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dcxdpdabbles · 15 days ago

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Always the bridesmaid never the bride

I'm not going to lie. I forgot if this was a prompt or a response to something I posted since I got it back before Thanksgiving. But if it's the former then:

Danny says this to Bruce at Clark and Lois' wedding. He is convinced Bruce is in love- or in lust, at the least- with Clark because the wealthy man constantly popped up at their office for important "business" and "private exclusive" interviews.

Now, Danny won't lie and say he's a better journalist than Clark or Lois- those two are the top two of the Daily Planet. There is a reason almost all Superman stories are covered by them- but he's darn good himself. After retiring from protecting his town from Ghosts, he's only ever used his powers scarcely, but they have helped him with a few articles here or there.

His career as a reporting journalist was mainly made by his ability to stumble across trouble alone! Danny had won awards for his articles. He has been included in a city time capsule project.

Danny got the scoop on Jason Todd being alive story way before everyone else. After realizing the boy was in witness protection, he hadn't even exposed it without speaking to Mr.Wayne first. The man was nothing like the tabloids had one believe. Danny found him a severely intelligent man with a deep love for his family and city. He just distracted people with his razzle and dazzle, hiding his beautiful soul in plain sight.

It had been an eye-opening conversation. The duo made a deal to wait until Jason was safe to be announced; Danny waited three whole months before he was greenlighted to release his story. Jason Todd had officially "returned" from the dead with an exclusive interview with Danny Fenton.

Danny honored and protected his dignity by writing a story that made the public love the returned young man. He hated reporters who only dragged people's names through the mud because that wasn't real investigation; that was just accepting the latest gossip on the streets.

Bruce was so grateful that Danny hadn't put his son in danger that he even gave Danny a business card that went to his home office!

And yeah, okay, Clark had Bruce's personal cellphone, but Danny just couldn't understand why the billionaire was so hung up on Clark Kent. It wasn't like the guy was Superman!

And maybe he was overly happy to find out Clark and Lois were an item. Sure that someone as good as Bruce, for all his facade of being a party boy who never grew up, would never chase a taken man. Danny had been right, too, because Bruce Wayne appeared less and less around the Daily Plant office.

It was.....sad not to see him, but Danny was a very busy journalist. He was grateful that the distraction had finally taken the hint and scurried off somewhere. What irked him in the following year and a half of Clark and Lois dating was how often Perry signed the two to cover Gotham News.

Mostly at one of Bruce Wayne's extravagant parties! Yeah, it was sort of cool that most of Bruce's parties were charity events. He had checked the numbers himself, finding that Bruce's efforts were honest and working to better his city. How many billionaires actually kept their word when wanting to be a philanthropist?

Of course, Danny had to write a piece on it. The people needed to see the positive change Bruce was making. Sometimes, it felt like people forgot how much he gave to the city. The article went viral, and people on the other side of the world were praising the good man Bruce.

Perry had given Danny a raise for it.

Clark had ruined that significant mark on his record by placing a wrap present on his desk with a wide grin. Apparently, the two had gone on a yacht trip together without Lois or Bruce's significant other. Whoever that was. "Bruce wanted me to give you this as a thanks."

Ugh, the smug asshole was just rubbing it in Danny's face that he was still friends with his ex. The present had been a shitty ship in a bottle that Danny had placed beside his writing awards in his living room. You know it would be a waste to just throw it out.

Or let it get dusty. Or not stare at and wonder if Bruce knew he liked pirate movies, so the fact he had a model replica of Captain Jack Sparrow's Black Pearl made for Danny was really no big deal.

Then Bruce came by the office after buying out the Daily Planet, giving Clark a month's vacation paid due to some "family emergency."

Danny had been worried about Ma Kent and Pa Kent- the pair had visited the Daily Planet and were the nicest people to ever walk the planet- so like the well-mannered man his mother raised, he had gone to the farm with some of his Dad's famous fudge. Only to find the Kents unaware there was an emergency in the family until Danny reminded them.

He had been a journalist long enough to call bull on their meaningful glances. Danny knew that neither Bruce nor Clark would dare cheat on Lois. They were both too good for something as sleazy as that- and honestly, Lois would kill them- but that didn't stop Bruce from obviously still carrying around a torch for Clark.

Which meant he gave him unfairly favorable treatment in the workplace. Ugh! Perry didn't even seem to care, stating that Bruce had signed their paychecks, and as long as he wasn't forcing Clark into anything harassment-worthy, Danny just had to deal with his coworkers having friends in high places.

That meant they got away with different things. He just had to suck it up and accept it.

But now, Clark and Lois tied the knot. Bruce had to back off. He would never overstep a friend's relationship like this. Danny might have seen him sneak a few glances at the dancing couple- not that he was staring at Bruce Wayne! But the man was one of the hottest topics to write about, and he never knew when a good story would pop up.

It was rather sad, really. How Bruce forced himself to come to a celebration of the man he loved marrying and choosing someone else. Danny had dedicated a drink to his heartbreak- from clear across the room.

He wasn't on a personal cellphone number basis with Bruce Wayne, let's allow a "Drink your broken heart sorrow away with me" basis. And maybe Danny had a few too many. Perhaps he lost count after realizing it was an open bar because, surprise surprise, Bruce was footing the drink bill for all guests.

Danny doesn't remember what made him think he could cross the room to Bruce or why he found the courage to point a finger in his face before slurring, "Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, eh Brucie?"

He does remember those piecing blue eyes locking him in place, brow folding in concern as Bruce replied. "Mr. Fenton, are you alright?"

"Me? Oh yeah! Just enjoying the party." He throws his arm up, spilling some of the alcohol out of the cup. He doesn't mind since the DJ starts to play one of his favorite songs, and he just has to sway to the beat. "This is a fun party. Are you having fun? I'm having fun!"

"I think you've had a little too much," Bruce says, helping Danny to his feet. When did he fall? Oh, right, when he was dancing. He laughs again, curling up on Bruce's chest. He feels it shift with the vibrations of the other man's voice. It's rather nice. "Did you come alone? Is there someone I can call for you?"

"Can I tell you a secret, Brucie?" Danny mutters, leaning forward to whisper into the man's ear before he can respond. "I live alone. I have no one to take care of me. I can't even drive."

"I see. I can have my driver take you home then. Can I see your wallet? I want to read the address-"

Danny has a second to think Oh no before his stomach lurches, and vomit falls out of his mouth all over Bruce Wayne's fancy suit that probably costs more than his house. Danny's eyes water. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't usually drink, and I feel terrible, and I-"

"It's alright. " Bruce says, smile still perfectly kind, understanding, and slightly dizzy. Danny knows he's lying, though- his reporter eyes can see right through that facade. He's pissed that Danny threw up on him. Understandably.

He starts sobbing, apologizing even more, and pointing out how he knows Bruce is actually upset.

Bruce looks mildly surprised before throwing one of his arms over his shoulder and helping him out of the hotel ballroom. The reception had started hours ago, and despite it not being anywhere near over, no one would bat an eye at them leaving early.

They were walking down the hallway. Danny found himself leaning on a counter, laughing into his hands about a potted plant, while Bruce chatted up the lady at a computer. He told the pair that Bruce should rebound with a man instead of a woman if he wanted to get over Clark but was ignored by them.

Rude.

Then suddenly, Danny was being pressed into a soft mattress on his back while someone was taking off his shoes and losing his tie. When did he get home? How had he moved that quickly?

This didn't feel like his pillow. Danny has a special one. He can't sleep with it. He packs his pillow when he travels, even if it's just one night he plans to stay. Danny has used the same pillow for years now.

"I'm sorry, I can't get your special pillow, but I can give you lots of water." A man says, making Danny blink and open his eyes. His eyelids feel so heavy that it takes him a moment to stay open.

Above him, Bruce is carefully unbuttoning his suit jacket. The billionaire had removed his own coat, but the vomit-covered white shirt remains. Danny feels ashamed at the sight even as Bruce pulls his arms out of the jacket sleeves.

"Sorry," He whimpers. "About the vomit."

"It's alright. You needed to throw up. Do you feel better?"

Danny nods, closing his eyes and feeling a warm towel run along his face. He sighed as the sticky, gross feeling around his mouth was gone, and he sank further into the Not Right But Comfty pillow.

"Sleep well, Mr. Fenton," Bruce says, tucking the blankets around Danny once he finishes cleaning him up. Danny hums, already half gone, when he whispers.

"You're a good man. No matter what you present to the world. No matter if you believe you're not, I know you're good."

There is a moment of silence before Bruce replies. "I paid for the hotel room. It comes with a free breakfast, so when you're feeling up to it, come down for food tomorrow. Have a good night, Mr. Fenton."

"Stay?"

"I'm sorry. I never intended to stay; I just wanted to get you somewhere safe. Going home in your state would have been a bad idea."

Danny's words are nearly too slurried to be understood as he slowly slips away: "Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, Fenton. Bruce would never want you."

He wakes up with a killer hangover, confused about where the hell he is, and almost has a heart attack when he realizes he crumpled up the suit pants he rented. All that is so hard to process in thirty seconds that he nearly missed the written note on the nightstand.

Call me xxx-xxx-xxxx

XOXO

Bruce Wayne

What in the world happened at Clark's and Lois's wedding!?

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Never the Bride #Part 1 #spirt halloween ship #Danny is a reporter at the Daily Planet #Develops a crush on a celeberity he interviewed #Bruce never paid attention to Clark's coworker #Until the wedding #Now he can't stop thinking about him #misunderstandings #Bruce and Clark were just doing JL stuff #TW: Blackout Drinking

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cjlouwho · 2 months ago

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“The team is off this year, and you are too, so I’m going to show you what a real Thanksgiving looks like.”

That’s what Buck had told him a month ago, a late night discussion in bed at the loft, Buck’s shoulder healed enough to lie down but Tommy making no effort to leave him.

Being off for Thanksgiving was rare, both of them being off was practically a miracle. Buck was determined not to waste it.

He’d asked Tommy about what his Thanksgivings were like growing up. Tommy had told him, the first few he could remember were his dad yelling about something not being done right and his mom ending up in the bedroom crying.

After she died, there was no more Thanksgiving at all. The only thing Tommy would do, more for his mom than anything else, is make her “special homemade dressing” (a box of Stovetop), and cranberry sauce. He’d eat it alone in the kitchen while his dad downed one beer after another in his chair in the living room, watching whatever game was on.

And once he was an adult, he worked pretty much every Thanksgiving, so he didn’t think much of it.

