as he sinks them in. Your walls embracing him like second skin.

"Even your tight little pussy isn't yours anymore. It belongs to Jeon Jungkook.”

He slaps your pussy immediately after, as though proving his point.

“And I don't fucking share, so you better pray to any deity you worship that I don't fucking catch you masturbating or so help me god."

He fingers you passionately. Not stopping even after you plead him to.

"T-Too sensitive, K-Kook."

Unbuckling his belt, He pulls out his penis. It stands tall, proud and red with pre cum oozing out of the tip.

You grab him for stability as he pushes the tip in, letting your walls adjust and clamp before he brutally picks up his pace.

"Tell me who you belong to." He bellows.

Too out of it, you fail to form a coherent response.

THWACK.

He slaps your ass hard.

Once. Twice. Too many times to count.

"I-I'm yours Koo, only yours." you manage to say, eager to cajole him.

"Damn right you are." He hums, seemingly placated with your answer. Picking up his pace, he spits in your mouth, meshing his tongue with yours, while his fingers play with your clit.

You feel the familiar warmth below your cervix, as you groan,

"C-Cumming"

He gently pats your hair, kissing your earlobe.

"Let go, baby."

As you ride off your high, too blissful to pay attention to your surroundings, you don't notice the way Jeongguk's gaze darkens.

............................................................................................................................

Part: 1 of 2

“©© All rights reserved to @sunshine-and-kookies. No translations permitted without explicit authorization.”

[gaddaboutgriffon]

The Year of the Dragon.

(Name edited, credit to @jedipirateking for the suggestion.)

A joke the fandom has been making for a while is that Tim is forever stuck at 17. What if we make that something the rest of the Batclan notice too? (I am not following cannon.)

It was just after the annual Family picture day and the new group portrait was taking the place of last year’s and looking at it they noticed 15 year old Damian is now almost the same height as Tim. And Tim is pretty much the same as last year.

Jason and Damian take the opportunity to tease Tim calling him a shrimp and other short jokes. Which Tim rolls his eyes and goes to work on a case or something with Wayne industries. But Bruce, Dick, and Alfred are more concerned, may feel guilty thinking letting him be a vigilante stunted his growth. And looking back at the photos they have of him notice that he wasn’t growing as much as a normal teen boy should have.

Bruce decides he is going to be more active in running Wayne Enterprises while Alfred plots to cut back Tim’s coffee limit. And Dick is going to help out coordinate the patrols. (He had to move back to Gotham when the Bludhaven city spirit forced all the people out before the city got blown up. It’s a long story but dick has been really down and unmotivated after that.)

Tim is not taking any of this well, and feels like his family being stifling. So he decided to start going through the basement and vault of Drake manor. Which he has been putting off since he didn’t really have time for it between patrols and WE. And in the family heirlooms vault, shoved way in the back with covered in dust and many other things sitting on top, he finds an oak box with an ornately caved dragon on it. Opening it up he finds it is velvet lined and has a large pendant that looks a silver dragon curled deep violet amethyst egg. And next to the pendant is a scroll made of thin leather.

He pulled out the scroll first and tried to read it but it was too faint of lettering to make out in the somewhat dim vault light. But what little he could make out it it was really old 14th century English and mentioned something about a coming of age. He rolls it back up and puts it aside to instead pick up the pendant. When he touches it there is a faint static shock that surprises him other then that the silver and purple necklace doesn’t seem out of the ordinary.

His phone lets off a chime to remind him that diner is in an hour, so he pack the pendant and scroll back in the box and places it in his bag with a few other items he finds interesting and wanted to look into more later. Then returns to Wayne manor to eat before patrol. It isn’t until he wakes up the next morning he realizes that he should have probably read the scroll before touching the pendant.

He wakes up to knocking on his bedroom door and someone yelling at him to get up. He had gotten into the habit of locking his door back when Damian first moved in. He yelps in surprise, falling over because his center of balance is all out of whack when he tried to stand. Now he is fully awake and takes stock of himself.

Scales?

Scales! Why are his arms covered in scales?! His hands look like a mix of paws and talons. He struggles out of the sheets to look at the rest of himself. His pjs are stretched and torn in places to accommodate the new digigrade shape of his legs. Not to mention he now has a long tail and wings and a longer neck. He rushes to his personal bathroom and awkwardly stands up on his two legs so he can get a good look in the mirror. And yep that is a distressed dragon face looking back at him. He catches himself making a weird keening sound as he plops down to sit on the bathroom floor.

Moments later he hears the sound of his bedroom door’s lock being picked. Bruce calling his name and Duke explaining he had heard animal noises from the room. Tim scrabbles to try and get the balcony door unlocked so he can escape and find a way to change back before anyone can see him, but moving on all fours and the new talon hands he is not used too take up too much time and the bedroom door is open.

Living in a family of vigilantes, their reaction time and fight or flight instincts are quick, and Tim is tackled to the floor by Duke while the others start looking at every inch of the room for clues as to what happened to their seemingly missing brother.

Bruce is looking at the dragon in Tim’s pajamas for a second before saying, “Tim? Is that you chum?”

Tim tries to answer but all that comes out is a warbling chuff. Which takes Tim by surprise and has him nearly start to cry in panic. He can’t Talk!

“Hey, you’re ok Tim. Deep breaths. Duke get off him. Breath with me Tim. In 1, 2, 3, 4. Out 1, 2, 3, 4.” Bruce spoke in his soothing a scared child voice. Tim was half annoyed at himself for how much it helped.

“B, Look at this!” Dick said holding the box with the scroll and dragon pendent instead open. Now the gem is a very pale see through purple with only a sliver on the bottom the original color.

They take it down to the bat cave and get to work deciphering the scroll. Turns out the Drake family line are descendants of some ancient medieval prince named Aragorn and that there was a family tradition that on the sixteenth birthday the child would have to live a year in dragon form to let it catch up in maturity. But after the dragon form catches up they will be able to freely shift between forms. But if they don’t follow the tradition they don’t age properly, and the longer they put off the tradition the longer they have to spend as a dragon.

And that is all I had time for before bed. So who does this affect the family dynamic? What about the relationship between Tim and Damian? How do we bring Danny Phantom into this? Does he think Tim is a ghost dragon at first?

[nosyrobin]

BEING THE TWIN BROTHER OF BRUCE WAYNE WHO…..

Uncle!reader who wears glasses to keep from being mistaken for his brother Bruce Wayne. The four boys his brother adopted keep mistakenly calling him father or dad, even Bruce.

Uncle!reader who tried to bend down to reach things, but the boys already got it for you, scared you might pop a hip bone out.

Uncle!reader who always gets spoiled rotten by the batboys. Always making sure their uncle is fine before he leaves the manor to his own small house that he loves. The boys and Bruce, and even Alfred visit the other Wayne to his small house. Making the small house feel alive and not lonely.

Uncle!reader who says he never has favorites. Which he’s true as he pets all the boy’s heads before talking to them about his day.

Uncle!reader who always got asked to live in the manor ever since dick was the first robin. Dick was scared that his new uncle would die alone..making the poor baby boy cry all night as Bruce has to call his brother to come over to sleep. When you arrived, dick calmed down and slept in your arms as Bruce just smiled.

Uncle!reader who Jason loves a lot. Jason loves his uncle because they talk about fantasy worlds when he was young. When Jason got older, he always visited his uncle’s house far away after his death. But when he came out clean about coming back to life, he started to live a little bit in the warm house of his uncle.

Uncle!reader who Tim always drink coffee with in the morning, talk about WE enterprises and his wonky dreams. Tim ask for pointer tips on business, fighting skills, and even life experiences for his future.

Uncle!reader who Damian can’t help but cling to a little bit more than his own blood father. Damian may have confused you when you didn’t have your glasses. But it didn’t stop him from asking you advice.

Uncle!reader who covers for Bruce when he can’t be Batman. Who always have one of the boys by his side, no matter what as dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian watch their uncle carefully. They do this to their uncle as their beloved uncle had never really fight crime before.

Uncle!reader who Bruce, his own twin brother. Bruce always makes sure that you aren’t alone. not even the slightest as he calls up on you regularly. Not wanting his true hold to his only sanity fade away from him as he smiles hearing your voice. Talking about your day and much.

Uncle!reader who is loved, loved to the point that you can’t help but help the boys and your brother no matter what.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Alley Boyfriends Part 3

Tim has to say that the interior designers had outdone themselves. He knew he was paying good money for them, but he made it a bit difficult by only giving them three days to create a concept to decorate his new penthouse.

While the cleaning and moving crew was hard at work getting everything settled at their old apartments, Danny and Tim looked over designs for their penthouse.

Tim had never really paid much attention to his living space theme or style, having always lived by a minimalist mindset that his parents preferred. But Danny had been insistent that his home had to have life, and minimalistic spaces made him feel like he was staying in a hotel, no matter how fancy.

He vetoed everything that had "simple," "neutral," or "modern" in the description offers. The agent, the interior designer team, had sent to represent them had also brought three tablets filled with examples of their offered packages. They were to pick which one they wanted, and the team would create a concept so no two places were alike for their customers.

The team would do the colors, furniture, and textures, but they had a right to write in demands, such as Danny's not wanting anything painted white or Tim's desire for a soft carpet in all rooms but the bathrooms and kitchen.

Tim was given his tablet- Each one was synced to the agent's primary tablet, which would have the answers to the surveys or personal notes that the boys made- to click through the same list as Danny, but he didn't bother with his own. The themes all looked the same to him unless it was ridiculous- Harry Potter, Wonderland, and Atlantis, to name a few.

It is nothing he hasn't seen before.

On the other hand, Danny had never had someone decorate for him; as someone who grew up in the mid to low-level middle class, his household had always been mismatched furniture that balanced well together.

He looked like an excited puppy, eyes wide as he clicked through photo after photo, asking Tim's opinion every so often. The agent, Tyrone, was happy to answer any question he may have, seemingly pleased that someone appreciated his work as much as Danny did.

Tim had watched him struggle between Hollywood Glam and Regency, so he recommended Hollywood Regency Interior Design, knowing one of Wayne Enterprises Board members had mentioned it beforehand.

It wasn't so garish that Tim hated it, but it had just the right amount of elegancy and "someone lives here" vibe that Danny was searching for.

He watched in real-time as Danny's eyes lit up in joy as he showed him the image on the tablet.

Tim had never cared for how his living space was decorated. Still, after seeing his friend grow excited to flip through example photos and chatting with Tyrone over color palettes and furniture, he realized that Hollywood Regency was likely his new favorite style.

"The main color has to be green," Danny chirped, tapping his finger against different shades of the mentioned color.

"A dark emerald green would be perfect," Tyrone responded, switching his tablet to a series of dark-looking designs, but Danny shook his head without looking at them.

"No, something lighter and brighter."

"Why?" Tim asked, thinking the emerald green gave it a more elegant air. Absentmindedly, he sips the coffee Danny brought from his work. It settles in his gut with a warm, comforting feeling, happy that he was the first to try the new seasonal offerings.

Danny gave him an exclusive one week before they hit the menu, and Tim can die happy. This season, they are a Young Justice theme.

Impulse Lavender Expersso was heavenly. He can't wait to see Bart's reaction when they get announced.

Danny looked at him as if he were crazy. "Green is your favorite color. Of course, we need to have that for the wall painting."

Tim blinks, stunned by the response. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. How had Danny known green was his favorite color? He can only take a longer sip, and he feels even warmer. Tyrone coughs, trying very hard to hide a smile as he flips his tablet around. "How about this one, Mr. Fenton?"

"That's the one! fern green, it looks cool, right Tim?"

Tim considered the images. "It does, but it's a bit too plain."

"We can add golden trimming on the walls," Tyrone immediately suggested, showing them some images that Danny oohed and ahhed to. I know you said you didn't want white, Mr. Fenton, so golden would be the next best option."

"Hmm." Danny considered it before nodding, "Yeah, it looks lovely. Will the furniture also be golden?"

"A few pieces, yes, but to really balance the feeling of the room, I was thinking more of white like this."

Tim zoned out as Danny and Tyrone chatted, picking up the SuperBoy Crusher Coffee.

Eventually, Danny told Tyrone to make the final decision as long as it had some shades of green and was in that style. They handed over the address, gave Tyrone access to the apartment, and continued their lives.