Buck had kissed him hard after that, promised this year would be different. They’d all be at Maddie and Chimney’s place, but everyone was going to pitch in with the cooking. There would be kids running around, and games, and way too much food, and maybe once everyone else left they’d watch a Christmas movie.

Tommy played it cool, but he felt like a kid on the inside. He was so excited. He’d get to be with his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s family, which were his friends too. There would be laughter and embarrassing stories told. The kids would be getting excited for Christmas and he’d ask Jee what she was wanting so he could get her present sorted out. It would be perfect.

Tommy cleared his throat as he turned off the stove, blinking away the tears in his eyes. He set the stuffing on the back burner, letting it sit while he scooped two spoonfuls of cranberry sauce on his plate. From the fridge he grabbed a beer and set it at the table. Then he went back to the stuffing and stirred it, satisfied with the thickness. He added a bit more than a regular serving size to his plate, then walked back to the table.

From his seat he could hear the game on in the living room. If he pretended enough, he could imagine his dad in there. At least then he wouldn’t be alone.

#bucktommy #911 #tommy kinard #evan buckley #if I said I’m sorry now would you all forgive me?

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madamechrissy · 2 months ago

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=͟͟͞♡ Healing Hearts =͟͟͞♡

=͟͟͞♡ Pairings:-Doctor Gojo x Intern F!Reader

=͟͟͞♡ Contents/warnings- MDNI- NSFW- fun chap- heavy smut chap- oral, m and f recieving, fingering, jerking off, explicit sex, rough sex, choking etc. Reader, 26, Dr. Gojo 34- Grey's vibes ✨️

=͟͟͞♡ Word Count- this chap- 8.8k

=͟͟͞♡ Summary- You are the top Surgical Doctor intern, along with Maki, Yuta and Toge. You all are exhausted from passing the first month, sixteen plus hour days, days you don't even go home, all to get a top spot with the star Surgeon, Dr. Gojo, your resident doctor and boss. Or as you call him, Dr. Hojo. He's takes nothing serious but his surgeries it seems, and has a reputation for being a player, but he has that top spot, so you want to prove your worth! You just have to ignore those stupid butterflies he gives you, and those pretty blue eyes, along with his interest in you, and focus!

♡ Reblogs and comments appreciated ♡

=͟͟͞♡ Part Three =͟͟͞♡ Playlist =͟͟͞♡ Masterlist

♡ Part Four ♡

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Gojo.” You say with a smile, it’s Thanksgiving and here you are with your resident Doctor’s arm around you, as you hand his lovely mother flowers, in awe when they invite you in.

You’ve seen rich people but holy fuck, Satoru’s family is the type of wealth you just hear about, some decadent mansion all modern in creams and beige tones, so lovely it’s insane, spotless. The ceilings are so tall, you tilt your head back, eyeing the chandeliers and the winding staircases, several stories tall. It’s almost as if you’re transported into some royal castle.

“I know, pretentious.” Satoru huffs, making you break out of your reverie, you look up at him, in a stark dark blue dress shirt and slacks, looking like a million bucks as always.

“It’s beautiful.” You say, and his parents smile.

“Satoru is… something else.” His mother says, earning a snort for him, he clearly got the eyes from her, she’s stunning, and the hair from his father, just as tall as Gojo.

“It’s nice to see he’s having a life aside from work.” His dad says, Satoru snags you against him, you feel yourself heat up at it, hard to remember it’s a little harmless ruse when you want it to be real.

The car drive here, his hand on your thigh, as you all zipped around in his sports car was so intense, honestly you don’t have family to go to tonight either, so you truly don’t mind. Maki, Yuta and Toge all had their own things, and were throwing a friendsgiving this weekend anyway. But it’s intimidating to be sure, even though his parents seem very kind.

“Come on in, have a drink.” Mr. Gojo says to you, and you nod.

“I could use one after driving with Satoru.” Satoru sticks his tongue out, Gucci shades lowered on his nose as he glares at you.

“I drive perfectly, thank you.”

“No, too fast, scared the shit out of me.” You stick your tongue out back, earning his mother’s laugh as she puts her arm in his, and he kisses her affectionately on the top of the head.

When you walk into the beautiful kitchen you see a gorgeous dark haired woman, petite and elegant, along with who you recognize as Shoko Ieri, another doctor, but she worked in the maternity ward. So you’re not sure she’d know you, but when you walk in she smiles tiredly, rivaling Yuta for the eye bags, she brushes back dark brown hair and walks up to you.

“Hey! You’re the star intern, hmm?” You flush at the praise.

“Oh I don’t know about-”

“Why the fuck is she here? Ugh!” Satoru pouts now, crossing his arms, and the brunette crosses her arms, raising a brow.

“Because they invited me, shithead.” She says, Shoko snorts in laughter, Satoru’s father gets your attention.

“Red or white, dear?” He asks, as Satoru and the girl stomp to each other, arguing already.

“Um… white, please. Thank you!” He pours you a little glass and you sip it, tasting the tart grape on your tongue. “Delicious.”

“It’s the family vineyards.”

“You have vineyards-”

“Oh whatever Gojo, you are so stupid. You act like because you chose surgery you know so much more!” She’s shouting.

“True, he’s a pretentious ass.” Shoko pipes in.

“Yeah fuck you both, pussy doctor and mommy doctor.” He snorts, looking at you then, seeing your clear confusion. “Pipe in here, intern.”

“I think all doctors are important, and gynecology and maternity doctors literally bring in lives.” Satoru glares now, brows lowering over his glittering eyes, peeking up under those shades.

“I love her already. You’re too good for him.” The brunette says, and Satoru scoffs.

“Now, now kids. Get along, it’s a holiday.” His mother says, and Satoru stomps over to you.

“You’re supposed to have my back, brat.”

“But you’re wrong on this. Also, why so mean? Is she family?” You peek behind his tall frame at her.

“I’m Utahime, his ex wife, thank god. And this… is my wife.” Utahime snatches up Shoko, kissing her cheek, and Shoko smiles just a bit. “You know her though!”

“I do. Oh, oh…. Oh!” You let it sink in, as you look at Satoru, then her.

“Yeah the failed arranged marriage.” Satoru says, turning the glare to his parents.

“We thought they would be perfect together, we had no clue they’d hate each other so much. She burned a whole car of Gojo’s down.” Mrs. Gojo shakes her head with a sigh, Utahime snickers.

“She also bleached all my Gucci shirts. Bitch.”

“Oh you’re the bitch!”

“I can’t believe you two were married.” You say, and Utahime sighs.

“It was a miserable couple years, but it led me to her.”

“Cheated on me with her-”

“You make women run.” Shoko says, and he takes your glass, downing the wine in one gulp. “See!? Oh god speed.”

“She’s not going anywhere.” Satoru pulls you to him again, and they all study you, as he leans down, tilting your chin up, planting a kiss on your lips, you taste the sweet wine on him mixed with Satoru himself. “Right Sweets?”

“Right.” You murmur, hating how much you mean it.

“Well let’s hope so, hey if not we could have a third.” Utahime teases, and Mrs. Gojo snorts her drink almost. “Sorry Mrs. Gojo, she’s pretty though.”

“Um… thanks.” You manage, giggling. Mr. Gojo pours you a drink now, another one for Satoru. “You all seem fun.”

“Fun!? Jesus. Mom, show me like… something you knitted I don’t know. I need to get away from them.”

“Let’s go, Toru.” You think the nickname is adorable, as he gives you all a middle finger now, stomping away.

“Are you sure about him?” Shoko asks, you sigh.

“He’s great, it’s very new but I really am… enjoying this.” It’s all true, you are enjoying this, up to and including whatever juicy drama there is.

“You don’t have to worry about me, I’d love him to be happy, even if he’s a shit.” Utahime comes and puts a hand on your shoulder. “Come on, let’s help get things together.”

*****

Your back is still throbbing a bit from the spinal tap, Satoru notices. A soothing hand on your back as you all are finishing up dinner, now they are serving dessert at the elegant table. “You all right?” He murmurs.

You nod, smiling and putting a hand on his thigh, fuck everything feels so natural about this, about the doctor you don’t truly know yet, but you’re noticing every little thing. He’s clearly a Mama’s boy, he seems to adore his mom, he and his dad seem to have a good relationship but it’s clear him and his mom are extremely close, surprising you since they pushed him into a marriage.

When they started explaining it, it sounded like the families knew each other forever, two of the elite families there are, business conglomerates surely. And when Satoru and Utahime grew up, they just sort of agreed to it to please their parents, not knowing they’d despise each other. Utahime and Shoko are sickeningly cute together, and clingy.

“You sure? Wanna lay down?” He murmurs, you shake your head, Satoru’s mom smiles at you both.

“I’ve never seen you so close with someone, Toru.”

“Certainly not her.” Satoru points to Utahime who rolls her eyes.

“I’ve never seen you so close to someone either.” Shoko says, sipping on her wine and smiling at you.

“She smells good is all.” Satoru teases, making you giggle.

“Are you tired? You all should stay the night, it’s a long drive.” His dad says, you feel yourself heat up at the thought.

“We can stay, is that cool with you?” He asks, you are a little buzzed and so is Satoru, so you nod then.

“I have nothing to sleep in though!”

“I have some pajamas you can wear, don’t worry.” She looks to one of the maids then. “Can you set them up a room?”

A room with Satoru… alone?

Fuck how can you make that, you can’t even stop thinking of fucking him every time you’re in his office, every time you’re in the elevator, when the backs of your hands would touch, when his shoulder would brush against yours. When he’d shoot that sarcastic little smirk at you, when those blue eyes would get lidded just a bit if you two got too close…

It’s too much.

“That would be amazing, thank you. I did a spinal tap and I’m a little beat from it I guess.”

“Everything okay?” Shoko asks.

“Her brain is dramatic and stressy.” Satoru gets a nudge and scowl from you, he snorts, sipping on his chocolate wine, of course he had to have the sweetest concoction there was.

“My brain is indeed stressy I guess.” You roll your eyes. “Can I help you clean up Mrs. Gojo?”

“Oh no, we pay for that, don’t worry. Satoru, run her a bath, would you? She should relax after that. I’ll have her pajamas sent up.”

“I love your mom.” You whisper, he chuckles, Mrs. Gojo smiles.

“I’ll run her one. C’mon, intern.” You say your good nights, Satoru snatches up the chocolate wine bottle with a grin and you follow him up with your own glass that one of the butler’s tops off.

“Damn I could get used to this.” You tease, walking up one of the flights of steps with him, he snatches up your hand with his free one, precariously balancing his wine bottle and his glass in one arm.

“The princess life? Is that what you’ll be, a pillow princess?” Satoru shuts the door behind you, the bathroom - one of many - is breathtaking, the tub is fit for a Princess indeed. You sip your wine, running a fingertip down his chest, earning his little purr that makes you laugh.

“I like to please too, thank you very much.”

“I’m a giver, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Sure Hojo.”

“You don’t believe me!?” You sigh, leaning too close, after last week’s kiss at the bar, you’ve tried to keep a little distance, he makes it hard to focus on anything, and you’re scrubbing in on another surgery Monday, you want to make sure you have your wits about you.

“I believe you to be very giving, if memory serves.” He exhales when you step back, turning. “Could you unzip me?”

He brushes your hair back off to your shoulders, unzipping your dress slowly, revealing the smooth skin of your back to his eyes, his fingers drift down your spine, between your shoulder blades, plump lips pecking sweet kisses as the dress falls to the floor, leaving you in just lacy panties. Satoru’s fingers brush over the place he’d injected earlier.

“Does it feel okay? Hurt?” He murmurs, you shake your head, biting your lip when he drifts his fingers down your hips, goosebumps rising, your eyes flutter closed at the sensations.

“You did really well, and my head feels a million times better. Ah!” Satoru’s fingers press into your pelvis as he pulls you back against him, kissing a trail down your shoulders, your breath comes quicker and quicker, trembling from the insane desire his touch brings. “Satoru…”

“Let me see you, pretty.” You nervously turn, Satoru’s surely seen you get dressed but you have had bras on, when your breasts sway just slightly, the nipples pronounced and at attention, his blue eyes widen, the running water softly splashing behind you both, leaving a trail of steam.

“How’s the anatomy now, Doctor?” You tease, to ease your nerves, but he moans softly, dragging you against him.

“I’m sorry.” He says, you blink a bit in confusion, when he’s kissing you passionately, hands gripping the fat of your tits, hungry and messy, saliva dripping from his tongue into yours, nothing like the kisses you both have shared. It’s eager and hot, teeth biting, tongue taking you over.

“Satoru…” You whisper, his lips kissing down your neck now, he bites it so hard you gasp out from the shock, before he curses.

“The water, shit.” It’s too high now, he laughs with you, breathless, running over to drain some of it and turn the water off. He looks back at you hungrily, hands dripping with water, picking you up and sitting you on the edge of the tub, now on his knees between your thighs.

“Fuck.” Is all you manage, when he’s sucking your nipples into his mouth, one at a time, kissing around the areolas as his hands press against your ribcage. Your hands entwine in silky white locks, head falling back at how perfect it feels. “Why sorry?”

“I’m trying to tease you, not attack, but my brain is short circuiting. You’re so fucking beautiful.” His words make you choke up, when his swirling blue eyes look up under those snowy lashes, lips reddened from your kisses. Your breaths come faster, just your panties a barrier.

“You’re beautiful.” He kisses you again, over and over, when the door knocks, and you jolt. He chuckles.

“Baby we’re not teenagers it’s okay.” You feel your cheeks heat in embarrassment at that, and he grins with those big bright teeth, walking up to the door as the maid hands him pajamas and fluffy towels. “Thanks.”

She leaves, and you turn, slipping off your panties, Satoru has seen your bare ass by now, but you hear his soft sigh, peeking back to see he is flushed, adam’s apple bobbing with desire. You step in, turning back around, and he views your entire body, when you sit down and ease in the fragrant tub the bubbles surround you like a veil, but he’s already seen.

“Not playing hard to get anymore?” His voice is husky.

“I’m just enjoying my Princess treatment.” He laughs, setting down the pajamas and leaning over you, hands on either side of the tub, pecking a kiss on your forehead, you sigh at how good it feels.

“I will wait in the room. Want your wine?”

“Yes please.” He smirks and hands you the glass. “Thank you, this is so lovely really, I don’t remember the last time I felt so good.”

“Oh, sweets…” He cups your face, leaning so close, you taste him, your pussy is just clenching around nothing, remembering his fingers now. You nearly drag him in the tub, clothes and all. “I haven’t made you feel good yet.”

“No?” You raise a brow, he just shakes his head.

“No. I’ll see you in the room, enjoy some time.” You nod and he pecks another kiss, this time on your nose, making your heart falter when he walks out, the lock clicking.

You sip your wine and lean your head back, letting the hot water run over you, feeling it sapping all the soreness from your tired limbs. This week has been insane at the hospital, it seems like the holidays along with a full moon were creating all sorts of insane accidents, so this feels so good.

Satoru’s lips felt superb, the memory alone makes you run your fingers down your own breasts, brushing over a nipple. What is it with him? You don’t want to be a notch in his bedpost, you don’t wanna be part of his fanclub, to be so into the man that everyone else is, but you can’t blame any of them. Satoru is not just gorgeous and sexy, he is kind, smart, funny.

It’s hard to find a flaw.

But you want to guard your heart, especially after going through so very much with your toxic ass ex, you don’t want your heart torn apart, and Satoru Gojo is your boss, so you’d have to work with him for who knows how long. At least the year, and you want to work with him, learn from him.

There’s a million thoughts swirling in your head when you’re drying off, peering at the little fancy slip that’s been brought to you, with a note from his mother to keep it. This is basically brand new tagged lingerie, you slip it on over your skin, swiping at the steam that’s fogged on the mirror, peering at yourself before you slip on the fluffy robe over it.

You head out to the halls, you’re led to the guest room by another butler, you realize they must have several, and you step into the luxurious guest room, where Satoru has his laptop out and a pair of glasses propped on the bridge his nose, you’ve seen him wear them every now and then, fuck if they don’t look sexy.

He peers up and smiles, you shut the door behind you then, slipping off the robe, letting it fall in a pool around your ankles, his throat goes dry as he studies you ever so slowly, your beautiful body in this sexy little satin slip. He licks his lips, taking off his glasses and setting them on the table with a click, standing as he drinks in the sight of you.

“Holy fuck, my mom gave you that to wear!?” He asks, and you giggle, nodding, holding out a tag.

“Can you take this off?” Satoru comes now, taking off the slip completely. “I meant the tag!”

“Yeah, no… your skin is even softer, fuck.” Satoru’s hands slide down your arms, gaze making you melt, his eyes darkening as his pupils dilate.

“I have a five date rule, you know.” You say teasingly, he smirks, raising a thin white brow, picking you up then, completely bare against him, he’s shirtless with a pair of baggy white sweats, and you feel him.

“And what date are we on, intern?” He murmurs, pressing you against the wall, you arch your hips earning his moan, his head falls against your chest.

“Date number two at best, mmm.” He’s kissing your neck again, hitting just the right spots that make you inane, breath tickling your skin, tongue flicking against you, tasting you.

“Hmm, so what was the party then? I count it.” He whispers in your ear, you cling to his bare shoulders, head falling back against the wall.

“Then we’re at three dates. You have two more to go.” Satoru chuckles against your collarbone, biting the thin skin there, you’re soaking wet against him.

“Seems like she’s okay with breaking her rules for me.” He carries you to the bed now, you watch how his muscles flex as he’s over you, you swallow then, taking a breath and cupping his face.

“I’m scared to feel too much.” He sighs, resting his head on yours, hands slipping over every inch of your body, as if he wants to commit it all to memory.

“I’m scared at how much I feel.”

“This will be so messy, Satoru. What if we hate each other? And it ruins everything.” He shushes you gently, a finger to your lips.

“We can wait. Two more dates.” You smile tremulously, biting the lower lip to stop it from shaking.

“I’m aching though.” Satoru’s resolve slips, he slams his lips on yours, tongue messy and forceful, breaking through every last barrier you have, he slips his hands down your tummy, making it suck in at the sensation, bracing himself above you with one hand.

“Then let me take care of you, pretty patient.” You gasp out when he’s running his fingertip over your slit, and you make his abdomen tense when your hand slinks down him, under the elastic of those sweats, finding his cock. “Fuck I can’t handle that.”

“Sensitive, Doctor?” You tease, stroking him now, he groans, sinking his finger inside your little hole, making you scream out, before covering your mouth, he grins down at you.

“S’okay baby, this mansion is fucking huge. No one will hear.” You’re gasping when he so easily presses up in that spot past your slick gummy walls, your arousal drooling all down his hand, you hear it squishing in the quiet room. “F-fuck, you’re s’wet… mmm…”

Satoru’s crying out softly while you stroke him, his pretty pink tip peeking out from the sweats, you run your thumb over the slit where he’s got precum oozing. You lap it off your thumb, tasting the salty white substance, and you watch his eyes flash even darker, his lips parting.

“Fuck.” Is all he manages, kissing you again, before he’s kissing down your body, you’re barely able to catch a breath when he’s kissing between your breasts, down your tummy, his big hands spreading your thighs.

“Satoru… what’re you-ah!” His tongue flicks up your slit, you start gushing wetness out of your hole as a result, earning his smirk.

“Mmm, do you want me to make you feel so good, pretty?” He asks now, handsome face flushed, you nod, watching how his fingers press into the plush of your thighs when he spreads them more. “Then how do we ask?”

“Satoru…” He spits on your pussy now, shocking you, your ex was about as selfish as you could get, and any other men you’ve been with haven’t been freaky, more vainilla. “Did you just spit on it!?”

He grins, swirling the spit around your clit, then smacking your cunt, you gasp at the sensation, moaning as it just makes you wetter. “How do we ask?”

“Please.” Your weak little whine ends him, he tilts his head and starts lapping up all the wetness pouring from your cunt, dripping all over his mouth, his chin, burying himself against you. “Ah!”

You scream out, unable to stop the sound, clinging to silky hair, he’s got his eyes shut in concentration, but then his eyes open, meeting yours, you breathe quicker and quicker, hips rolling up for more. “That’s it, fuck my face baby.”

“Fuck your!? Face!? I-ah!” You’re grinding up quicker with his urging, he yanks your hips down, fucking you with his tongue now, swiping inside your velvety walls, nose bumping your needy clit, so you rub more and more on his face, to his satisfied moans. Satoru doesn’t even apparently need to breathe, he’s drowning in your wetness, drinking every bit of you up.

Doctor Gojo is absolutely well versed in anatomy, because you feel yourself cumming before you can even think to tell him, and your cunt is drooling all down his face when your orgasm washes over you, making your skin so sensitive, pussy pulsing around his tongue. You feel his moan, when he leans up, lavishing your neglected clit now, and you violently jerk.

“Good girl, can you cum again f’me?” You’re done for, completely fucked you realize, when he slides two fingers in your needy cunt. “Fuck look at her sucking them up so good.”