Tim and Danny had not seen the penthouse pass some images on the for sale posting. Now standing in their new home, Tim found himself utterly impressed.

Tyrone was going to get a lot more business from him, that was for sure. He couldn't wait for Danny to see it.

Now that I think about it, where is Danny? Tim wondered, walking over to the large window overlooking the city. He was supposed to be here an hour ago. Did he miss his train?

He reaches for his phone, wondering if the new route needs to be clarified for his friend. But before he can click on the call button, it starts to ring. Danny's grinning face flashes across his screen, and his very special ringtone blares from the speakers.

Danny programmed it to Poltergiest after hearing the song while making some Halloween-themed coffees to submit to the Heart Attack employee contest. If he won, he would get a big bonus, and his drink would be added to the October promotion.

Tim had been his happy test subject.

Tim answers the phone in a flash. "Danny? Where are you?"

There is a huff of irritation on the other line. The blaring of speeding cars and wind tells Tim his fake boyfriend is likely outside somewhere. " Tim! You won't believe this! The doorman of our new building won't let me in! He thinks I'm lying about living here. Apparently, I'm not dressed fancy enough. Can you believe it?!"

The CEO thinks about Danny's entire closet, which is made entirely of worn-down T-shirts and faded jeans. It's nothing too bad, but he can see why the doorman would think Danny wasn't among the rich highbrows of the people living in this building.

Knowing Danny's shockingly quick temper, the man probably fought with the doorman, too.

He sighs, heading toward the door and picking up his keys and wallet. "I'll be right down. Hold tight"

Neither bothers hanging up, primarily out of habit, whenever Tim is brave enough to call Danny for some secret coffee fix. He would go quiet if his siblings happened to wander close. Danny just liked having someone exist with him, so silence on the phone call was no issue to him.

Keeping the phone pressed to his ear, he can hear Danny walking back to the entrance, smug in every playable as he taunts, "Just wait until Tim gets here. His coffee is getting cold, and he will definitely blame you."

He walks a little faster, pressing hard on the elevator button, and taps his foot a bit as he zooms down. The doors barely slide open when Tim jogs out of them, rushing to the entrance, where he can see Danny and the doorman, Josh, having a standoff.

Faintly, Tim can pick up the sound of a deep, annoyed grunt. "You again? I told you to get out of here before I called the police-"

If Danny gets arrested, I've never heard Bruce's end of it. Tim panics, turning his jog into a sprint and bursting through the front door to shout, "Danny is my roommate!"

'Josh's jaw drops as Danny cackles, "See! I do, too, live here!"

It doesn't seem to compute in the employee's mind, eyes ranking up and down Danny's coffee-stain outfit. He looks even plainer than normal, which doesn't help his claims one bit. "You live here...with Mr. Drake...dressed like that?"

A frown forms on Danny's face, his eyes flashing with anger, but Tim is quick to step in. He pushes his roommate back while taking the travel mug with the Heart Attack logo out of his hand. It wouldn't be due if Danny flung it into Josh's face.

This was all Tim's fault. He should have realized that Danny would need to learn how things were done in these settings. "He does! I'm sorry about this, Danny. I'll make sure it never happens again."

Josh's face turned pasty white as more smugness dropped over Danny's expression. He leans sideways so he can look into the brown eyes of the doorman without Tim blocking him. "You hear that? Tim is going to talk to your boss-"

Tim tugs Danny's arm, glancing down at his wristwatch. "If we run, we can get to the stores before they close."

Josh and Danny froze, whipping their heads in Tim's direction with confusion. "What?"

Not knowing why they were reacting like that, Tim could only blink in bewilderment. Isn't it obvious? "I'm going to buy you an entire new wardrobe."

If anything, that only seemed to daze Danny as he slowly turned towards Tim with even wider eyes. "What?"

Why was he acting like this? A new wardrobe would make him look the part, and Danny would be able to get into their house without issue. Slowly, Tim explains, "If Josh here thought you weren't dressed the part, I can fix that. My favorite suit place closes in two hours, but we need to have your measurements done, so we may have thirty minutes if we want to come home with a suit today. We have to go!"

He finished his explanation while dragging Danny to the garage parking lot where his car was parked.

Danny stumbles after him, still in a rather large daze, yelps, "Wait, isn't this a bit much?"

Tim rolls his eyes, chugging the coffee with his other hand. He never lets go of Danny's wrist. "You give me the one thing keeping me going in these dark times. Nothing is too much for you."

Danny makes a strange noise in the back of his throat but eventually stops resisting, following Tim with a light chuckle. "It's not that big of a deal, Tim."

"It is."

( Neither is close enough to hear Josh muttering to himself as the terror of losing his well-paying job flashes before his eyes. "That was Mr.Drak's sugar baby. I better tell the rest of the staff before someone gets fired for insulting him." )

Various people document their shopping trips, and by the time they stumble home, Tim's phone is blowing up with messages from his family.

If anything, this does wonders for their fake dating plan.

Tim glances up from his screen, smiling at his friend's expression of wonder as he turns in slow circles.

He typed a quick response, only letting them know not to worry before throwing his phone over his shoulder, knowing it would land on the couch cushions. "How about a tour? I'll let you pick your favorite room."

Danny's eyes snap towards him, and the brightest, warmest smile Tim has ever seen grows across his face. For a moment, the vigilante is stunned by its glory. His heart races, and for a second, he wonders if maybe he had been drinking a little too much caffeine.

He shakes his head. There is no such thing as too much caffeine.

Tim updated their journals later that night after bidding Danny goodnight. He added "Unexpected beauty" to Danny's physical journal right under "A smile that makes the stars pale."

Feeling embarrassed, he drinks his Coco Crush—Danny made it for him at the coffee island that Tyrone had installed in the kitchen—and turns over in his bed to sleep.

He dreams of stardust, laughter and Danny's blue eyes.

[proneterror204]

Vampire Cass!

Stupid Fruitloop and his stupid schemes! Right on Danny's class trip to Wayne Enterprises in Gotham, Vlad tested his Plasmius Maximus 2.0. Effectively taking away all of his Ghost powers for the whole day. In Gotham! He looks enough like a Wayne kid! He swears he already feels watched from the shadows.

Cass was restless. There was something in Gotham that was driving her instincts crazy. She already had her special smoothie from Alfred to curve her cravings, but there was something in town she needed to sink her teeth into. She needs to find it.

He's lost. Of course he's lost. just his luck he gets separated from his class and lost. Stupid Dash pushed him right into a dark alley! This is Gotham! He was literally almost mugged! Sam and Tucker weren't gonna answering his texts. Mr.Lancer had taken their phones because of Tuckers tech addiction being a distraction. "Not paying attention in Gotham could lead to disaster." How about being in trouble and needing to call for help? Great! now he's lost in an alley and... Someone was right behind him weren't they?

Cass was on the boy in an instant. He had good fighting instincts, but not good enough. She ducked under the punch he threw and grabbed his wrist. He used the other arm to block, she grabbed that wrist to and pinned both arms over his head and held them there with one arm. He then rammed his knee into her gut, but wasn't nearly strong enough to stop her. She grabbed the leg by the outer thigh and lifted it up moving closer into the boy. Putting her leg in-between his and leaning forward into his neck to drink.

Danny had no idea what was going on! He was standing on one leg, pinned against a wall, arms held above his head, and a woman was biting his neck. A sharp sting on his neck made him whine. He couldn't think straight and was starting to feel dizzy. The woman on him let out a sensual moan and he felt himself drift into unconsciousness. "whelp, second times the charm" Danny thought as he drifted away.

This boy tasted so good! He was like nothing she had ever tasted before! There was something foreign and exotic in his blood. When she had bitten him he gave out this little whine that was SO attractive, She had involuntarily moaned into him. She was enjoying every moment of this. The way he felt, tasted, smelled, the way he... He was unconscious! OH No! Too much! She needed to pull out now!

Danny woke up in his hotel room for the school trip. He still had his clothes on- Nope never mind! This was not his shirt! His favorite white shirt with the red oval was gone and now he was wearing a black shirt with one of the bat symbols on it. And his neck hurt!

"Cass where did you get that shirt?" Tim was sneaking into the kitchen, trying to get another cup of coffee. Where he found his sister in a obviously well-worn white and red shirt that he had never seen before. It clearly wasn't Cass's, though he knew she was a clothes thieve. She only gave him a smug look and said "mine".

Danny has no idea what happened in Gotham or how he got this mark on his neck. But he knows Vlad won't stop staring at it and won't come within 10 feet of him. He literally used it to case Vlad out of his house and down the street. It was hilarious! Maybe he should go back to Gotham and try to find out what happened.

[hauntedbythefanficsofmypast]

Of Meetings and Musings

Masterlist

Not so Fake

“I expected this from Dick, not from you Alfred.” Tim said blankly from his place on the ground. Wrapped in what he could only define as a Military grade Bat-proof burrito blanket.

“Well Master Timothy I know better than anyone that you would not listen to reason. The moment your brothers’ and father's back are turned you'd be gone and already ten feet deep in your newest case.” Alfred moved forward placing a cup to the side of Tim’s head before bending the straw so that he could turn his head to take a sip. “Be happy I am letting you sit in on over video call for the Justice League meeting.” Alfred pulled out a domino mask, securely attaching it to Tim’s face.

“This is mildly embarrassing.” Alfred looked at him for a second before reaching over and turning off the camera feed on their side.

“Better?”

“Slightly.”

“Good, now I expect that water will be gone by the end of this meeting or your coffee ban will be extended. I will be in the kitchen, just call if you need me.”

“Understood.” Tim said glumly as he thought about coffee. Alfred gave him an amused smile before walking off towards the kitchen.

Tim couldn't help but pout over the fact that he was even in the situation. He just wanted to do an intensive search into the Infinite Realms, while simultaneously hacking into the government agency known as the Ghost Investigation Ward, light work really. He barely had time to react before he was caught by Alfred. Honestly they act like he had a problem.

Tim in fact does have a problem.

Dick had managed to convince them to let Tim at least listen into the meeting. Which won him some points in Tim’s book, going off a mental tally he was now tied for second place with Duke. Cass remained in the number one favorite sibling spot, while Jason had dropped to last after the spam of pictures he took of him in the burrito.

The complete asshole he was had probably already posted them all over Twitter and Instagram. Tim wasn't ready for his Wayne Enterprises PR team email, he was gonna get Jason back for this.

He sighed, taking a sip from his straw tuning back in as Batman called attention.

“Very startling information has been brought to my attention. Something that we should've known sooner but slipped under the radar.” Batman straightens, moving to the side as the projector turns on. Displaying a PowerPoint that Tim considered woefully uninformed considering Jason had made it. Jason's the only one that uses PowerPoints weird transitions, and Tim knows he could have found everything Jason compiled in under an hour.

“The Anti-Ecto Acts a law passed by Luthor during his President run. It was signed into law the day after Gotham was declared no man's land, leaving it to slip our attention.” Nightwing turned the page in the packet he had gotten made up, signaling the others to turn as well. It was the bill in full for them to read over. “This law states that any being made of ectoplasm or able to create it are classified as undead and non-sentient. They automatically lose all human rights, and are open season to be experimented on or exterminated. They also declare it a crime to be a ghost or Ecto-Entity, the Ghost Investigation Ward, operating under the government, is given full rights to arrest those they deem undead.” Batman clicked the next slide to show multiple League members’ pictures. “Multiple League members are considered to be undead.” Everyone was stunned as they looked over the pictures, Superman was the first to speak up.

“Batman, seven of those pictures.” Batman nodded his face blank but his kids could read him clearly.

“Seven of Gotham's vigilantes are considered non-sentient and inhuman. Myself included, anyone in the Justice League that has died and managed to come back. If we don't move fast, we'll all be in trouble.”

Tim sighed, shaking his head deciding to step in.

“Under statement of the year B. This is one, either a plan Luthor made to take us down, or two, the start to tearing down all protections Metas and Aliens currently have.” Constantine nodded before standing up  moving to the front.

“I thought you all knew about this, else I would've told you sooner. We're all in lot of trouble with these Acts. Luthor basically declared war against another nation.” 

“What do you mean John?” Superman questioned as he leaned forward more his Eyes kept straying back to his picture and that of his god kids. Batman nodded to Constantine letting him take over the presentation. Tim was surprised to see screenshots of Danny’s videos on the next slide.