“Satoru what the fuck was that? How- oh my god!” Your words are breathy whines, head spinning when he’s curling those long fucking fingers in you, pressing on that damn spot making you see stars.

“I told you I’d make you feel good. No headaches.” He leans on an elbow, hand pressing your tummy, tongue lapping at your clit now, over and over, your thighs squeeze on his head, feeling his soft hair against you while he’s fucking you with those fingers. “Can you handle both?”

“Both- f-fuck!” Satoru sucks your clit into his mouth now, humming on it while still curling those fingers up, and you shatter, this time even more intense then the previous, you feel like you’re falling off the earth as you pull on his hair. “Too much, too much- oh my god.”

You’re soaking his entire pretty face, dripping down your sticky inner thighs and his chin, he drinks you up, licking you from your ass to your damn clit, sucking on the puffy lips of your pussy and nipping them, making you scream out again, body twitching so fucking embarrassing.

What was this man doing to you!?

“Oh my… I… you…” You feel tears pricking your eyes when he kisses and nips your clit now, the biting shocking you with the pain.

“You’re so yummy, I could do it forever.” He says, flicking that tongue in another circle, you whimper pathetically, sniffling. “Overstimulated baby?”

“Y-yes… please fuck me.” He raises his brows, leaning over you, you’re clinging to his back, nails digging in, leaving little crescent marks on his marble skin.

“What, that counts as two dates?” He teases, you can’t even function now, you’re shoving off his sweats, his cock so big it smacks his belly button.

“You’re demonic, I swear to god. What the fuck.” He’s smirking so pleased, but then he whimpers himself, cock throbbing in your hand. “Lemme suck you.”

“Shit, yeah!?” You nod, giggling, and he flips your positions, you kiss down his perfect, sculpted body, he holds your slightly damp hair back as you lap at the tip of him, precum just oozing out of the slit, earning his groan. “I’m gonna embarrass myself.”

“How so?” You take his cock in your hand, stroking him and spitting on it now, making his eyes widen, he pulls on your hair, groaning when you suck him into your mouth, inch by inch.

“Holy fuck it’s happening.” You laugh just a bit, head still reeling from the orgasms and the wine in your system, Satoru’s clearly very experienced, so to watch him falling apart and taking shaky breaths is the ultimate high. “I can’t hold back, can you take me fucking that pretty throat?”

“Mmhm.” You nod eagerly, and Satoru plants his feet flat on the bed, hips bucking up when starts fucking your mouth, his hand tight in your hair. You’re drooling on his cock, making it sloppy wet, your throat bobbing as you take him deep, burning at the stretch of him.

“Oh fuck, never felt anything s’good- I- f-fuck…” Satoru’s a blushing mess, sexy little gasps as he keeps thrusting into your throat, and you breathe through your nose, struggling to take over eight inches as best as you can. He bottoms out in your throat, your nose against the white hair on his pelvis, he’s stuttering, hips faltering. “Do you like it when I use you, baby?”

You’re soaking wet, eager for more, simply humming as your ass is in the air, thighs pressed together. He’s pulling your hair even harder, using your mouth, your throat, his cock twitching as he shoves all the way in again, moaning and leaning his head back.

“C’mere.” He whispers, pulling you off his cock, your cheeks hollow as you release the suction, and he’s bringing you to straddle his lap, your thighs on either side, coughing slightly into your hand. “Your mouth feels that good, how’s this pussy gonna feel? Gonna take me out.”

You just whine and kiss him, sliding against his cock, it glides ridiculously easy with all the spit and drool on his cock mixing with your cunt’s wetness. He’s kissing you desperately, you taste yourself, and he tastes himself, mixing so fucking messy as his tip hits your clit, and you scream out, spasming on top.

“Cumming like that, m’not even in yet.” He huffs, earning your weak little scowl and making him chuckle. “S’fucking cute.”

“In me.” You order, he grins now.

“Two more dates.”

“Don’t you dare. I know you wanna cum.”

“Your rules.” You grimace, and he’s a snarky little ass hole. “Maybe if you beg for me to break your rules.”

“You little shit. Fine.” You slide off him and he pouts, his cock twitching when you grab it in your hand again.

“You can - mm- beg me, can’t you baby?”

“Sure am not.” You keep stroking him now, and he’s yanking on your body, a whimpering little mess under you. “You can beg for me.”

“I don’t beg, I'm… Satoru… Gojo- fuck!” You keep stroking, smiling at him now, and he slips his fingers back in you, as you two both edge each other in a torturous fucking game. “You beg.”

“N-no… you.” You’re stroking his cock faster, spitting down on it, so he uses his thumb to press on your clit, and your movements falter.

“Beg for my dick inside you, for me to stretch you, fill you up.” His words along with his fingers addle your mind so much you’re swirling, blinking to focus, on who could get the other off first. “You competitive b-brat.”

“You’re a… brat… I… no, you beg.” You glare as you keep stroking him, and then he falls apart in your hand, jerking into it, pumping so much cum it’s insane, the sight of the milky ropes all over his cock makes you push over the edge, and you’re cumming on his fingers, crying out against his neck as you bury your face against it.

“Ngh…” Is all you manage, barely moving your hand now, Satoru eases his fingers out, exhaling, leaning back and smirking at you.

“You’re such a mean little brat. You wouldn’t beg so you jerked me off like some teenager!?”

“And y-you did the same.” You say weakly, damn near collapsing. Satoru shakes his head, grabbing a towel, cleaning you both up, you were coated in his cum from your hand to your wrist.

“I was sure you’d fold. Fuck… did that count as one more date?” He teases, and you giggle, when he comes next to you, pulling you against him.

“No, two more to go it seems. Maybe you’ll be more needy then.”

“Me needy- you almost caved. Bet if I edge you all day at work you will.” He whispers, kissing your throat and stroking your thighs, creating networks of goosebumps everywhere he touches.

“You don’t play fair, Doctor.” He tilts your chin up now, eyes so bright blue it’s almost difficult to handle their beauty.

“I want to know all of you.” He says then, making you choke up with his seriousness suddenly.

“You do?” He nods, stroking your hair now.

“What makes you tick, your flaws… Do you have any? Your past. I want to know every bit of this body. Where you’re ticklish, where you’re sensitive.” You blink back emotions but fail, little tears glimmering under the soft can lights of the ceiling. “I’d wait for you, however many dates.”

“Jesus why do you have to be so…” You just kiss him now, again, over and over, salty tears mixing with his sweet taste. “I’m terrified.”

“I am too. God it’s hard to work when all I can think about is you, thinking about fucking you in every position. Bent over my desk.” You can’t handle the images, as his hands grip your ass cheeks. “Eat that pretty pussy out on your breaks.”

“You’re too much, you know?”

“I know.” You try to calm down, to clear your mind, and Satoru’s already semi hard again, you blink in surprise. “Yeah, it’s never that fast.”

“You gonna beg me?”

“No brat.” You both glare then you sigh, stepping off him and slipping back on the discarded slip, holding out the tag.

“Then we call a parlay for the night, clearly neither of us is backing down yet.” Satoru laughs softly, bending down and biting the little plastic holding the tag, it falls off instantly. “What’s that trick?”

“Haven’t you noticed I’m really good with my mouth?” He murmurs, tilting your chin up, you blush when you see how his cock is just so fucking heavy, still glistening from you, so pretty it makes your ovaries ache.

“I’ve never had it that good.” You admit, earning his satisfied smirk. “Yeah, yeah, you already know you’re that good.”

“Guess what?” He is slipping up his sweats now.

“What, Doctor Hojo?”

He cups your face, bending low at the waist. “You’re the best blow job I’ve had, whole gauntlet. Knew it.”

“Oh I doubt all that.” You eat up the praise however, and his lips kissing yours feel so perfect, it takes so much not to fuck him, god how does he fuck if that’s how he foreplays!?

“Best kisser too.”

“So are you.” He kisses you over and over, you feel your body heat right back up in response, legs wobbly you’re so wet. “Sure you don’t wanna ask for something?”

“Nope.” He snorts, and soon you’re in the bed with him as he’s clicking away at the laptop, glasses back on that perfect nose. “Fuck it’s like we’re married.”

“Ugh, marriage.” He shivers in disgust, you smile a bit, leaning on an elbow.

“Just feels domestic.”

“Yeah, but… I don’t think I’d marry again.” You pause at that, and he’s clicking away at his keyboard now.

“Never?” You ask curiously, running your fingers along the silk comforter.

“God no. I mean I absolutely would date, and have a serious relationship, but certain things I’d never do again.”

“Like the paper?”

“Yeah, the paper, but also I wouldn’t live with someone again.” You don’t know why his words hurt so fucking much, you barely know him and you two aren’t even dating, but it’s like a stab to the heart.

“Oh.” Satoru looks at you now, frowning and shutting the laptop, brushing back your hair.

“That’s a lot to unload on you, I’m fucking sorry. It’s not to say I wouldn’t have a girl like stay with me as much as she wants, I just… would want us to have our own places.”

“But like what if you have kids?”

“Kids?” He blinks at that. “I don’t know, I’ve never considered them.”

“Never?”

“No, why have you?” You shyly look away now, so lost in the passion you forgot you have no clue what he wants.

“So your idea of a serious relationship is…”

“Spending time together, enjoying each other. Talking deeply, sharing things, spending time exploring every inch of each other.” He’s drifting his fingertips across your shoulder. “I can’t marry again though, even if I had kids.”

Shit.

“Was the marriage that bad?”

“It was fucking horrible. You see how much we hate each other. And… well neither of us were faithful.” You pause now, as the words spill from his mouth.

“Oh?”

“I slept with a lot of people.” He admits hoarsely. “Me and her didn’t even… fuck we had sex a couple times the entirety of it, by some forced thing. Parents wanting us to have kids, and it was terrible. I can’t do it again.”

“But if you choose wouldn’t-”

“Baby this is all a tale for another day. We’re just getting to know each other, I don’t need to give you my autobiography yeah?” He’s clearly done with the topic.

“I wasn’t saying you had to.” You pull the blanket up now, mind whirring at him, why do you care so much, you sucked his dick and now what, you want him to wife you up? It makes no sense to be that way.

But something breaks in you at hearing how much the thought of that detests him, perhaps you are old fashioned, you love the idea of getting married, having kids, sure as a doctor it would be a bitch, but you crave a family. Not having parents or siblings can be lonely, and the idea of having your best friend as a husband and then making a little best friend sounds beautiful.

“Have I upset you?” He asks, putting the laptop aside as you shake your head. “I can be too blunt, it’s part of the job. I could’ve said-”

“No, it’s how you feel, and you’re right, we barely know each other. Um, I didn’t mean to pry or whatever.” You turn then on your side, and feel him sink in the bed next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you against him, emotions are in your throat and you don’t know why or how to stop them.