“There is a Realm that coincides with ours and every other universe that exists. It's known as the Infinite Realms, to put in bluntly, if the Infinite Realms was to be destroyed every universe would too. The Infinite Realms is inhabited by ghosts and primordials, beings that could and would destroy worlds if they simply teamed up. The Anti-Ecto Acts is a declaration of war against them.” Constantine sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced at the pictures. “For one we need to get it repealed immediately. Second we need to start peace treaties with the Infinite Realms, up until a few years ago it would’ve been impossible. The King was a tyrant that would love a war, however three years ago he was defeated in battle and another was Crowned.”

“How do we get in contact with this new King?” Wonder Woman questioned crossing her arms determined to see the Acts abolished.

“The only lead we have is, and I shit you not, this YouTuber.” Tim blue screened for a moment as his eyes zeroed in on a screenshot of Danny’s grinning face. Constantine held his hands up at the incredulous looks he was getting. “I know, sounds down right loony but it’s true. GalacticPhantom, also known as Danny, has posted multiple videos of himself and friends interacting with Ghosts from the Infinite Realms. The most important being the young ghost girl with white hair in the last photo. If our connections are correct, that girl is Princess Danielle Phantom, clone of High King Phantom and heir apparent. In order to reach the King, we need to reach her, and to reach her, we need Danny.”

Tim blinked before dropping his head against the floor groaning slightly, thinking about how they’d have to go about this.

“Before we continue with this.” He interrupted grumpily knowing this was going to cause issues. “So as the resident expert on GalacticPhantom,”

“Yes Red, we know you have a crush on the YouTuber.” Hood called out teasingly, earning a few small smiles. Tim was silent just glaring at the camera before speaking again.

“Congratulations Robin you’ve moved up the rankings of my favorites lists.”

“Tt- I don’t care about the nonsense you’re spewing Red.”

“Awe, Robin are you smirking? That's so cute! My baby birds are bonding!” “Nightwing I swear I will stab you.”

“Back to the point!” Tim said loudly, wanting to slam his head against the floor. “Danny’s friend Wes, he is either incredibly smart or a psychic of some sort. He has a majority of our identities clocked. Stop yelling, honestly, I believe he has a curse much like Cassandra of Troy, the only people that believe him are his friends.” Batman sighed and everyone watched in shock as he pinched his nose.

“Red, we are going to have a serious talk about sharing important information like that.” Tim snorted, rolling his eyes as he took a long sip of his water.

“Honestly B, the only reason I’m telling you now is because he is going to immediately know something is wrong. Given that only his friends listen to him, well I have no fact they all will be on high alert. To put it plainly, for once we can’t sneak around in the shadows.”

“Damn, we have to do a Superman confrontation.” Nightwing said glumly, earning a teasing offended look from the man himself.

“What’s wrong with my way?”

“It’s not as fun ‘cause they see you coming. It’s never a surprise, I like surprising them.”

“Ya, you would Wing.” Superman said affectionately before Batman called attention back to their meeting. 

“We better start planning then, I want us to be in peace talks within the week. I am giving Oracle and Red Robin full permission to pull up everything from GIW and get it blasted through every media outlet, converging with Superman on certain points of this. Given the new knowledge our best bet would be to go in with civilians. I will ask the Waynes to act as liaison for us, given they are our biggest benefactors they can be direct contact between the two.” Batman turned the power point off before moving to the middle of the table again. 

“Given the threat all of us are currently facing, I am enacting Protocol Convergence effective immediately. No hero is to do sole patrols, heroes are required to keep emergency homing beacons on them at all times. If anyone is confronted by the GIW they are to retreat immediately and alert the others. The Watchtower is having its shields upgraded and will be ready for the possibility of an attack. If the GIW does approach one of us, either meet here, Superman’s Fortress of Solitude, or the Batcave. I will be temporarily opening the Zeta-Tube for the cave, do not abuse this.Now, we need to get to work everyone is dismissed.”

Danny stopped suddenly causing everyone to look at him confused as he slowly put his missing bowl down and looked around the school kitchen suspiciously. Lunch Lady also stopped in her mixing, having agreed to have a bake off with King Phantom for one of his videos.

“What's wrong Pudding pop?” She asked softly, placing a hand on his back, Danny didn’t respond for a moment before turning to them and making eye contact with Dani, who also looked off put.

“Someone not of the Realms used our official titles.” Danny muttered shifting back and forth before giving Lunch Lady a tense smile. He stood taller, no longer slouching as his transformation took place, leaving him in his royal regalia, Dani transforming soon after moving to stand beside him. “I’m sorry, can we reschedule this? I feel the need to speak with my Council.” Lunch Lady nodded, snapping her fingers causing their ingredients to disappear and be replaced with freshly baked cookies.

“Of course your Majesties.” She said curtsying before offering a plate to Dani who took it with a grin. “I will reach out to Royal Secretary Foley to reschedule. I hope that you find everything well.” Danny smiled nodding as he opened a portal for her back to hers and Box Ghost’s Haunt.

“I do as well, please tell Box Ghost I said hello.” Lunch Lady smiled, thanking Danny and promising to do so before stepping through and waving goodbye. “Do you all want to come?” Wes glared, rolling his eyes as he stood up stretching.

“Stupid question, of course we’re coming.” Danny grinned rolling his eyes as he opened a portal to the Infinite Realms Castle. Dani bounced through calling out to them as she started flying down the hallway.

“See you in the Council room! I’m going to summon the Council!” Val snorted, walking through after Sam and Tucker. Wes entered the portal two steps behind Danny watching carefully until it was closed.

“This’ll be interesting.” Sam said, stretching out her arms as the Realms fueled her liminal side and green vines wrapped around her left arm sprouting a few black and red roses. Tucker snorted as his hat was replaced by a Nemes and the traditional makeup of a Pharaoh appeared marking him as the reincarnation of Duul Aman. Val paused looking herself over before huffing and crossing her arms glaring at the ceiling.

“Really?? Still nothing? Is it because I tried to kill him at one point, come on I’ve changed and been reformed! Give me some cool ghostly changes! Even Wes gets them!” She said, glaring at Wes, who just grinned back as he adjusted the chest plate and sword that appeared on him.

“To be fair Val, I only get it because I forced my way into being his knight.” Val huffed, throwing her arms up more playful than frustrated. Danny snorted before starting to walk towards the Council room the other following after.

Dead-ends and Surprise Visits

[jksarchives]

THE SIX STAGES OF A BREAK-UP│ 05

➪ PAIRING; jungkook x reader

➪ GENRE; lovers to strangers, angst

➩ CHAPTER WARNINGS; mention of blood

➪ WC; 12.3k

✎ series masterlist

4. ACCEPTANCE

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

It had been exactly three months since Jungkook came back to your shared apartment to collect the last of his belongings.

Three months since he had permanently walked out of your life, leaving behind the echoes of a ten-year relationship. The ten years together was reduced to a cardboard box.

Even after your outburst, he had been calm, almost detached, as if the decade you shared was merely a chapter he was closing without a second thought or consideration.

You sat at a small, round table outside your office’s café to have your lunch break. You absently stirred your coffee, your mind far from the noise of the busy city around you.

With your other hand, you scrolled through the news on your phone. And your heart sank as you saw the bold headlines finally announcing his wedding.

There was a photo of the happy couple, beaming at each other with an affection that made your stomach churn.

▍“Jeon Jungkook of Jeon Enterprise Marries Childhood Sweetheart — A Perfect Match.”

The article was full of praise for the match, highlighting how their union was a merging of two influential families, and how it had been celebrated as the wedding of the year.

The girl he was marrying wasn’t a stranger to anyone, nor was she someone Jungkook had just met. Aera was her name. She was the daughter of his father’s best friend, a model. She was a woman who was not only successful in her own right but also well-known throughout the country.

Of course you had only just learned that fact as you read through the article.

And, childhood sweetheart?

You couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh, because he had never mentioned this girl in all your years together.

Was he already thinking about her while you were still together? Had he ever really loved you, or were you just a placeholder until the real thing came along?

You felt a pang in your chest, the kind that took your breath away. It wasn’t the sharp, overwhelming pain of the initial breakup; it was more of a dull, persistent throb, like an old injury flaring up.

A part of you had always hoped that Jungkook would come back, that he would realise the mistake he had made in leaving you. But seeing him in that picture, with his arm wrapped around his new wife, that hope finally crumbled into dust.

You felt your eyes sting. For a moment you thought about leaving the café and going back to the office, forgetting about the remaining thirty minutes of your unpaid break.

But you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t cry anymore, that you would be strong.

You were tired — tired of crying, tired of feeling stuck in a place where the past held so much power over your present. You had shed enough tears, spent enough nights questioning yourself and replaying the moments where maybe, just maybe, things could have gone differently.

You wanted to move on. You needed to.

But the truth was, you didn’t know how to move on.

Ten years was a long time to spend with someone, to build a life with them, only to have it all torn away in an instant. And now, to see Jungkook so happy, so quickly after your breakup, it made you feel like everything you had shared meant nothing. Like you had meant nothing at all.

Ten years was a long time — long enough for you to lose yourself in the identity you had both built together.

Who were you without him? What did you want from life now that the future you both planned was no longer an option?

These questions haunted you, leaving you feeling lost and unsure of how to take the first steps toward healing.

You knew that moving on wasn’t something that could be forced. It wasn’t a matter of waking up one day and deciding that you were over him. It was a process, one that would likely be messy and nonlinear.

But as you sat with the news of his marriage, you also realised that you couldn’t stay in this limbo forever. It wasn’t fair to yourself — to the person you had the potential to become.

There would be no easy answers, no quick fixes.

But maybe that was okay. Maybe moving on wasn’t about forgetting him or erasing the past. Maybe it was about finding a way to carry those memories with you while still making space for new ones.

You had spent so much time looking back, trying to understand what went wrong, that you had forgotten to look forward, to consider what might come next.

But you didn’t have all the answers. You weren’t even sure where to start.

Suddenly, the chair opposite you at your table scraped loudly against the tiled floor, jolting you from your thoughts. You didn’t even notice that someone had approached your table. Your focus shifted from the phone in your hand to the man now sitting in front of you.

A soft thud on the table — a plastic wrapped burrito — accompanied his arrival, and you finally looked up, blinking as your mind tried to catch up with reality.

“Thought I’d find you here” the manly voice said.

“Hey there, lost in thought, or are you just admiring my good looks?” Mingyu teased, his voice light and playful.

Despite the ache in your chest, you couldn’t help but crack a small smile.

Mingyu was your best friend who you worked alongside at the office. He was probably the only guy friend you had and trusted the most. Though you only knew him since the beginning of college, you two became inseparable, just like with Minhee.

He always had a way of doing things — breaking through your walls with his easy-going humor. He always knew how to lift your spirits, even on the darkest days.

“Not everything revolves around you, you know” you shot back, trying to match his tone, but your voice wavered slightly.

“Well, it sure does look like it. Have you seen all the ladies trying to get my number at the office?” he playfully smirked to himself as he raised his brow.

You forced a small smile, the corners of your mouth lifting slightly, though your heart wasn’t in it. Mingyu’s timing, as usual, was both impeccable and unfortunate.

You appreciated his attempt to cheer you up, but you weren’t sure if you were ready to be pulled out of the emotional cocoon you had wrapped yourself in just yet.

Still, you didn’t want to seem ungrateful.

Mingyu’s expression softened when he noticed your gloomy mood. He leaned forward as his eyes searched for yours.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked.

“Just...life stuff,” you replied vaguely, trying to brush it off.

But the effort to sound nonchalant was betrayed by the lingering sadness in your voice. You knew Mingyu would pick up on it — he was more perceptive than he let on.

Mingyu didn’t say anything. He just stared at you, as if his eyes spoke to you, to tell him what was really going on.

You knew better. Likewise Minhee, Mingyu had been there through it all — the breakup, the tears, the late-night phone calls when you couldn’t sleep. He would see right through any mask you tried to put up.

You sighed heavily, knowing there was no use in beating around the bush.

There was a moment of hesitation as your fingers hovered over the screen, as if unsure whether you should share what was weighing on your heart. But this was him. Your best friend. The one person who knew you inside and out, who had seen you at your best and worst, and never judged you for either.

With a quiet breath, you unlocked the phone and slid it across the table towards him. Your eyes averted from the screen, as if it burned you to look at it.