“I’m interested in something serious.” He says softly, you nod, unable to look at him. “That marriage fucked me up, I have my own shit I guess, but it doesn’t mean I won’t take it serious if we get there.”

“I get it, you’ve already experienced a lot I guess.” You say, looking back at his heartbreakingly beautiful face, wondering about him more and more.

“For the longest time I just married my work and fucked around. I guess I also feel horrible for it.”

“But you both did it, you both didn’t wanna be together.”

“Still feels shitty, if that’s what marriage is…”

“It’s your decision, I won’t judge you for it.” He rests his chin on your shoulder when you turn back around. “We’re moving too fast anyway.”

“I did literally drag you here.”

“No, I am glad you did.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, fake dating you was fun for the day.” He kisses your cheek, snuggling you against him more firmly.

“Doesn’t have to be fake.”

Your heart falters. “You wanna date me, Satoru?”

He smiles. “I do, intern.”

You giggle. “Then beg me.”

“Oh fuck off.” You’re both laughing now, it feels too easy, too natural to be against him, to be with him.

“Would you date me? Pretty please?”

You look back at him with now sleepy eyes. “I will.”

He kisses you again, gripping your jaw, fuck it all feels so good you just shove down the things you learn for now. “You’re so scandalous dating your resident.”

“And you’re scandalously dating your intern.” He smiles against your bare shoulder, kissing it once more as he hugs you. “Do you wanna come to our friendsgiving Saturday?”

“I’m invited already!?”

“Of course. It’ll be nice I think.”

“I’ll be there. Good night, Sweets.”

“Night Satoru.”

*****

“What’s in that mind, girl.” Yuta waves a hand in front of your face, you keep checking the phone, hoping for a text from Satoru, dinner starts in about an hour and you had told him to come at four. It’s six and he hasn’t responded or read a text or anything.

“Nothing!” You smile and Yuta’s dark brows draw together, he curiously tilts his head.

“Nothing, huh? Maki, what's wrong with her.” Maki bounces up, hands on her hips, tilting her head so that her emerald hair falls over her shoulder.

“It’s Dr. Hunk.”

“Is not!” You cover your face and grimace. Toge walks in the kitchen now, sitting next to you and putting a glass of punch in your hand.

“Drink?”

“God I love you.” Toge turns bright red, standing now, and you sputter, grabbing his hand. “No, don’t run please!” He’s nervously darting violet eyes, and finally sits back down next to you. “You can’t run from me all the time, we live together.”

“Upset?” He asks, you sigh now, sipping the fruity punch and shaking your head.

“No I’m good, promise.” You rest your head on his shoulder for a moment when the doorbell rings, and Toge opens his mouth. “What is it, Toge?”

“I…” He trails off, gulping.

“It’s Dr. Hunk!” Maki exclaims, Toge tenses, glaring his way, surprising you.

“Do you not like him?” You ask softly, and he just stands up now, as Yuta covers his face and sighs.

“You’re clueless.” He tells you, and Satoru now saunters in, grinning with a big bouquet of flowers.

“Oh you didn’t have to.” You say, he hands them with a bow, patting Toge and Yuta on the head like little kids, towering over you all.

“Of course I did. Hey interns.” He smiles and Yuta rolls his eyes, Toge however glares, and Satoru raises his brows.

“Thank you, Satoru.” You take them and lean up, kissing his cheek, the past couple of days you’ve just texted, after his parents home, so much felt new and so many things still unsaid still.

“You’re welcome, baby.” Your three friends watch curiously as Satoru kisses you right in front of them, then gasping as Toge accidentally pours punch on him. “Shit, this is so expensive! Ugh!”

“Accident.” He says, smirking, and you glare at him.

“Toge!” Yuta and Maki snicker too, and you shake your head. “You all are so embarrassing, I can’t bring anyone home?”

“Sorry, can we wash it?” Maki offers, tearing up from her laughter. You’re dabbing at his shirt with the napkins.

“I have to have these dry cleaned. But I mean… it’s dark so I think I’m okay.”

“I’ll get the stain out, I have something you can wear for a few.” You scowl at your friends. “And behave!”

“Yes Mommy.” Maki teases, you scoff, dragging Satoru up the stairs, digging through your drawers, where you had a ton of shirts from your ex.

“I’m not wearing your ex's clothes!”

“What do you care? Just long enough for the stain to come out.” Satoru takes off his shirt now, revealing the chiseled chest of his, and his sculpted abdomen, your eyes drift lower, remembering how big he is, picturing how good he’d feel. “Cat got your tongue, intern?”

“You’re an ass. That's why Toge did it. And you’re late.” Satoru sighs now, walking up to you, picking you up effortlessly so that your feet just dangle.

“I had an emergency at the hospital, I’m sorry. Are you mad at me?”

“A little.” You pout, and he laughs now, picking you up fully, your legs wrap around slender hips.

“Toge did it because he’s in love with you.”

“Oh god he’s not! He’s my friend.”

“Mmm, sure thing. You’re oblivious, I bet you don’t know how much I like you either, huh?” His words get you off guard, when he’s pressing you down into your bed, that sinks under his weight.

“You like me?” You ask, he nods.

“I like the fuck out of you. Like is a shitty word for how I feel.” You feel the damn same, fuck more than you understand or want to say.

“I like you too, a lot. Even if you’re a dick.” He smiles at that.

“I was worried, after that conversation, you’ve been distant?”

“I didn’t mean to be. I thought we should cool off?”

“You are really hot, especially here.” He presses his length against you under those slacks, you whine out, arching your hips, earning his hands tightening against your hips, thumbs pressing into your pelvis. “Don’t wanna cool off.”

“No?” He shakes his head. “Miss me?”

“Fuck yes I missed you. That little ass running around in those scrubs.” You giggle now, caressing his face. “Should I make you forgive me for being late?”

“Hmm, you wanna make it up to me?” You ask, and he nods, kissing your lips deeply, you melt right under him, grinding up for more as he slips your velvety little red dress up your thighs.

“Don’t we have one more date before I can hit?” He teases, you roll your eyes at him.

“Are you gonna hit and quit?”

“God no. Can only imagine how good you feel around me.” Satoru’s eagerly unsnapping his pants now, and you can’t believe the insanity of the moment, his fingers rubbing your clit over your panties, finding you already soaked. “Just from kissing?”

“I love kissing you.” He pauses then, eyes burning bright blue, darting back and forth across your face.

“I love kissing you.” He whispers back, white lashes casting shadows over his cheeks when he sinks two fingers right in, it’s a stretch but you’re craving it, slick and soaked. “Want me to eat you out again?”

“Yes, but I also want that dick.” He grins, sucking his fingers, cheeks hollowing.

“But you taste s’good.”

“Please… please…” You’re hastily shoving your panties off, and he’s pulling his cock fully out, a tangle of limbs.

“Condoms?” He asks, you curse.

“Shit, no! I could ask Maki but oh my god…” Satoru’s rubbing his cock against your slick folds now, and you’re fucked up already.

“I always use one, I’m good if you’re…”

“Me too. Yes please, I need- ah!” Satoru slides in you, stretching you more than you’ve ever been, so deep you feel insanely full, damn near sobbing as you feel him inside you. Your eyes lock, and his mouth parts, head tilting back as he sinks deeper, until he’s against your cervix. “Oh my god…”

He exhales, lifting a leg up, gripping your ass through the fabric of the dress you’re still wearing. “You’re so tight, fuck baby.” He moans now, resting his head on yours for a moment, your walls are fluttering at the invasion of his huge cock inside of you. “Need a sec?”

“S’big… It’s s’much.” You adjust your hips to it, stuffed so full, he kisses you, pulling back out, then slamming deep again, and you can’t stand out good it feels, you’re clinging to him, nodding now. “I can take it. Please.”

“Fuck.” Is all he manages, lifting your thighs and fucking into you now, hard brutal strokes that make you blinded as he uses one hand to brace himself, the other yanking at your dress, pulling your tits out and lavishing them with his tongue. Your hands dig into the sheets under you, head sinking into the pillows, letting out a moan so loud he claps a hand on your mouth.

You scream out against his hand as he pumps you so full, drooling tip slamming on your cervix, you feel yourself cumming all over him, making him gasp, slowing as he feels you pulsing on him. He eases his hand off your mouth now, long fingers wrapping your delicate throat.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this, can I?” You nod eagerly, thighs shaking as you recover from your orgasm.

“You can resuscitate me, go for it.” He laughs breathless, squeezing your throat now, fucking you harder as he leans up, watching your every expression, watching your eyes roll back and your mouth open in an O.

“So pretty, fucked out already baby?” He taunts you, squeezing harder, and you feel fuzzy, lightheaded as he works you, hips pistoning and hitting spots you never fucking knew existed, the choking making every sensation heightened. He leans over you, pressing in deep and rolling his hips. “Cum again, lemme feel her.”

You’re obeying before you can think, he watches your silent cries as your face reddens from his grip, as your eyes roll back in your skull, cumming in a silent, breathy cry while he presses on your pulse point, squeezing so tight. You feel your ears ringing, blood rushing to your head when he releases you, moaning and kissing you deeply, when you try to suck up air.

“F-fuck it’s s’good, Satoru… I…”

“Feel perfect, baby. Sloppy little cunt, hear her?” Of course you do, you weakly nod, gasping again as he’s lifting your thighs up so high, smushing them against your breasts, you hear the wet smacks of his cock railing you, hear his balls smacking on your ass, hear each breath as you all try to conceal your moans. “Never f-felt anything like you.”

He’s leaning all his weight on you now, hips rolling again, making you sob it’s so fucking good, you’re struggling to breathe, clinging to him tightly. “M’gonna cum again, ngh.”

“Yeah, you’re so easy for me, hmm?” You can’t even glare at his teasing, you just nod. “Such a good girl now, dick made you shut that mouth finally?”

“Shut up g-god.” He’s cupping your face with his big ass hands as he sinks so deep you scream into his lips, shuddering as his curved tip drags on another spot, he’s finding every single one you have, working them when you shiver, when you jerk.

“Birth control?” He asks, and you nod weakly. “Perfect, because no way I’m pulling the fuck out.”

You’re getting fucked even harder now, the sounds of his pelvis smacking against your thighs and the squelching wetness of your cunt stupid loud, his snowy lashes lower over fucked out eyes as he studies you. He slows for a moment then, whimpering like he did last time you sucked him, right in your ear, pumping your cunt so full then, coating you entirely.