Mingyu picked up the phone, his brows knitting together as he glanced at the screen. The bright display showed the news article you’ve been reading, with a headline that slowly began to make sense. His eyes scanned the words, piecing together the story, and when he finally understood, his frown deepened.

The news was simple enough: a wedding announcement. Your ex-boyfriend, the man you once imagined spending the rest of your life with, was getting married.

He knew this day would come eventually. After all, the engagement had been public knowledge for months. But knowing it and seeing it were two different things. He processed the information, the realisation settling in.

When he looked up at you again, his expression had softened. He didn’t need to ask how you felt, it was written all over your face. You were trying so hard to hold it together, to be strong, but he could see the cracks in your facade, the vulnerability that you rarely showed to anyone.

“Hey,” he softly called out as he placed your phone down.

“You don’t have to pretend with me, okay? I know you’re hurting. You don’t have to keep it all inside” he said.

You let out a shaky breath as you looked up at him, your eyes shining with unshed tears. “It’s not fair, you know? He gets to be happy, and I’m just…I’m still trying to figure out how to be okay” your voice almost came out as a whisper.

Mingyu wanted to say something, anything that would take away your pain. But all he could think about was how much he wanted to punch Jungkook, to make him feel even a fraction of the hurt he had caused you.

The images of him smiling happily in wedding photos, celebrating his new life, filled him with a rage he hadn't felt before. How could he move on so easily? How could he be so happy after everything he had put you through?

“You know what?” he said, his voice hardening.

“He doesn’t deserve to be happy. Not after what he did to you. And the fact that he can just move on like that, like you didn’t matter, like you were just a chapter he could close — that’s on him, not you. It says everything about who he is, and nothing about who you are” his jaw clenched as he spoke.

You smiled weakly, appreciating his words, but still feeling the sting of the news. “I know. I just wish it didn’t hurt so much” you sighed.

There was some silence for a minute or two. While Mingyu kept his gaze on you, you kept your head low to avoid looking at him.

You then shrugged, “but, I guess it’s okay. I mean, it’s been a while…I should be over it by now, right?” you said, unsure of your own words.

But he could see through you. He knew you too well to believe that. The tightness in your voice, the way you couldn't quite meet his eyes, all of it told him that you were far from okay. And that made his blood boil.

He gripped his coffee cup so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

“No Y/n, it’s not okay” he unintentionally snapped, and you looked up at him, surprised by the intensity in his voice. Upon realising his tone, Mingyu sighed.

It wasn't okay. Not to him.

The thought of that man walking away unscathed, while you had to pick up the pieces of your life, was unbearable. He wanted to protect you, to shield you from the pain, but he also wanted to make Jungkook pay for what he had done.

It was irrational, he knew that, but the urge to punch the guy in the face, to wipe that smug smile off his face, was almost overwhelming.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but the anger still simmered just beneath the surface. “I just...I hate seeing you hurt because of him,” he said, his voice softer now, but still edged with anger.

“It’s not okay for him to give up a ten year relationship and move on so quickly like it was nothing. It’s just so fucked up Y/n, you didn’t deserve any of that” he said.

“Then what do I do Gyu?” you question with a broken voice. It was a question he didn’t really have an answer for, but all he knew was that he couldn’t see you break any more than you already were.

“What I’m saying is, I just want you to remember that none of this is your fault” he began as he reached out to hold your hands.

“You gave him everything — your love, your time, your patience. You did everything you could to make that relationship work. But it wasn’t you who failed. It was him. He was the one who took your love for granted, who thought that after everything you two shared, he could just walk away and start over with someone else. That’s on him, not you” he ranted.

“I hate how you’re questioning yourself over him. You’ve always been more than enough. If anything, he was the one who wasn’t enough for you. He treated your relationship like it was something cheap, something he could trade in for something new. That was his choice, his failure, not yours” he continued.

You looked down at your hands, twisting your fingers together as if trying to wring the pain out of them. You tried to control your tears as you nibbled on your lips hard.

Mingyu couldn’t stand to see you like this, burdened by a guilt that didn’t belong to you. He reached out, gently lifting your chin so you had to meet his gaze.

“You’ve blamed yourself enough, and it has to stop. You gave him your best, and he chose to walk away. That doesn’t mean you weren’t good enough” he assured you.

You knew you had reached a point where you had to accept the truth.

You had to accept that the man you once loved, the man you still loved, had moved on. He had found happiness with someone else, and there was nothing you could do to change that. It was a hard pill to swallow, but deep down, you knew it was the only way forward rather than keep blaming yourself when none of it was your fault.

And you were glad that Minhee and Mingyu were there to remind you about it, while still giving you the space and reassurance you needed.

But acceptance didn’t come easily.

It wasn’t something you could force, and it wasn’t something that happened overnight. It was a slow, painful process of coming to terms with the fact that your life had taken a turn you never expected. The future you imagined was no longer possible, and you had to find a way to make peace with that.

Moving forward seemed impossible, like asking you to walk with broken legs. But you knew that as long as you held on to the past, you would never be able to heal.

Accepting your fate was the first step toward reclaiming your life, even if that life felt empty without him. It meant facing the pain head-on, allowing yourself to grieve not just the loss of him, but the loss of who you had been with him.

“You’ll get through this Y/n, I promise” Mingyu said, and you could only give him a weak smile.

“Minhee and I will always be here for you. And if we need to kick that bastard’s ass, we will gladly do so” his voice firmed, to which you couldn’t help but slightly giggle.

“You’re just looking for an opportunity to beat him up” you told him.

“He hurt my best friend, of course I’d want to beat the shit out of him” he scoffed, picking up his coffee mug and then taking a sip.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your phone before stuffing it in your bag. “Hurry up, our break finishes in two minutes” you told him, changing the topic. You stood up to leave but waved his hand to stop you as he chugged his coffee.

Finally placing the cup down, he stood up. “Damn, I didn’t even get to eat my burrito” he huffed.

“Too bad, you’ll have to starve for the rest of the day. Now hurry” you said nonchalantly before you began to walk off.

“Rude” Mingyu mumbled with a frown. You knew he was probably going to secretly stuff his face at his desk next to you while using you as a shield from your boss.

┄┄┄┄┄

It was almost 3pm.

You sat at your desk with your back straight, and your eyes glued to the computer. Your fingers moved swiftly over the keys as you navigated through the data you were inputting. The reports had to be submitted by the end of the day, and you were determined to finish everything on time.

Though a lot had happened in your life for the past few months, you managed to step up with your focus. Your focus was razor-sharp, undeterred by the distractions around you — at least for the most part.

Sitting at the adjacent desk, Mingyu was in a state of panic. Though he tried to keep it subtle, his eyes darted nervously around the office as he took rapid, secretive bites from his burrito he was unable to eat earlier.

The aroma of warm grilled meat, beans, and spices filled the corner of the office, making you smirk without even looking up from your screen. Just as you predicted.

Your boss, Mr. Han, was in his glass-walled cabin, not more than twenty feet away. The positioning of the cabin gave him a direct line of sight to most of his employees, and that included the corner where you both sat.

You could hear the rustle of the burrito wrapper, and you knew Mingyu was trying to muffle the sound, which only made it more noticeable in the quiet office.

You finally glanced sideways at him. He was hunched over, pretending to review documents on his desk while quickly cramming the burrito into his mouth. His cheeks were puffed out, and the desperate look in his eyes betrayed the calm he was attempting to project. It was like watching a squirrel trying to hide its food before someone else discovered it.

You sighed, trying to ignore him as you went back to her report.

But the sound of his loud chewing broke through your focus again. You pressed your lips into a thin line.

Seriously?

You darted a glance his way. He was trying to eat quietly, but the rustle of the burrito wrapper and the squelch of sauce made his attempts impossible.

“Can you stop being so loud?” you hissed under your breath as you looked towards him.

Mingyu froze for a second, mid-bite, his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. He glanced at you, then at the boss’s office, as if trying to gauge whether he’d been caught. When he realised he was still in the clear, he lowered the burrito slightly.

“What? I’m starving here. I didn’t get to eat...you know, trying to comfort you,” he said with a grumpy frown.

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. You appreciated Mingyu more than you let on, but this wasn’t the time to show it.

You were swamped, and the last thing you needed was to be pulled out of your focus by his lunchtime theatrics.

“Yeah, yeah, thanks for that” you muttered, your eyes going back to focusing on the screen.

“Just finish eating before Mr. Han sees you and writes you up for violating the ‘no food at the desk’ rule” you told him.

Mingyu smirked, suddenly unbothered by the threat. “He’s not going to notice,” he whispered, glancing cautiously toward the boss’s office. “He’s on a call anyway” he added.

“Right, that’s why you’re being a sneaky little rat hiding behind me” you scoffed.

You knew he was probably right. Mr. Han was often too preoccupied with phone calls and meetings to notice the small infractions happening under his nose. Still, you weren’t going to take any chances, especially since you were already on his radar after that rough meeting earlier in the morning.

“It’s just an extra precaution” he argued back.

“Whatever, just be quiet” you said before continuing with your work.

┄┄┄┄┄

It wasn’t until fifteen minutes later that you suddenly felt a wave of dizziness wash over you.

It was subtle at first, a mere flutter that made you blink a few times. But then it grew stronger, a sensation that left you light-headed, as though the ground beneath you was shifting.

Your vision blurred, the sharp black lines of the spreadsheet softening and bending at the edges. You tried to refocus, blinking hard and squinting, but the haze refused to clear.

You shook your head to attempt to clear the fog settling over your mind. A small frown creased your brow as you leaned back in your chair, taking a deep breath.

Maybe it was the stress, or perhaps you hadn’t slept well enough the night before. It was hard to tell, but you had no time for this — there was still so much work to be done.

You rubbed your temples and tried to force yourself to concentrate, your fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Mingyu had noticed your sudden stillness, and the slight fidgeting that followed. He glanced over, and concern immediately knitted his features when he saw you shaking your head and pressing your fingers against your temples.

“Y/n,” he asked softly, his voice laced with worry, “are you okay?”.

You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to alarm him. You hated being the center of attention when you weren’t feeling well — especially in the office. It was just a moment of weakness, you told yourself. Something fleeting.

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice steady but soft. You offered him a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Just a little dizzy, probably need more coffee or something”.

But even as you spoke, you could feel the strange fog lingering. Your mouth felt dry, your throat slightly parched.

You reached for the water bottle sitting on your desk, your fingers wrapping tightly around it as if anchoring yourself to something solid. With a small twist, you opened the cap and took a slow sip, letting the cool liquid soothe your throat.

The dizziness didn’t subside immediately, but the act of drinking water helped you refocus. You could feel Mingyu’s gaze lingering on you, his brows still furrowed. He didn’t seem convinced, but you appreciated that he didn’t press the issue further.

“You sure?” he asked, leaning slightly towards you. “You’ve been working nonstop for hours. Maybe you need a break”.

You shook your head as you capped the bottle and set it back down on the desk.

“It’s alright” you replied, though you weren't quite sure yourself.

Your head felt slightly clearer now, but a nagging sense of unease remained. “I’ll be fine. Just need to get through this report” you told him.

Mingyu gave you a knowing look. “Don’t push yourself too hard, alright?” he said.

You nodded again, “I won’t” you said, offering him a more genuine smile this time.

He gave you one last glance before returning to his work, but you could still feel his concern hovering nearby.

Taking another deep breath, you straightened in your chair and refocused on the screen in front of you. The letters and numbers on the spreadsheet seemed to swim a little less now, but you promised yourself you’d take a real break soon.

Just one more task to finish. Just a little more.

┄┄┄┄┄

The quietness in the office room was interrupted when the main door at the far end of the room creaked open.

You glanced up briefly, your curiosity piqued, but quickly returned your attention to your work, assuming it was a delivery or perhaps a colleague returning from a break.

But there was a sudden shift in atmosphere when a couple walked in. It was more a subtle shift — a collective awareness that whoever had just entered commanded respect, or perhaps a higher level of attention.

Everyone in the room had their attention on them apart from you, who was too immersed in your work.

Mr. Han was the first to react. His head snapped up from his screen, eyes lighting up with a mixture of surprise and enthusiasm.

He quickly stood up, adjusting his suit jacket before striding out of his office with the kind of urgency reserved for someone important. As he approached the couple, his voice took on a tone that was almost worshipful.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jeon! Welcome, it’s a pleasure to see you both” her boss greeted them with a wide, almost courteous smile.

Your fingers froze over the keyboard mid-sentence.

The name hit you like a wave of ice water.

Jeon.

You were frozen completely, your heart skipping a beat as the reality of the situation sank in. Slowly, almost as if you were afraid of what you would find, you turned your head toward the door, your body stiff, unwilling to fully confront the scene.

There, standing tall and composed in the doorway, was Jungkook.

It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. He hadn’t changed much since the last time you saw him — his dark hair still fell slightly over his forehead, and his presence still commanded the room in that subtle, effortless way it always had.

But something about him felt different now. More polished, more distant, like he had moved on in a way you never quite had.

He was looking as smart and composed as ever in a tailored suit, the very picture of success and confidence. And his arm was draped loosely around the waist of a woman with sleek, styled hair and a diamond ring that glittered in the office lighting.

The woman he had just married. Aera.

The two of them looked every bit the perfect couple, a vision of what your life might have been had things gone differently.

But why is he here?

You didn’t expect this. Why would you?

He never mentioned anything about business ties to your company, not during your time together, not even in passing.

Yet, here he was, standing in your office, the place you thought was your own, a separate space from the past you both shared. And worse, he was here as someone important — someone who clearly had a powerful connection to your boss.

“Why is that bastard here?” you heard Mingyu curse under his breath as he shot daggers at the couple. He too had the same question, and was seething with anger as his fists clenched tightly

For a moment, you prayed he wouldn’t notice you. That the busy office, the crowd of people, and the conversations would swallow you whole and spare you from this encounter.

But fate, as always, had a cruel sense of humor.

While Jungkook conversed with your boss, his eyes swept across the room, indifferent, until they finally landed on you.

His smile faltered.

It was subtle, barely noticeable, but you saw it — the moment recognition flickered in his eyes, and the easy, confident smile he wore dipped for just a fraction of a second.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you locked eyes, a torrent of emotions flashing between you in the briefest of moments. His expression softened into something you couldn’t quite read — regret, surprise, or perhaps something else entirely — but it was enough to send your stomach into knots.

And then, as quickly as it happened, the moment passed. Aera turned to him with a smile, completely oblivious to the silent exchange, and he broke the gaze, looking down at her with that same charming smile that once used to belong to you.

Maybe it really was the time to accept that you no longer existed in his life.

You swallowed hard, your hands trembling slightly as they hovered over the keyboard once again. You wanted to disappear, to melt into the background and become invisible.

But the truth was, you were stuck there, at your desk, with nowhere to hide.

As the couple moved further into the room, their attention now on your boss, you allowed yourself one last glance in their direction. There was a strange numbness that settled in your chest as you saw the way he held her, just like he used to hold you.

You turned back to your screen, your vision slightly blurred as you stared at the half-finished report. The words no longer made sense, your concentration completely shattered.

For the first time in a while, you felt like the world had shifted beneath your feet, and all you could do was hold on until the moment passed.

You didn’t want to look at him. And you didn’t want him to look at you. You just seeked an excuse to rid yourselves from each others’ lives now that neither of you had anything to do with each other.

Perhaps it’ll hurt less.

You tried to concentrate back on your work, to ignore his presence, but you felt the wave of nausea and dizziness wash over you again. As you stared at the screen in front of you, the numbers and letters blurred, and you had to blink a few times to steady your vision.

You took a few sips of water, but it didn’t help. If anything, you started feeling worse.

You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the strange haze in your mind. But just as you thought you had gained some control, the dizziness striked again, stronger this time.

Your hands instinctively reached for the edge of your desk, fingers gripping the cool surface as if it were the only thing keeping you harboured to the earth. Your heart began to race, and a cold sweat formed on your forehead.

You felt a gentle nudge against your arm. Startled, you turned your head slowly towards him with unsteady movement. You saw Mingyu looking at you with worry etched on his face.

“Y/n, are you okay? You look really pale” he asked, his voice low and soft.

You forced a small smile, swallowing the unease that was tightening in your chest. “I'm fine,” you lied, your voice sounding weaker than you intended.

But Mingyu wasn’t convinced this time. His eyes scanned her face, noticing the way your shoulders were tense, the slight tremble in your hands as you rested them in your lap. He knew you too well to let it go.

“You don’t look fine to me Y/n. I think you should go home and rest, I’ll let Mr. Han know” he said, but you shook your head.

“G-Gyu, I’m fine, really. Maybe it’s all this screen time. I’ll be fine after a break” you tried to convince him more. You didn’t want to worry him — or worse, be the center of attention in the office especially when he was here.

You were always the one who handled things on your own, the one who didn’t need help. But right now, your body was betraying you, and the more you tried to shake off the dizziness, the more persistent it became.

Slowly, you stood up from your chair, but the moment you did, the dizziness intensified. It was as if the ground beneath you had moved, and you stumbled slightly, your feet feeling unstable.

You reached out instinctively as your hand brushed against the edge of the desk for support. Your heart was racing in your chest as you tried to balance yourself, but your legs felt weaker than they should.

Mingyu was by your side in an instant, his hand hovering near your back, ready to catch you if you fell. “Whoa, careful there,” he said worriedly, “you sure you’re okay?” he asked.

You nodded, though your confidence in your own balance was shaky at best. “Yeah, just a little off-balance. I’m fine, really. I’m going to go to the restroom” you told him. Mingyu nibbled on his lip, nervous to let you go alone in this condition. But he nodded anyway.

As you took your first step toward the restroom, you weren’t so sure whether you’d even make it to the restroom before you faint.

Each step felt heavier than the last, as though your body was moving through water, and your mind was struggling to keep up with the physical effort.

The dizziness swirled around you, making your surroundings feel longer to walk through than it was. The fluorescent lights overhead were too bright, it was making everything even worse.

You were barely halfway across the office when you felt it — a warm, wet sensation on your upper lip.

You paused mid-step, frowning in confusion. Slowly, your hand reached up to touch your nose. And when you pulled your fingers away, they were smeared with bright red blood.

A nosebleed.

Your dizziness deepened, and a sense of vertigo overtaking you. You blinked a few times to try to ease yourself, but the room was spinning now, the walls closing in.

You didn’t have time to process the blood, the dizziness, or the sudden overwhelming feeling of vulnerability. Your body felt lighter, like you were losing control of your limbs.

Suddenly, your foot misstepped, and you staggered, causing her body to tilt forward. Before you could register what was happening, you collided with something solid — a hard chest.

You gasped, and your vision was swirling as you tried to regain your footing, but your legs gave out beneath you. You were falling.

But then, just as quickly, you felt a strong pair of arms catch you. They wrapped around you firmly and steadily, preventing you from hitting the floor.

For a moment, you leaned into the embrace, the warmth and strength unfamiliar yet comforting in your current state of weakness. Your breaths were shallow, and your vision blurred further as you tilted your head back, trying to see who had caught you.

Through the haze, your blurry vision settled on a familiar face, the lines of his jaw and the shape of his unmistakable big doe eyes.

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your heart pounded in your chest for a different reason now.

It was him.

The man who had broken your heart not so long ago, the one you had spent months crying over. And here he was, holding you in his arms as if the past hadn't shattered you.

“I’ve got you,” Jungkook whispered softly, his voice cutting through the fog in her mind.

His expression shifted from surprise to alarm as he noticed the blood trickling down from your nose. “What the hell—?” his arms tightened around you to keep you upright.

“Y/n! Fuck your nose is bleeding!” his voice was sharp with worry.

The world around you continued to spin, your body weak from the dizziness. Your mind raced with a flood of emotions — confusion, anger, and something you didn’t want to acknowledge, relief.

But the last thing you wanted was his help.

Desperately, you tried to push him away, to pull yourself from his grip. The humiliation of being caught in such a vulnerable state — by him of all people — was almost worse than the dizziness.

You needed to get away, to be anywhere but in his arms.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, trying to sound stern and cold. But your voice came out weak and shaky, betraying you.

You attempted to take a step, but your legs wobbled as they refused to cooperate. Your body was betraying you now, too. No matter how much your mind screamed at you to move, your limbs wouldn’t obey.

The dizziness surged again, threatening to pull you under. You swayed, and his grip on you tightened as he pulled you closer, his breath warm against her ear.

“You’re not fine,” he murmured, his tone firmer now. His hand moved to the back of your head, gently supporting you.

But his touch burned.

The comfort of his arms turned to ice. Anger surged through you, fueled by the hurt you had buried deep inside, hurt you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel fully until this very moment.

You tried to push him away with your palms weakly pressing against his chest, but your body betrayed her once again, too weak to follow through.

“Don’t touch me,” you croaked, your voice raspier than you intended, more vulnerable than you wanted it to be. You tried again, harder this time, but your knees trembled, and you swayed unsteadily.

“Y/n, you're not okay. Let me—” he started, worriedly trying to reach for you again.

“I said don’t!” your voice cracked, but your anger flared stronger.

You couldn’t stand the concern in his eyes, the worry that once would have comforted you but now only reminded you of the pain he had caused.

You didn’t want his help, not now, not ever again.

You’re finally coming to accept that he broke your heart. You’re finally coming to accept that he had fallen in love with another woman who apparently made him happier than you.

You’re finally coming to accept the fact that he’s not yours anymore. Maybe he never was.

But as much as you wanted to move away from him, your body refused to cooperate. The dizziness was overwhelming now, the room spinning so violently you could barely keep your eyes open.

The blood continued to drip from your nose, a warm trail sliding over your upper lip. Your vision dimmed again, the edges darkening even more than before.

Jungkook could only stare at you with hurt flashing in his eyes and his heart dropping to his stomach.

His face remained blurred to you but his voice sounded closer, “please let me help you, you’re bleeding Y/n” he sounded desperate and panicky.

You clenched your teeth, feeling frustration and exhaustion battling within you. You wanted to yell at him, tell him to leave you alone, but the words wouldn’t come.

No matter how much you resisted, the dizziness was overwhelming your senses, pulling you further down into darkness. You tried to fight it, but your vision grew blurrier, your limbs heavier, until you couldn’t fight anymore.

Eventually, your body slumped against Jungkook’s chest as consciousness slipped away from your grasp.

“Y/n!” his voice was loud and panicked which caught the attention of everyone in the room. His arms tightened around you, catching you before you could hit the floor.

“Y/n, hey, stay with me!” he shook you gently, but your head lolled against his chest, unresponsive.

From the corner of the room, a chair scraped harshly against the floor, and Mingyu appeared in an instant, rushing towards you both. His face twisted with concern yet anger as he took in the sight of you in Jungkook’s arms, unconscious and nose bleeding.

“Y/n! Y/N!” his voice cut through the haze of unconsciousness, filled with panic.

Without hesitation, he shoved Jungkook away, his expression fierce as he crouched beside you. “Get the hell away from her!” he barked, feeling his protective instincts kicking in.

Jungkook stumbled back , and his arms fell uselessly at his sides as he stared, wide-eyed, at your pale, bleeding form. Mingyu didn't spare him a second glance.

“Y/n? Y/n, come on, wake up,” Mingyu muttered urgently, gently pulling you into his arms. His hands trembled as he brushed your hair away from your face, wiping at the blood that was still trickling from your nose. Panic filled in his chest, and his heart was racing uncontrollably. Your skin was cold, and you weren’t responding.

“Mingyu” Jungkook began, stepping forward, his voice shaking. But Mingyu shot him a glare that could have stopped anyone in their tracks.

"I said back. off.” he gritted his teeth. He didn’t care that he was superior to your boss, he’ll always be the bastard who shattered his best friend’s heart and dreams.

Everyone in the office stopped what they were doing as they watched the scene unfold with shock and disbelief. The murmur of whispers filled the room, but Mingyu couldn’t focus on any of it. His only concern was his best friend, who lay unmoving in his arms.

“Somebody call an ambulance!” he yelled into the open office space, his voice breaking with fear.

In the chaos that followed, Jungkook took a hesitant step forward, reaching out as if to help, but Mingyu’s glare stopped him cold. “Don’t you dare,” he hissed. “You’ve done enough”

His words stung, but Jungkook remained frozen, torn between the guilt weighing on his heart and the reality of what was happening. All he could do was watch as the woman he once loved lay unconscious, bleeding and vulnerable.