“Feel so p-perfect, cum w’me baby please.” He whines the words, and pumps more cum, as he’s fucking you still hard, and his white sticky ropes are dripping out of you, you yank him in for a kiss, crying out your pleasure into his plush lips, he devours your mouth, still pumping.

He’s easing now, hips are stuttering, and you’re crying out. “Too much…”

“I know but it’s too good.” He’s easing your thighs, now sore as fuck, brushing your cheek gently, feeling your aftershocks. “I’m ruined. You’ve ended an era.”

“Whatever.” You snort, rolling your eyes, but he cups your face again, brushing back your hair.

“No, it’s never been like this.” He entwines a hand with yours, and you struggle not to completely fall into his madness, but it’s damn near impossible.

“Me either. I haven’t done…”

“No one has cum in you?” You shake your head with a nervous gesture, biting your lip, he gently pulls it from your teeth. “Don’t worry I’ll fill you up every day.”

“You’re full of it. You’ll go back to Hojo blowjob breaks.”

His eyes narrow as he eases out of you, exhaling at the mess you two have made. “Only from you.”

“I don’t know if I believe it.”

“No? Then you’ll have to see.” He kisses down your body, still half in your dress, you’re thankful the material doesn’t wrinkle.

“Can a Hojo be loyal?” He leans up and looks at you, brows together.

“I will never cheat like that again. That was… a fucked up time.”

“I was kidding! And I wasn’t talking about that, I meant like Miwa.” He exhales then, and you frown. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t tease.”

“No, it’s understandable. Well baby let me tell you.” He keeps kissing up your thigh now, and you’re throbbing at how sore you are, he pulls open your puffy lips to watch his cum pour out of you. “You’re all I want. Look at this slutty pussy.”

He laps some of his cum out of you with the hot tip of his tongue, you gasp at it, oversensitive and he’s such a freaky ass, you can’t believe what he’s doing, grinning up at you. “Satoru-”

“Hate to break it up lovers, got an emergency.” Yuta's voice came from the door, you quickly fixed your dress, Satoru got on his pants, coming up to you and pulling you against him.

“Don’t let this be just once. Want you over and over.” You moan now, hands sliding up his bare chest.

“I’m dripping your cum.” You whisper, he huffs now, fingers slipping back inside your cunt, you cover your mouth not to scream.

“How much of an emergency?” Satoru asks tersely.

“Well Maki is about to kill her ex. He just showed up.”

“Shit.” You curse yourself, taking Satoru’s fingers and sucking yourself and him off them, he snatches you by your hair, kissing you again.

“I’ll fuck you in front of him, maybe he’ll stop?” Satoru’s smirking again, and you laugh, snatching up baby wipes and cleaning yourself quickly.

“Oh no, he’s persistent. Come on.” You drag him, still shirtless, and Yuta is shaking his head as he looks at you. “What!?”

“Where’s the five date rule, champ?” He teases.

“Oh stuff it. I can’t believe he’s here.” You three go down the stairs, where Maki currently has him in a headlock, and you can’t stop the giggle that escapes. She frees him now, and his eyes lock onto you, then to Gojo, glaring now. “Mahito, get the fuck out.”

He brushes off his shirt, glaring at Satoru with deadly ice blue eyes, and Satoru holds you against him, still shirtless, smirking. “Hi there, I’m new boyfriend.”

“Satoru…” You whisper, and Mahito walks up to you now, giving you the biggest, most pathetic puppy dog eyes.

“Sweetheart, let’s talk. Please?” He pouts now, taking your hand, you shake your head at him.

“What are you even doing here!?”

“Just talk to me.”

“Out.” Toge orders, pointing to the door, but Mahito doesn’t budge, just staring at you, his light blue hair a disheveled mess.

“Please.”

“She’s too busy buddy.” Satoru pats him on the shoulder, only for Mahito to punch him, you gasp then, and Satoru’s eyes are terrifying then, the entire room holds its breath as you watch Mahito back up.

“Shit.” You mumble.

“He’s gonna die.” Maki whispers to you, and then she grins. “How was that dick though?”

“Maki!”

A/N- took a departure from the hospital hehe, now you know who her ex is ;) Lots of drama ahead from that messy convo abt marriage too. Can't wait to hear your thoughts!!

Taglist: @lost-resonance @lostfracturess @unfortunately-tia @allofffmypeaches @chiyokoemilia @makingtimemine @antisocialinlw @meg3mis@miizuzu @nanasukii28 @zoeyflower @wstaley2 @bunheadusa @blue-musingss @ameliariddle @moncher-ire @jkslaugh97 @shadeowz @gojo1228 @nanasukii28 @jaeminaur @httpstoyosi @angel1of-death @seeing-stars-alt @bol0-de-morang0 @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @trishiepo0 @inthedarkshadows000 @gina239 @san-it-is-i-guess @pelicanpizza @gojo1228 @ducky1232 @unikornboop @inthedarkshadows000 @eclecticmentalitypersona @burguhndy @levislug

Part Five

#gojo jjk #gojo x reader #jjk smut #gojo smut #satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen #doctor gojo #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x you #satoru gojo

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glossdebut · 2 months ago

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PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ 02

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SERIES SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you.

✧ SERIES TAGS: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut, fake/pretend relationship (not main couple), rockstar!yoongi, model!reader, guitarist yoongi, singer jungkook, bassist taehyung, drummer jimin, manager namjoon, yoongi & maknae line are in a rock band, reader & seokjin are best friends, yoongi & hoseok are best friends (sope duo ftw), yoongi has a tongue piercing, reader is a brat

✧ CHAPTER WARNINGS: aqua uses her journalism degree to write a fake article, lots of yoongi pov, MC lore drop, extremely brief descriptions of sexual acts, some questions are answered but not many, sope cameo! also seokjin cameo! do you detect a hint of hyyh yoonkook-ism? because you should! EVENTS TRANSPIRE! (see series masterlist for series warnings)

✧ CHAPTER WORDCOUNT: 5.2k words

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: damn i always drop early don't i? here's a pre-holiday gift for those of you who celebrate thanksgiving. thank you to tanni @yooniivrse for beta reading SO FUCKING FAST LOL <3

p.s. from here on out updates are going to be much slower. we’re getting to the Real Plot now and i have to use my brain a little bit more. plus i want to make time to write other, shorter things! so be sure to check out my other fics if waiting for this becomes unbearable lol

CH. 02: A HIT IS HARD TO RESIST

Love in the Spotlight: Is "Burn The Stage" Singer Falling for a Scandal Magnet?

It’s the love story that’s rocking Seoul—and leaving fans divided. Jeon Jeongguk, the smooth-talking, chart-topping frontman of “Burn The Stage,” has been the subject of intense speculation after rumors surfaced that he’s been secretly seeing one of South Korea’s most talked about models, YLN YN. And while Jeongguk’s millions of fans would do anything to claim him as their own, it’s YN’s wild reputation that’s making this relationship one to watch.

The dating rumors of the two surfaced online when YN was seen on the balcony at Wasteland during the final show of the Burn The Stage’s world tour. Eyewitnesses claim that after the show, the two were spotted backstage together, sharing a private moment.

While Jeongguk’s image has been polished and pristine despite his rock star persona, YN’s name is frequently linked with controversy. From a string of public feuds with fellow influencers to rumors of reckless behavior, she has garnered a reputation for attracting scandal wherever she goes—a trait at odds with what fans have seen from Jeongguk. So what could possibly draw the two together?

Some fans are already sounding the alarm, warning Jeongguk that dating someone like YN could tarnish his squeaky-clean image.

“I don’t know why Jeongguk would choose her,” one concerned fan commented on Instagram. “She’s trouble, and he’s too good for her. His image will be ruined if this is true.”

Despite the criticism, others are rallying behind the couple, suggesting that Jeongguk may be the one to help YN change her ways. “Everyone has a past,” one fan posted on X (formerly known as Twitter). “Maybe Jeongguk sees something in her that no one else does. People can grow and evolve.”

While neither Jeongguk or YN’s companies have released an official statement on the matter, YN hasn’t been shy about fueling the rumors. In a recent post on her Instagram, she shared a photo of herself wearing a Burn The Stage hoodie, captioning it, “i guess i’ve got good taste 👀” which has sent fans into overdrive speculating that she’s sending a not-so-subtle message about her relationship with Jeongguk.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Yoongi groans to himself. He can’t read any more of this drivel. The wooden table in front of him suddenly looks all too inviting, perfect for him to bash his skull into.

You’re everywhere, completely inescapable for the past week. Apparently, Yoongi’s bi-weekly breakfast with Hoseok is no exception. The first one they’ve been able to have since the tour, too. God forbid he wants to mindlessly scroll on his phone for a second while he waits for his friend to return, because there you are, taunting him.

After the concert, Yoongi had been so annoyed by seeing you again. Pissed off at the circumstances. Ready to do anything in his power to extricate you from Jeongguk as fast as possible.

The past week has dulled his rage considerably. The endorphins of playing live have died, as have the potent emotions that come with them. Yoongi’s logical adult brain has set in, leaving him with only a headache.

“Woah,” Hoseok says, snorting as he slides a coffee into Yoongi’s field of vision. He slips into the booth across from him, taking a sip from his own cup with an amused look on his face. “You look much more homicidal than I left you. What could’ve possibly pissed you off in the last five minutes?”

Wordlessly, Yoongi hands Hoseok his phone, the article still displayed on the screen. Hoseok silently reads the first few paragraphs, and when he scrolls back up to look at the photo attached, his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Oh?” he says, zooming in on your face. On Yoongi’s phone. The audacity. “This is the Innisfree girl, right? She’s dating Jeongguk?”

“Allegedly.”

“Is her skin really that nice in person?”

“Not the point,” Yoongi hisses, snatching his phone back from Hoseok’s grip and hastily closing the article to get your dumb face off of his phone. Dumb, poreless face.

“Okay, touchy,” Hoseok says, raising his hands in surrender. “Please explain the point.”

“I don’t trust her,” Yoongi says, tapping his foot under the table. “The relationship is bogus. She’s after something, I just can’t figure out what it is.”

“And you’re basing this on…?”

“Intuition,” Yoongi says flatly.

“Right. Because your intuition is never wrong,” Hoseok says, tone laden with sarcasm. “Need I remind you that you weren’t the biggest fan of me when we met?”

“I thought you were annoying,” Yoongi agrees. He takes a sip of his coffee to mask a smirk. “Who says I was wrong about that?”