The office, which had fallen eerily silent, suddenly erupted into action. A few co-workers rushed to call for help while others watched the scene unfold, frozen in shock.

As the seconds ticked by, Mingyu held you tight, refusing to let go. He glanced down at your pale face, brushing his thumb gently over your cheek.

“You're going to be okay Y/n. I swear it,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

Seconds later, Mr. Han appeared from his office along with Aera. Both their faces were masked with confusion as they heard the commotion.

“What’s going on here?” Mr. Han asked as he arrived at the scene. He glanced at your unconscious with wide eyes before they glanced at the two men, trying to piece together what had happened.

But Mingyu didn’t answer. All he needed to hear was that the ambulance was on its way. And to his mild relief, someone stepped in. “The ambulance is coming” the man told him

Aera’s eyes flickered between Mingyu, you, and Jungkook, who was still standing frozen, his face pale. He had drops of your blood on his light blue shirt.

A knot of unease tightened in her stomach as she glanced at him, noting the way he was staring at you. She had always sensed there were unresolved feelings between the two of you, and now, in this moment of crisis, those feelings seemed to hang in the air like a thick cloud.

“Jungkook?” her voice was low, but it broke the silence that had engulfed him. He blinked, his expression shifting as though he had just realised where he was. He looked at her, but there was a flicker of guilt in his eyes. It was subtle, but it was there.

“H-Huh?” he unknowingly stuttered.

“You okay?” she asked as she walked over to him, her hand reaching out to hold him. Jungkook gave her a nod to reassure her, but she saw the way he anxiously swallowed a thick lump.

After what felt like hours, the sound of the sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder as the ambulance approached.

Two paramedics rushed in, kneeling beside you as they swiftly began their assessment. One of them gently lifted your wrist, feeling for a pulse, while the other checked your vitals. The room was eerily silent, everyone watching with bated breath.

“Her pulse is faint,” one of the paramedics said, glancing at his partner with urgency. “We need to move fast”.

Mingyu’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes wide with fear. “Is she going to be okay?” his voice was barely above a whisper, but the question hung heavy in the air.

The paramedic didn’t answer right away. Instead, they moved with precision, placing an oxygen mask over your face. “We’ll do everything we can,” he finally said, his tone calm but serious.

Jungkook’s heart sank. He had been hoping for better news, but the severity of the situation was now clear. The paramedics moved quickly, placing you on a stretcher and preparing to take you to the hospital.

As they strapped you in, Jungkook’s heart finally broke free from the chains that had held him frozen in place. His pulse raced, his palms sweating.

For all the hurt between you, for all the bitterness you harbored towards him after he had shattered your relationship, he still cared about you deeply.

His feet moved before his mind caught up, and suddenly he was following the paramedics, his mind a blur of guilt and fear. His eyes locked on you as the paramedics wheeled you towards the door. He couldn’t let you go like this, not without doing something.

“I’m going with her,” Jungkook said, his voice breaking as removed himself from Aera’s hold and moved to follow the paramedics out the door.

Before he could take another step, Mingyu blocked his path. His eyes, usually kind, were sharp with fury as he shoved Jungkook back. “Stay away from her,” Mingyu snapped, his voice low and dangerous.

Jungkook stumbled, taken aback by the force of Mingyu’s words. He opened his mouth to protest, to explain, but he saw the raw emotion on Mingyu’s face — the fear, the protectiveness, the anger. It stopped him cold.

“This isn’t about you, Jungkook” Mingyu continued, his voice tight with emotion. “She doesn’t need you anymore. You lost that right”.

Jungkook clenched his fists, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to argue, to say that he still cared, that he didn’t want anything bad to happen to you.

“I need to go with her Mingyu” Jungkook said, his voice trembling but determined. “I still care about her” he added.

Mingyu’s face twisted in disbelief and fury. “You care about her?” he repeated, his voice dripping with contempt. “You broke her heart. You don’t get to care about her now” he snapped.

There were audible gasps within the room, followed by hushed whispers, but it was the last thing Jungkook cared about. He stood still, his eyes pleading, “Mingyu, please…” he looked at the man with glossy eyes.

But Mingyu’s rage flared. “No. You’re not going to do this. Not now. She doesn’t need you. I’m here for her” he told him.

No matter how much it hurt for him to admit, Mingyu was right. He had lost his chance with you long ago. And now, all he could do was watch as the paramedics loaded you into the ambulance, Mingyu by your side, while he stood on the curb, helpless.

For a moment, the two men stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills. Mr. Han watched tensely, while Aera stood off to the side, her face a mixture of shock and something unreadable as she glanced at her husband.

The tension in the air was heavy, and the seconds ticked by as the paramedics wheeled you out the door, your life hanging in the balance. Mingyu shot Jungkook a last glare before running off to follow the paramedics.

┄┄┄┄┄

As the ambulance doors shut with a heavy thud, Mingyu rushed to his car, his hands shaking as he fumbled for his keys.

His thoughts were racing in his mind. He knew something was wrong with you, but never thought it would be this serious. What if something happens? He cursed himself for panicking but couldn’t stop the rush of fear choking him.

Once behind the wheel, he followed closely behind the ambulance. His phone vibrated in the passenger seat, but he ignored it. Instead, he grabbed it and quickly dialed the one other person who might understand the terror he felt — Minhee.

Minhee picked up after the second ring. “Hey Gyu, what’s up?” her voice was light, oblivious to what was happening. Mingyu’s breath hitched in his throat, and the words tumbled out in a broken rush.

“It’s Y/n. Minhee she’s — she’s in the ambulance right now. She collapsed at work. There was blood, a nosebleed...I don’t know what happened. I’m following them to the hospital, but I’m scared. I’m really scared” his voice cracked, the enormity of the situation pressing down on him.

There was silence on the other end for a moment, as if Minhee was processing what he’d just said. “Oh my God. I’m on my way. I’ll meet you there. Just — please stay calm, okay?” she said

“I — I’ll try,” he mumbled, his vision blurred by the tears welling up in his eyes. He could barely focus on the road, but somehow, he managed to follow the flashing lights of the ambulance.

After the call ended, he tried to calm his breathing. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel as he continued following the ambulance. Every mile felt like eternity to him, but all he hoped right now was that the paramedics were doing what they could to stabilise your health.

After a few agonising minutes, the hospital finally came into view. As soon as the ambulance stopped, Mingyu parked his car haphazardly in the nearest space, not caring about the lines, and sprinted to the emergency entrance. He saw them wheeling you inside, your body still motionless, and for a moment, the sight nearly crippled him.

“Wait!” he called after them, his voice strained with desperation, but they were already through the double doors.

He started towards the entrance, but a nurse stepped in front of him, gently stopping him with a hand raised in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry, sir, you’ll have to wait out here. We’ll take care of her,” she said, her tone firm but not unkind.

He felt on the verge of breaking down, his heart screaming at the idea of waiting while his best friend was somewhere inside, possibly fighting for her life. His legs wobbled beneath him, and he stared at the nurse, his eyes wide and pleading.

“Please, take care of her. I can’t lose her” he begged, his voice choked with tears.

The nurse’s expression softened as she looked at him. “She will be okay, I promise,” she told him, before stepping through the doors, leaving him standing alone in the sterile, brightly lit waiting area.

Mingyu slumped onto one of the metal chairs in the hallway, burying his face in his hands. His whole body shook as the adrenaline and fear coursed through him.

Every scenario imaginable ran through his mind, each one worse than the last. He knew you were neglecting yourself ever since Jungkook broke up with you. You were improving but he knew at one point you were going to reach your breaking point.

What if it was something serious? What if they couldn’t help you? He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.

A sudden wave of dizziness hit him, and he realised he hadn’t taken a proper breath in what felt like hours. With trembling hands, he pulled his phone from his pocket and messaged Minhee of the hospital he was at.

After a while, the doors to the waiting area swung open and Minhee rushed in. Her eyes scanned the room frantically until they landed on Mingyu, and she immediately sprinted toward him.

“Mingyu!” she cried.

Mingyu noticed her presence and stood up almost instantly, “Minhee” he whispered, his lips quivering. Minhee threw her arms around him the moment she reached him.

He hugged her back just as desperately, his hold tightening as if letting go would make the situation worse. “I don’t know Minhee. She hasn't been feeling well ever since we returned from our lunch break” he began.

“She was going to the restroom, and the next moment, she just collapsed,” he explained as best as he could. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes, and he buried his face in her shoulder, clinging to the only comfort he had in this moment.

Minhee sucked in a shaky breath as she pulled away. She sat down on the chair and pulled him down too. As much as she was worried sick too, one of them had to stay strong and hope for the best.

“She’ll be okay, let’s stay strong, hmm?” she patted his back.

Mingyu nodded, but he couldn’t stop the tears that began to fall freely. Minhee wrapped her arm around his shoulders, trying to be strong for him, but she was scared too. And she knew — of course, she knew — why this was hitting him so hard.

It wasn’t a secret between them. It wasn’t just because you were his best friend — Mingyu loved you.

He had for years, though he had never quite mustered the courage to tell you.

Minhee had always known. She could see it in the way he looked at you, the way he always put you first. The thought of something happening to you was unbearable for both of them, but for Mingyu, it was like his entire world was falling apart.

They had talked about it once, a while ago, when he couldn’t keep it bottled up any longer. Minhee had been the one to listen, to support him, even though they both knew you didn’t feel the same way. At least not when you had Jungkook in your life.

You had always been oblivious, treating Mingyu with the same kind of warmth and affection you gave all to your close friends.

And yet, even knowing that, it hadn’t stopped him from falling for you.

But as Mingyu sat silently, something else stirred inside him. Beneath the fear was another emotion, one that burned hotter and sharper: anger.

“That fucking bastard” he gritted his teeth, his fists tightly clenching.

“What?” Minhee frowned in confusion.

Mingyu heaved out a loud annoyed sigh as he leaned back against the chair, throwing his head back. “Jungkook,” he began, “we don’t know what ties he has with our company, but he came today, with his fucking wife” he continued.

His mind began to replay the events of that lunch break earlier in the day, the last time he and you had talked.

It was only when Jungkook had appeared — with Aera — that your mood had completely shifted. You weren’t feeling well to begin with, but his sudden appearance seemed to worsen your symptoms.

“Can you believe he had the nerve to tell me he still cared about her and wanted to follow me to the hospital?” he huffed, “but I didn’t let him”.

Minhee scoffed, folding her arms against her chest, “he’s lucky I wasn’t there, or I would’ve kicked his ass” she said.

“You don’t know how badly I wanted to break his jaw right then and there, Minhee,” he groaned.

He couldn’t get the image out of his mind, the way your face dropped when you saw Jungkook, the way he was holding his wife, and the way you were pretending like it wasn’t affecting you.

Mingyu had hated Jungkook, he hated the way he still held power over you, even though your relationship had ended long ago and you were trying to come to terms with the fact that you and him were no longer a thing.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. He wanted to scream at the injustice of it all. How could someone like him — someone who had hurt you so deeply — be allowed to waltz back into your life, throwing you off balance again? And with his perfect, picture-perfect life in tow.

It wasn’t fair.

His breathing quickened as the anger built inside him, mixing with the helplessness he was already feeling.

Minhee seemed to notice and placed a hand on his arm. “Hey,” she said softly, “you look like you’re about to explode, calm down” she told him.

He shook his head, trying to steady himself, but the emotions were too strong. “I just...I can’t stand him, you? After everything he’s done” he muttered, his voice thick.

“Me neither, but right now we need to focus on Y/n, okay? She needs us” she said as she gave his arm a gentle squeeze.

Her words were like cold water dousing the flames of his anger, and he nodded, taking a deep breath.

She was right. He needed to be strong right now, for you, not consumed by hatred for someone who didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was that you were going to be okay. You had to be.

┄┄┄┄┄

The second you slowly began to regain your consciousness, the sterile smell of the ward welcomed you.

You blinked a few times, trying to clear your vision and make sense of your surroundings. The room was white — too white — and the lights overhead were painfully bright, making you squint.

When your vision slightly stabilised, your eyes scanned around the room. The walls were decorated with a few abstract paintings, likely meant to make the sterile environment feel a bit less clinical.

Then you noticed the tubes connected to you by an IV drip, and a heart monitor was attached to your chest. The soft beeping of the monitors were persistent and it was starting to get annoying.

You tried to sit up, but the weight of your body resisted your efforts, forcing you back down against the pillows.

It was as if your limbs had forgotten how to work, and the smallest movement sent waves of weakness coursing through your body.

Your hands trembled slightly as you reached up to touch your forehead, and you could feel the light sheen of sweat there. Your head felt like it weighed a hundred pounds.

You felt disoriented, as if you were floating somewhere between consciousness and an inescapable void. Everything was a haze.

You blinked slowly, trying to piece together how you had ended up here. Your heart pounded in your chest as fragments of memories started to drift back, like broken pieces of glass coming together to form a jagged reflection.

The last thing I remember...you thought.

Then it hit you like a sudden jolt.

You remember feeling dizzy and lightheaded, a sharp, searing pain blooming in your head. You remembered making your way to the restroom when suddenly your nose started to bleed.

And then, Jungkook’s face swam in your memories, remembering how you bumped into him. You remember losing your balance, but he caught you just before you fell backwards and almost smashed your head against the nearby desk.

You remember his worried face, and him trying to help you, but you recoiled at his touch and pushed him away. All you knew at that moment was that you didn't want him near you, not anymore.

But then what?

Your head throbbed as you tried to recall. The nosebleed, the dizziness, the world spinning uncontrollably. After that, there was nothing. Just darkness.

Now, here you were, lying in a hospital bed, alive but barely functioning. Your body felt foreign, heavy like lead, and your mind was still clouded with confusion.

You tried to move your fingers, to test if you still had control over your limbs. Slowly, shakily, your fingers twitched, and you exhaled in relief.

Just then, the door creaked open, and a nurse entered the room. She smiled gently as she approached the bed, clipboard in hand.

“You're awake,” the nurse said with a soothing voice.

“How are you feeling?” she then asked.

You swallowed, feeling your throat dry and scratchy. “Weak,” you managed to croak out.

“As expected, your blood pressure was very high” she sighed, “have you been eating and drinking well?” she then questioned.

The question lingered in the air, and you didn’t respond. Your lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

What were you supposed to say? That you hadn’t cared enough to take care of yourself? That food felt like an unnecessary burden? That since the breakup, you had barely had the will to get out of bed most days, let alone nourish your body?

The silence stretched, uncomfortable but truthful.

The nurse waited for a moment, her expression softening as if she could sense your unspoken troubles. “It's important to take care of yourself, you know. Your body needs it so you can function” she told you.

You nodded again, still silent.

How could you explain that your mind had become your worst enemy in the past few months? Ever since the breakup, your life had unraveled in a slow, agonising way.

At first, it was just the small things — forgetting meals, skipping showers, neglecting your apartment. But then it grew worse. Days would go by where you wouldn’t eat anything at all, surviving on coffee and maybe a piece of toast if you could stomach it.

You had lost weight, felt your energy drain away, but none of it seemed to matter. There was a hollowness inside you, and you didn’t know how to fill it.

Yet, despite your own self-destructive spiral, there were moments of light. Minhee and Mingyu had refused to let you drown. They showed up, even when you ignored their calls.

They dragged you out of bed when you had no will to move. It was their gentle yet firm hands that had begun to pull you back from the edge, slowly helping you to rebuild your routines, though the pain of the heartbreak still lingered.

When the nurse left the room, you stared at the ceiling again, your mind replaying the last few months in pieces. The pain of the breakup still lingered, but you knew you couldn’t live like this forever.

The first step to healing was acceptance.

You had to accept that you had to continue your life without Jungkook.

He loved someone else, and was now married — you had to accept that. You had to accept that he was no longer part of your life, that he wasn’t the soulmate the universe had made for you.

Your thoughts were interrupted when the door opened again. With your vision now more steady and clearer, you turned your head towards the door.

Minhee and Mingyu.

“Y/n” Minhee gasped, rushing to your bedside. Mingyu wasn’t far behind, his eyes already glassy with tears. They moved as if they had been holding their breath for hours, waiting for this moment.

You watched the way their faces flooded with relief seeing you awake. As they both sped towards you, you noticed that Mingyu’s eyes were red and puffy, like he had been crying for hours. His bright and easygoing demeanour was nowhere to be found. Minhee on the other looked equally worn. Dark circles marred her eyes, her face pale and drawn like she hadn’t slept all night.

“Oh my god, you’re awake” Minhee whispered as she reached you.

“Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been? You scared the hell out of us” she said, her voice breaking. All you could do was give her a weak hum, your eyes giving her a silent apology.

Mingyu stood on the other side of you, his hand hovering over yours as if he wasn’t sure whether he should touch you or not. His eyes, still bloodshot, were filled with a sadness that tugged your heart.

“Are you feeling okay now?” he asked, trying his best not to break down.

You turned to him and gave him a gentle smile before nodding, “I’m fine Gyu” you told him.

Silence engulfed the room for a minute or two, until he broke it. “You scared the hell out of me,” he choked out. His usual calm composure was slowly crumbling, and it was clear from the way his shoulders trembled.

“I—” his voice broke, and he took a step back, running a hand through his hair, trying to regain some control over his emotions. “I thought something happened to you” he breathed out.

Your eyes softened in guilt. You scared him — really scared him. “I’m sorry” you said with your hoarse voice.

You reached out and grabbed his hand, your fingers cold against his warmth. “I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you, but I'm fine now, really” you reassured him.

You swallowed hard, feeling your chest tighten. You sat up slowly though your muscles protested the movement, but you pushed through the discomfort.

Mingyu saw you struggle, and quickly moved to help you sit up. “Hey, take it easy” he said softly.

“I’m fine,” you lied, managing to prop yourself up with a pillow behind your back. But the truth was, you felt anything but fine. Your body was weak and your head was still spinning.

“How long have I been here?” you then asked.

“It’s almost 8a.m. right now, so you’ve been out since 4p.m. yesterday” Mingyu replied.

Your eyes widened. That was almost twenty hours. But it felt like you had blinked and woken up in a different reality. “Fuck” you mumbled under your breath.

“It’s okay though, you needed that long rest” Minhee said, patting your shoulder.

“I know, I just…” you sighed, trailing off.

“You have to start taking care of yourself more Y/n. I know you’re trying but, we don’t want to see you in this condition again” she worriedly said, taking your hand in hers.

“Okay nurse” you weakly chuckled, trying to lighten up the dull mood in the room.

Minhee couldn’t help but roll her eyes, “I’m being serious Y/n” she deadpanned, shutting you up almost instantly.

“I know, I know. I’ll do better, I promise” you told her.

“We just care about you Y/n, a lot. We just don’t want you to lose yourself in the dark when you have us to support you” Mingyu spoke up.

You weren’t used to being vulnerable, but maybe that was what you needed most right now — to let yourself be vulnerable, to lean on the people who loved you instead of carrying the weight of everything alone. You realised that if you were ever going to heal, you couldn’t do it alone. You needed your friends, the people who had always been there for you.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you guys,” you whimpered. You were grateful for them, truly, and you couldn’t imagine your life if they weren’t your best friends.

“You don’t have to find out,” Minhee replied with a smile. “We’re here. Always” she said.

“Thank you” you sniffed, wiping your eyes.

It wasn’t until one of the nurses came in to give you your breakfast that interrupted your conversation. For a moment your attention went to the tray of food that sat on the table next to you. The bland, unappetizing smell was enough to make your stomach turn.

“I can’t believe they expect you to eat this stuff,” Mingyu said, wrinkling his nose. “It looks like it was left out overnight”.

He knew you too well.

You chuckled weakly, “I know. I was hoping it wouldn’t be as bad as it looks, but I’ve been too scared to even try it. Honestly, I think I’d rather starve” you frowned, eyeing the meal with distaste.

Minhee chuckled softly, “yeah, hospital food is notoriously bad” she said.

“Say no more,” Mingyu replied, standing up with a grin. “I’ll head to the canteen and get you something edible. Anything in particular you’re craving?” he asked.

Your eyes lit up, and you smiled at him gratefully. “Anything that doesn’t look like…that,” you said, pointing to the tray. “I trust your judgment”.

Mingyu gave a mock salute. “One gourmet meal coming up” he winked at you and waved to Minhee as he walked out of the room, leaving the two of you alone.

“Such a goofball” Minhee giggled, and you couldn’t agree more.

You and Minhee talked amongst each other for a while. And after a few minutes, the door swung open, and Mingyu reappeared with a grin on his face. He held up a brown paper bag and a bottled drink, stepping toward your bed like a hero returning from a quest.

“Ladies, I have returned bearing gifts,” he announced.

You sat up a little with a flicker of anticipation crossing your face. “Please tell me it’s not worse than the hospital food” you looked at him.

Mingyu pulled out a neatly wrapped sandwich and a small side salad. “I bring you a chicken Caesar sandwich and the finest salad this hospital has to offer”. He placed the meal on the table beside your bed, along with a bottle of iced tea.

You eyed the food with cautious excitement, “you really outdid yourself Gyu. I actually think this is…edible” you said.

Mingyu feigned a bow, “my culinary expertise knows no bounds” he said with a proud smile on his face.

Minhee smiled as you gingerly unwrapped the sandwich and took a tentative bite. You chewed thoughtfully before nodding, “okay, not bad. Definitely better than whatever they served me over there” you spoke out. You had no idea what exactly it was but it was certainly not appetising at all and you’d rather starve than eat that.

The three of you then continued to talk for what felt like hours, catching up with things that you had missed while you were out cold, or of random topics that Minhee and Mingyu forgot to talk to you about.

But there was an elephant in the room, a subject none of you wanted to touch: Jungkook. It was almost laughable how carefully you all danced around the subject, considering how central he had been in your life for so long. Although, you were kind of grateful that they didn’t bring him up. The thoughts of him for the past few months had caused you enough heartbreak.

┄┄┄┄┄

Jungkook walked into the house and closed the front door behind him with a soft but heavy thud. The faint light in the hallway illuminated his furrowed brow and the dark circles forming beneath his eyes.

His heart was still pounding, and it wasn’t just from the hurried drive home. His mind was racing, entangled in a mess of emotions that he couldn’t easily shake.

He was only supposed to a business meeting, expecting nothing more than the usual pleasantries and discussions about growth strategies with his collaborator. But the moment he saw you, his entire world had tilted on its axis.

You weren’t supposed to be there. Or at least, he didn’t expect you to work at his collaborator’s company.

The image of your pale, bloodied face was burned into his memory. The soft thud of your body against his chest had sent his protective instincts into overdrive. He had acted out of reflex, cradling you, trying to call for help.

But before he could do anything, Mingyu had rushed over, his eyes blazing with anger and disgust.

His heart clenched again at the memory of that moment. He had wanted to stay, to make sure you were alright, but the hostility in Mingyu’s eyes had left him feeling powerless and ashamed. He knew he lost the right.

He loosened the tie around his neck with shaking hands, pulling it off and throwing it onto the couch. His skin felt too tight, like his clothes were suffocating him.

He stood in the middle of his living room with panic that had followed him home. His mind swirled with questions: Were you alright? Was it something serious?

He barely noticed Aera watching him from the other side of the room, her arms crossed, her lips pressed into a thin, angry line. He was too caught up in his unrest to sense the storm brewing in her.

But she saw everything — the tension in his shoulders, the worry etched into his features, the way his hands trembled slightly as he ran them through his hair. It was all too obvious.

And she hated it.

She had been there, too. She had seen you collapse. She had seen the way he reacted, how he had rushed to catch you as if some instinct still bound you both together. And she had seen something in his eyes that had made her stomach turn. It wasn’t just concern. It was something deeper, something she thought she had banished from his heart long ago.

Finally, unable to stand it any longer, Aera stepped forward, her voice cold, tinged with a bitterness that she could no longer suppress.

“Why are you so worked up about her? You broke up with her, remember?” she snapped.

Her words cut through the air like a knife, and he stopped mid-stride, his body freezing as if struck by a blow. Slowly, he turned to face her, his eyes dark with something raw — anger, regret, pain — all bundled together, swirling dangerously beneath the surface.

Aera recoiled slightly, startled by the intensity of his glare. She had expected guilt, perhaps even an apology for how distracted he had been the entire evening, but not this. Not pure, unfiltered rage.

And when he spoke, his voice was hoarse, almost a growl.

“Of course I remember,” he spat, his voice low, trembling with barely contained fury. “It’s not like I had a choice, did I?” he glared at her, slowly taking a step towards her.