“I’d probably be hurt if you hadn’t essentially bought us couple rings last year,” Hoseok says, waggling his eyebrows. “You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

“Aish, they weren’t couple rings,” Yoongi complains. “Stop saying that. The wrong person is going to hear you and think it’s true.”

“Your ears are pink!” Hoseok exclaims triumphantly, pointing at the evidence. “Your mouth says one thing, but your ears always give you away.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Yoongi grumbles, pulling his beanie down. “Stop changing the subject.”

“Right, right. Sorry, hyung, you’re just so easy to tease,” Hoseok says, not even bothering to stifle his snickering. The bastard. “Jeonggukie’s new lady love. Go. Wait, do you want to fuck her?”

“What?” Yoongi sputters, eyes widening because what the fuck? “No—what? Look, it’s not just intuition, okay? I’m right about her. And you saw what the article said—drama follows her wherever she goes. Maybe she thinks dating Jeongguk will rehabilitate her image, or something like that.”

Yoongi had been so confident that wasn’t the case, since you’ve maintained all of your brand deals even in the midst of your many scandals, but maybe he was wrong. He still doesn’t know why you’re doing this, and it’s like the closer he gets, the less he can see.

“I don’t know,” Yoongi groans, rubbing his hands over his face. “She’s also just a bitch.”

“Okay,” Hoseok concedes, crossing his arms. “If you say so. She’s a bitch who you don’t want to fuck. What are you going to do about it?”

Yoongi shrugs. “I have that dinner tomorrow night. I was thinking of talking to Jeongguk after or something.”

“And telling him that his girlfriend is the devil? I’m sure that’ll go over well.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Yoongi sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Jeongguk is a stubborn kid, but he knows I wouldn’t ruin something good for him. If I word it right, maybe he’ll listen.”

“You’re not wrong. For whatever reason, Jeongguk trusts your judgement.”

Yoongi glares at him. “Go fuck yourself, Hob-ah.”

“Whatever, hyung,” Hoseok says, rolling his eyes. “Let’s talk about something else, please. I haven’t seen you in months.”

Yoongi relents easily. He doesn’t really want to be talking about you either, not when it feels like an ice pick is being jammed into his temple.

He’ll just have to figure out what to say to Jeongguk later.

★ ★ ★

“Wow,” Seokjin says around a mouthful of jjapaguri. “He really hates you, huh?”

He’s fresh out of a long shift at the hospital, but he still headed straight to your apartment at the promise of food and celebrity gossip—his two biggest weaknesses, especially when the food doesn’t have to be made by him and the celebrity is you.

“Seems like it,” you sigh, using your chopsticks to push your noodles around aimlessly. “Normally I wouldn’t care, you know? Like, get in line, asshole.”

“But you care.”

“But I care.”

“Because of Jeongguk,” Seokjin says knowingly.

You drop your chopsticks and groan, stifling the sound by covering your face with your hands.

“Yes,” you concede. “But not because of that. I just want to help him, you know? He got me through a really rough spot last year. I’d feel like shit if I agreed to do this for him and then it ended up blowing up in our faces because of me.”

“Mmm,” Seokjin hums, chewing thoughtfully. “I’m sure the fact that you’re in love with him is a big motivator, though.”

You pick up your head, glaring at him. “Love is a big word, Jin.”

A very big word, you think, picking up your glass of wine to take a long gulp. God help you.

“A fitting one, too!” he says gleefully. “Come oooon. No judgement here. He’s hot. Not as hot as me, of course, but I have to give credit where credit is due.”

“Yes, you’re a god among men,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. “I don’t love Jeongguk. Not like that, at least. Do I need to remind you of the whole reason I’m doing this in the first place?”

“Yeah, yeah, the secret girlfriend,” Seokjin says, waving a hand dismissively. “Whatever. You’re spending a lot of time with him, is all I’m saying. The tides may turn in your favor.”

Wow, and you thought you were delusional.

“Fat chance,” you deadpan, polishing off your wine. “Especially if Yoongi is as persistent as he’s making himself out to be.”

“What’s his beef with you, anyway?” Seokjin asks, snorting to himself as he picks up a piece of steak with his chopsticks. Hilarious. “I feel like he’s going a little far for it to just be protectiveness, you know?”

Right. When you’d given Seokjin the rundown via text, you’d left one pretty substantial piece of information out.

“He said, um,” you start, picking at one of your nails nervously—a habit that Hyerin would smack you on the back of the head for, if she were here. “He said that he knows… more than I think.”

Just like that, all of the humor drains from Seokjin’s expression. “Meaning…?”

“I don’t know,” you say, your voice wobbling just a bit. “I don’t know, but if it does mean that… It makes the idea of rolling over and doing what he says pretty enticing, not gonna lie.”

“Fuck that,” Seokjin says firmly, your eyes widening in response. “If he’s the type of guy to use something like that as blackmail, then he’s a piece of shit. I don’t care if he is trying to protect Jeongguk.”

“He can’t know, though,” you groan, fully resting your head on the cool marble of your kitchen countertop now.

You’ve been wracking your brain for days now, trying to figure out if it’s even possible for Yoongi to know anything. You’re pretty confident the answer is no, but there’s no way to be one-hundred percent sure without confirmation from the man himself. And you’d honestly rather die.

“Nobody knows except the people involved and you. You’re the only one who didn’t sign an NDA, and I’m pretty confident you’ve never met Min Yoongi. Not to mention you just wouldn’t—”

“Share that information? Hell no, I wouldn’t,” Seokjin interrupts, scoffing. “Okay, well… Regardless of whether he knows anything, he honestly just sounds like a dick and I think you should kill him.”

You snort, lifting your eyes to look at him from where your head rests on the counter. “Maybe that can be plan B,” you offer.

“Fine, then what’s the plan A?” Seokjin counters, crossing his arms and raising a conspiratorial eyebrow at you.

Fantastic question, one you’ve been thinking about the answer to since you abruptly left the afterparty that night. It’s not like you can tell Jeongguk what’s going on and risk having to tell him the whole truth. You trust Jeongguk, but…

No, it’s not an option. You don’t want anyone else to know. So, if Yoongi’s going to insist on being a problem for you, you might as well return the favor. It’s only fair.

You grin, lifting your head and leaning closer to Seokjin.

“I’m going to make his life a living hell.”

★ ★ ★

Yoongi hasn’t touched a cigarette since he was twenty one years old.

He picked up the nasty habit at sixteen, when one of his friends doled out African Ice Jacks amongst the group, bragging that his hyung had bought the pack for him. As soon as the lighter was flicked on and the bittersweet taste of bubblegum and tobacco filled Yoongi’s lungs, he was hooked.

It was stupidly easy to get his hands on cigarettes before he was of legal age, even when his friend’s hyung couldn’t supply them for whatever reason. All of the adults around him smoked, including his parents.

It felt as though cigarettes were an extension of his hand, felt wrong when he didn’t have the option to light one up. During school hours, Yoongi’s fingers would twitch on his desk as he waited for his last class to end.

He was a fucking anxious, wound-up kid. Smoking was the only thing that helped, sometimes. If he had a shit day, at least he could have a cigarette.

When the band got signed, though, things changed. Despite the fact that the majority of the population in Korea smoked, celebrities were vilified for it in the media. For whatever fucking reason. Yoongi didn’t care much what the media had to say about him, but he reasoned that it would be pretty stupid to let his dream die over Ice Jacks. So he quit.

It was hard at first, but it’s been five years now. After so much time, it’s rare that cigarettes even cross his mind, even when others smoke around him.

Sitting across the table from you now, though, Yoongi’s fingers twitch just like they had when he was in grade school staring at a clock.

He and the band started frequenting Yoojung Sikdang long before there was any real hope for fame. It was their chosen spot after every practice. The ajumma who owns it knows their names, remembers their orders by heart. Over the years, the only part of the restaurant that’s changed is their autographed photos on the wall. They’ve celebrated every single milestone here, big or small, just the five of them. Alone.

Wrapping up their first world tour should be no different. It’s their biggest milestone yet, and all Yoongi wanted was to eat ssambap with his best friends. Remind himself that none of the fame matters as long as they still have this.

But here you are. Of course. Encroaching on everything Yoongi’s built, everything he holds dear to his heart.

The only time it’s ever been more than the five of them here was the night they signed their contract, accompanied by two label executives. Even if you’re allegedly riding Jeongguk’s dick, no way are you that fucking important.

Yoongi would laugh if he wasn’t so pissed off. You are such a fucking pest. He just can’t shake you off.

“You don’t like what you ordered?” Jimin asks you, snapping Yoongi out of his thoughts.

Yoongi’s made an effort to keep to himself for the majority of the dinner. No use in ruining everyone else’s night—it’s still a special one, after all. Besides, he’s still trying to be an adult about things. You may have ruined his plan to talk to Jeongguk tonight, but it’s not like he’s going to cause a scene in front of a restaurant full of people—

“Oh, I’m just not very hungry,” you say. Yoongi’s eyes narrow.

All you’ve been doing all night is burrowing into Jeongguk’s side, barely touching your food. Lipgloss still perfectly in place. Normally, Yoongi wouldn’t care—he’s not paying for it. He wastes food on the label’s dime all the time. At Yoojung Sikdang, though?

“Why did you come, then?”

The words come out of Yoongi’s mouth before he can stop them, sharp and pointed. He’d fully intended to keep his mouth shut, eat his food, and then go home. Maybe buy a pack on the way. But now they’re out there, and Yoongi can’t bring himself to care. Certainly not to feel bad.

For the first time since you’d walked in on Jeongguk’s arm, you make eye contact with him. On purpose this time—challenging. Yoongi’s not a little bitch, so he stares back.

“Because Jeonggukie invited me,” you say, faux sweetness dripping from your words as you lean your head on Jeongguk’s shoulder. Eyes still fixed on Yoongi. “I figured it would be okay, since you all gave me such a warm welcome last time.”

Yeah. Yoongi’s buying that pack of cigarettes.

“You’re always welcome to come out with us,” Taehyung coos, like he thinks you’re the cutest thing in the world. Knowing Taehyung, he probably does.

Everyone seems to be in agreement on that front, too, except Yoongi who rolls his eyes as he shoves a ssam into his mouth. Whatever.

“It’s gonna be hell getting you out of here, though,” Namjoon adds from Yoongi’s left. He leans over to glance at the crowd of people peering through the front of the restaurant, cameras at the ready, desperate to get a glimpse of you and Jeongguk. Not that you’re making it particularly hard.

“We’ve never had a crowd like that out there,” Jimin says, in awe. “I’m not surprised, though. Those articles about you two have been getting tons of clicks.”