“What do you mean?” she frowned, instinctively taking a step back, “you ended it with her, you chose me” she reminded.

He scoffed, a harsh, humorless sound escaping his throat as he raked a hand through his hair, the strands standing on end with the force of his agitation.

“Chose you?” he repeated, his voice louder now, almost incredulous. “I didn’t choose anything. You think I wanted to end things with her?” he questioned rhetorically.

Aera’s breath caught, her stomach knotting as the room seemed to tilt for a moment. She had never heard him speak like this before, about you, or anything related to either of your past.

His words were barbed, tinged with a depth of emotion she hadn’t anticipated. Her jealousy flared anew, but now it was mingled with something else — fear.

“What are you talking about Jungkook?” she whispered, her eyes searching for him.

“Oh please!” he snapped, raising his voice.

“Quit acting like you don’t fucking know anything!” he yelled, letting his pent up anger finally blow up.

“This is all because of you! You and your fucking family!”

NEXT ➜

[arkangelo-7]

Okay, but, BatAdvil.

At this point in his career, Bruce has developed more synthetic drugs than a Pfizer employee without health insurance—it just comes with the territory. Given his close proximity to the Rouge Gallery and Gotham’s semi-poisonous smog, he’s had to teach himself the art of medicinal drugs. There’s an entire fridge dedicated to his creations, but his magnum opus will always be BatAdvil.

Bruce designed it following a particularly godawful run-in with Killer Croc back in 2005, but it was Dick Grayson who actually coined the term. Alfred was suspicious but ever since BatAdvil’s creation, Bruce has kept a tiny bottle of it on him at all times; any time the Joker or Poison Ivy gets a particularly nasty hit in, he’ll pop a pill and suddenly he’s 25 years old again and pain’s only a distant memory.

Eventually, though, the Robins get their hands on it.

Dick routinely steals Bruce’s horde. It’s because he’s so generous with it; anytime he’s in a team up and his partner gets whacked around by one of Blüdhaven’s worst, Dick, guilty, offers up the pills to both superpowered and pedestrian hero’s alike. It’d made him extremely popular with the Justice League—there’s regular fights over who gets to assist Nightwing in hopes of getting their hands on some free BatAdvil.

Jason, once he’s adopted and learns the Secert, immediately sees the potential of dealing BatAdvil. He starts with the Titans, because their proximity to Dick means they’re already hooked, and goes on to dominate the Justice League as the leading BatAdvil dealer. He makes a killing off that stuff and keeps his cash stash locked away in a random chimney in Wayne Manor.

Tim knows about it. Tim knows everything, actually, but he’s acutely aware of Bruce’s miracle pills and Jason’s dealings with the JL. Once Jason’s dead, Tim not only takes over the Robin mantle, but also Jason’s superhero drug ring. He runs it so efficiently that when Jason comes back, he half considers hiring Tim for his criminal enterprises before he decides that trying to kill him would he more rewarding.

Side note: Tim 100% uses the chemical composition of BatAdvil to make a pain-relieving energy drink. It works great, but the problem is that it’s shit on his liver, so he has to go back to regular coffee after a few weeks to avoid losing another internal organ.

Damian and Steph are similar in that they both at first think BatAdvil is stupid. They stick to regular Advil or just go to hard drugs for when they’re seriously injured. But then they both have a scenario where they have some sort of project or test the next morning and have to study, but also just broke like three ribs fighting the Riddler two hours before. They take BatAdvil once and never go back.

Bruce, to this day, uses the stuff religiously. Like, on a daily basis. (He’s got eight kids, he’s forty-five, and he’s beating up criminals on the regular. It’s tough on his knees.) But like regular Advil, the more BatAdvil one takes, the more their immunity grows and the larger their dose has to be. Bruce accidentally gives Clark one of his every-day pills BatAdvils after he gets whacked during an alien invasion and Clark immediately passes out. The League freaks out and Batman awkwardly disappears and pretends like it wasn’t his fault. Dick cries tears of laughter when he hears.

[incorrectbatfam]

Retail steph with damian and Jon? :) i love retail steph so much

(featuring Billy Batson because he only adds chaos and I love him)

Previous: Margie | Batkids | Rogues | Justice League | Retail batkids | Retail Bruce | Young Justice | Black Friday | Valentine's Day

[grocery store]

Steph, working the bakery section: How can I help you boys today?

Jon: We're getting a cake for our friend's birthday. Chocolate with buttercream frosting, please. 

Steph: Do you want it to say anything? 

Jon: Yes. "Happy 14th B-day, Billy!"

Steph: What color?

Damian: Red. 

Steph: *starts writing on the cake*

Damian: Please also add: "Despite your shortcomings and lack of maturity, you are a valuable part of our team and as you get older, I expect you to gain greater wisdom that will aid us in our goals and prospects."

Steph: *struggling to fit it on the cake*

———————

[coffee shop]

Damian: Can we try the five-drink espresso flight?

Steph: You sure?

Billy, eyeing an unsuspecting Jon: Yes.

Steph: Alrighty.

*moments later*

Jon, after his fifth espresso: I'M KING OF THE UNIVERSE!

Jon: *shoots through the ceiling*

Damian: *grumbles and hands Billy ten bucks*

Steph, sighing: I'll get the broom.

———————

[clothing store]

Jon: *dancing in the dressing room with light-up shoes*

Damian: *T-posing in a trenchcoat*

Billy: *filming them*

Steph: What are you doing?

Billy: Making a TikTok. 

Steph: Well, you can't have cameras in the dressing rooms. I'm gonna have to ask you to stop. 

———————

[drive-thru]

Damian: One vegetarian Batburger, one regular Batburger, and one order of Night-Wings. And an extra-extra-extra large Ivy Salad.

Steph: Did you take the Batmobile again? 

Damian: No. 

Steph: Why don't you pull up to the window and prove it? 

Damian, Jon, and Billy: *ride up on Bat-Cow*

———————

[furniture store]

Jon: What's a warranty?

Damian: It's a court order to arrest someone. 

Steph: That's a warrant. A warranty covers the cost of something if it gets damaged within a certain amount of time. In our case, the store has a one-year warranty on all items. What are you looking to buy?

Billy: *enters pushing a Pinball machine*

Damian: ...It's for school.

———————

[restaurant]

Steph: What can I get you?

Damian: We'll split a pizza. 

Steph: Okay, anything else?

Billy, as Shazam: An alcohol.

Steph: "An alcohol?"

Billy: Yes, your finest alcohol. Sharing size, please.

Steph: I'll need to see some ID.

Billy, nervous: What's there to see? I'm clearly an adult. 

Steph: I need them for everyone at the table. 

Damian: *pulls out Jason's crime lord license*

Jon: *sticks on a fake mustache*

———————

[call center]

Steph, stifling a yawn: Wayne Enterprises account support, how can I help you? 

Damian: Why are you still working? It's midnight. 

Steph: Overnight shift. This is a 24-hour line. What do you need, Damian?

Damian: Nothing. We just wanted to annoy you. 

Steph: We?

Jon: Hiya!

Billy: 'Sup.

———————

[sleepover at the Manor]

Steph: Alfred told me to bring you some snacks.

Damian: Excellent. 

Steph: *leaves the room*

Steph, internally: What do kids these days even do at sleepovers? 

Steph: *presses her ear to the door*

Damian: Truth or Dare? 

Jon: Truth. 

Damian: Which one of my siblings do you like best?

Jon: Steph, all the way.

Billy: I agree, she's the coolest. Remember when she drove us to get midnight breakfast on my birthday?

Jon: And when she promised not to tell my parents when I broke the café ceiling.

Billy: Or when she took us for a walk and actually explained why we couldn't make TikToks in the store instead of going "because I said so" like other adults. 

Jon: Plus, she gave all the leftover salad to Bat-Cow and helped us set up the Pinball machine downstairs.

Billy: Ooh, and she's really good at making mocktails. 

Jon: Also, she extended our free trial of the Daily Planet for our social studies project. 

Damian: Hm... point taken.

Billy: And she's hot.

Damian: Say that again and I will smite you with your own powers.  

Steph: *smiles softly*

[zylev-blog]

There was something unusual about Danny Fenton. The first time Bruce noticed the young adult was during a crisis in Metropolis. He was noticed helping evacuate civilians but never once was hurt during the battle. Bruce hadn’t even noticed the man until he rewatched the footage from his cowl the next day. But then there’s a crisis in Central City and somehow, Danny is there again—but this time, a younger woman is with him. The siblings are once again, helping out. The third time Bruce notices the man, he’s in China with Cass. He does a double take when he sees the man. This was when he started looking into the man that seemed to be following him around. After that, he noticed the man everywhere. He was the newest assistant at Wayne Enterprises. He was getting coffee at Tim’s favorite coffee shop. He was walking down the street as Alfred took Bruce somewhere. The final straw was during an attack in Star City that he was helping Green Arrow with. Bruce manages to corner the dude, who wasn’t even aware that Bruce had known he was being followed.

Danny apologized immediately, but then followed the comment up with, “Your mom told me that she would haunt me for the rest of my life if I didn’t keep you safe and she’s scarier than my sister.”

Bruce had no idea how to respond to that.

[blughxreader]

platonic yandere batfam thoughts...

how you end up integrating into the family.

I think we often forget how insidious the long-term effects of kidnapping are. Your whole world narrows and you have nothing fulfilling outside of them.

Realistically, how many weeks straight can you do nothing but look at your phone/watch TV? I know we do this every day, but we have school/work/friends/family to provide actual fulfillment and joy. But when you take that away? And have to decide whether you should scroll through monitored social media or talk to your captors?

Especially because the TV doesn't distract from the cold, hard gaze of the surveillance cameras in your room.

Even if you read and craft and cook, it's so difficult to keep your mental health in-tact without having a positive interaction with another human being.

It would start small.

It's morning and Cass smiles at you from across the breakfast table. Not wanting to be rude, you smile tightly back.

Jason wordlessly slides you a book. You take it.

After a few months, you feel slightly more comfortable about taking up space in the manor. Alfred is out of town for the weekend, so you make a sandwich with Tim.

Bruce talks to you about the new scientific breakthrough at Wayne Enterprises and keeps you relatively up-to-date on major world events. You begrudgingly learn more interesting facts than public school has ever taught you.

Soon, you've watched everything good on Netflix. You exhausted your tolerance for social media. You've given yourself headaches reading so much. You've hit an art/writers block like never before because your input has run dry.

With no other source of entertainment, you become more attentive to the Bats.

Of course, you've always watched them out of fear. But as months tick by and you've learned their hearts (and delusions), it's obvious that they would never hurt you. Furthermore, operating within their expectations is easy enough as long as you never challenge them, so the constant danger-sense slowly turns off.

However, because you don't have any outside noise to occupy your mind, drama in the house becomes almost life-and-death to you.

Peace is so fragile, and it's all you have.

Damian and Bruce return from patrol in a rage one night. Damian's furious echoes bouncing upstairs, followed by Bruce's low, indistinguishable scorn.

Fuck, you think. Now your and Bruce's talks are going to be stilted and uncomfortable. Now Damian is going to sulk in your room for hours, unwilling to talk about what happened yet wanting some kind of reassurance.

You can't keep them from fighting, but you want to protect your peace.

When you first arrived in this dreadful manor, you never would have imagined you'd offer them kind words and affection. However it's the only thing you can do now.

There's conflict. The house is tense--your world is tense.

Should you call Dick? He has a day job again, so he can't come over until tomorrow night. It's up to you to ease the tension.

So you do, slowly, with homemade food and Bruce's favorite coffee blend and Damian's favorite hot chocolate. You sit with them individually, shoulder to shoulder (much closer than you would normally sit), and pretend everything is alright. They're surprised but very quick to snap back into a good mood.

The house is suddenly back in order and you did it all by yourself.

And with these vigilantes, conflict is ripe. There's always people coming and going, fighting and playing, and you're unwillingly the most in-tune with the well-being of everyone's relationships.

You protect your peace. You protect the house.

this shit makes me gnaw at my enclosure. if you're fem, it's worse because ✨ stereotypical woman archetype ✨ anyway this has been on my mind because i've been taking care of my baby chicks and cooking dinner most nights, so i'm like 💁‍♀️ i could be a captive house wife click here for my yandere batfam masterlist