“Ah,” you say. If Yoongi didn’t know better, he’d think you sound almost sheepish. “That, um. That might be my fault. I told my manager I was coming here. She must’ve tipped someone off.”

Of course.

“Anything for a photo-op, right?” Yoongi sneers, unable to help himself. It’s such an easy shot, after all. You’re being so transparent.

“Hyung,” Taehyung says, eyes wide as if he’s appalled.

“I’m sorry, Yoongi-ssi,” you say, tilting your head at him. That little flash of a challenge is still in your eyes, and Yoongi doesn’t like it one bit. “Do you have a problem with me being here?”

Yoongi scoffs, sitting up. When he speaks, it’s laced with bitterness. “We just don’t normally come here with guests, that’s all. I guess I didn’t get the memo that that’d suddenly changed.”

“I invited her, hyung,” Jeongguk says. “She’s my girlfriend.” He wraps his arm around you protectively and, fuck, you’re good. You’re so good at making Yoongi look like the asshole.

“I get that, Guk-ah,” Yoongi tries, his voice considerably softer now. “But, come on… Here? And the mob outside, I mean… Do you really think that was just a harmless mistake?”

“What are you implying?” Jeongguk grits out. He’s angry now, that much is clear, and it’s Yoongi’s fault.

You have him trapped. He’s surrounded by landmines, unable to come up with a single response that could possibly defuse them.

“Come on, guys,” Namjoon says, glancing at Yoongi pointedly. “We’re here to celebrate.”

“If Yoongi-ssi is uncomfortable that I’m here, maybe I should go,” you say, making to get up.

Jeongguk reaches for your arm, stopping you. “No,” he says. “Yoongi-hyung, you can either get over it and stay with us, or you can leave. You’re the only one who doesn’t want her here.”

Un-fucking-believable.

“Are you serious?” Yoongi scoffs, looking around at everyone. Is this really happening to him right now? This is his band!

The table is deadly silent. Everyone refuses to meet Yoongi’s eyes except you and Jeongguk, who raises a challenging eyebrow at him. It’s immediately apparent to Yoongi that he’s not winning this one. That somehow, he’s ruined the night meant to celebrate him and his friends.

Bitterly, Yoongi laughs. “Fine.”

No one protests when he pushes his chair away from the table and stands up, and that stings much more than Yoongi would like to admit.

He catches your eye as he grabs his jacket off the back of his chair, anger flaring at how pleased you look.

“Have a nice fucking dinner,” Yoongi mutters, before turning on his heel and walking towards the door. Leaving his friends to face a crowd of photographers and fans that you called.

As he walks out into the cold, dodging the phones being shoved in his face, all he can think about is the way Jeongguk had looked at him.

★ ★ ★

You met Jeon Jeongguk a year ago, give or take a few months. You just remember it was cold.

Less than twenty-four hours after a particularly nasty breakup with a guy you didn’t love but liked enough, you were back on the clock. Zipped into something tight and expensive, wearing the best waterproof mascara money could buy.

You hated those events to begin with—the galas, end of year ceremonies for awards you were no longer viable to win. They were torture for you. But the sting of being freshly single only made things worse, so you had decided to make the most of it.

You may not have been able to win a KMA, but you were well within your rights to treat the KMAs themselves like your own personal dating pool. No better way to rid yourself of your ex like getting with someone new, you thought.

Which is where Jeongguk came in, devastatingly hot in his tailored suit. You’d ran into him on your way from the bathroom—much like you had with Yoongi, now that you think about it—and you instantly found yourself wondering what it would be like to kiss a guy with a lip ring. Jeongguk, as it turned out, was very interested in showing you.

You were both a little drunk, but the attraction was real. Instant.

One very handsy cab ride later, and you were in his apartment, grinding on his lap as you experienced first-hand just how little of an obstacle a lip ring can be if the man who has it knows what he’s doing.

Things were going so well—Jeongguk’s tongue exploring your mouth as you felt his cock stiffening beneath you. But it all came crashing down as soon as his hand slid under your dress.

The fact of the matter was, you’d just been dumped. Regardless of how strongly you did or didn’t feel about your ex, you’d still been dumped and it still hurt. As soon as Jeongguk really touched you, it became all too apparent that you wouldn’t be able to go through with it. Luckily, at the slightest bit of hesitance from you, Jeongguk’s hand immediately retreated from under your dress.

He was sweet about it. Really, really sweet. Valiantly ignored his erection and offered to listen instead, which made you laugh. Comforted you even though you hadn’t thought you needed it. Let you sleep in his bed anyway. When you left the next morning, kindly offered to be your friend, because you clearly needed one.

You’ve been friends ever since.

Not in the same way that Seokjin is your friend, of course. Seokjin is your best friend, has been since you were both kids. But Jeongguk just… He gets the industry, in a way that Seokjin never will.

Which brings you to last month.

Last month, when Jeongguk called you nervously in the middle of his tour schedule. Asked you to be his fake girlfriend in guilty, hushed whispers.

You didn’t need to know why. You were always going to say yes.

But Jeongguk explained anyway. He explained that he has a girlfriend, a real girlfriend, who isn’t from your world. That he hasn’t been able to see her nearly as much as he’d like to because he’s terrified of the backlash she could receive from being connected to him romantically.

You read between the lines—you have nothing to lose, at this point. There isn’t a day that goes by where someone online doesn’t have something to say about you, reputable or not.

He explained that in order to maintain the lie, no one in the industry could know the truth, not even Jeongguk’s bandmates. According to him, they wouldn’t understand why he felt the need to go to such lengths. You didn’t completely agree then, but having met Yoongi now, you get it.

His girlfriend knows about you, he’d told you. She knows who you are, knows about that night last year, and that she still agreed to let him ask you this. She doesn’t see you as a threat.

It stung, a little. Of course it did. You and Jeongguk may be friends, but you’ve always felt a hint of something else there. Maybe it was the kindness he’d shown you when you met. Maybe it’s just him. But you never said anything, convinced it was one-sided.

Clearly you were right.

Still, you want to do this for him. You care about him, and just because you can’t maintain a stable relationship doesn’t mean Jeongguk doesn’t deserve a chance at one.

You think, if Yoongi knew, he’d feel the same.

★ ★ ★

Five years down the drain, Yoongi thinks. Ashes his cigarette. Oh well.

Honestly, it’s not even really about you, although Yoongi would love to pretend otherwise. If he pins it all on you, it makes his mission to get rid of you all the more noble. The label breathing down his neck. The impending deadline of an album he doesn’t know if he can write. Dongsaengs that don’t know how to stay out of trouble. If it’s all your fault, it can’t be his.

This—the smoking—was bound to happen, with or without you. You just helped the process along.

He’s perched on his windowsill, puffing his way through cigarette number two, when his phone buzzes next to him.

Namjoon doesn’t call him nearly ever. Yoongi has a way that he likes things done, and Namjoon is probably his only friend that actually respects it. Emails for work. In-person or texts for personal shit. Video calls never. Phone calls only if Yoongi needs to hear it now and there’s no other way.

Yoongi picks up.

“Joon-ah?” Cautious. He likes phone calls the least because phone calls mean trouble, like someone is in the hospital. He’s gotten that call before, more than once.

“Hyung,” Namjoon says. “Do you have a minute?”

Namjoon wouldn’t be asking that if someone was in the hospital, so Yoongi allows himself to unclench. Just a little. “Yeah, I have a minute.”

He hears rustling on the line, like Namjoon is fidgeting. But Namjoon is always fidgeting, so that could mean nothing.

“I figured, given the events of tonight, that it would be a good call to warn you ahead of time. I would’ve come by your apartment, but I’ve got meetings all morning tomorrow and it’s late. I didn’t want to wait until next time I see you though, so…” Namjoon starts, trailing off.

Yoongi works his jaw. “Spit it out, Joon-ah,” he says, because Namjoon is shit at delivering bad news. He’s always beating around the bush, trying to soften the blow. It’s great for the kids, but it makes Yoongi feel like he’s about to have to bury his first-born or some shit. Yoongi likes clear, direct.

Namjoon knows this, so he always gets it right on the second try.

“YN is going to the Jeju house with you guys,” Namjoon says. Clear and direct, but the absolute last thing Yoongi wants to hear right now.

“You’re fucking with me.”

“I’m not.”

“She has literally no fucking reason to be there, Joon-ah,” Yoongi grits out. The cigarette secured between his index and middle knuckles has burned down to nothing, singes his fingers. He hisses and flicks it out the window. “Is she going to help us write an album? Is that it?”

“Hyung—“

“No, she isn’t. She’s going to distract my lead singer the whole time and make the whole point of the trip fucking impossible,” he interrupts, because once he gets started he can’t stop. “Who signed off on this? Doesn’t she have a job? Isn’t there a goddamn camera that needs to be smoldered at?”

“Yoongi-hyung,” Namjoon says. He’s using his manager voice, and Yoongi shuts up instantly.

Namjoon uses this voice on the kids all the time. Realistically, it’s not a big deal. It’s his job. But he’s never had to use it on Yoongi before.

He deserves it, though. Yoongi knows that. He knows that he’s been insufferable ever since you showed up, and he doesn’t like it either. He’d wanted to talk to Jeongguk, to have a heart-to-heart with him about it, but that’s proven impossible given that you’re always around. And Namjoon is their voice of reason.

Yoongi tries again.

“I don’t like her,” he explains, keeping his voice level. “I don’t think she has Jeongguk’s best interests at heart. I’m just trying to look out for him.”

The line stays quiet for a long moment, like Namjoon is taking special care in choosing his next words. It would make Yoongi nervous, but that’s just what Namjoon does.

“Hyung, you need to leave it alone,” he finally says.

What the fuck.

Yoongi could have foreseen plenty of responses from Namjoon. He’s been on the receiving end of Namjoon’s sage advice more than he’s proud of. Yoongi worries a lot, and Namjoon is particularly good at quieting those worries, particularly when they pertain to the kids. And they usually do. But he sure as shit wasn’t expecting to be blown off like that.

“Joon-ah, Jeongguk is gonna—“

“Jeongguk is a grown man. He’s fully entitled to make his own decisions, and you need to respect that if you don’t want to lose him.”

Lose him? Is Yoongi going insane? Is he fucking missing some integral piece of this puzzle that everyone else seems to have?

The notion of losing Jeongguk is completely absurd. How could he lose Jeongguk over something like this? Jeongguk, the college freshman with the huge eyes who followed Yoongi around like a puppy. Jeongguk who sang so softly when Yoongi asked, who beamed with pride when Yoongi told him he had something special. Jeongguk who dropped out alongside Yoongi, took a risk because he trusted his hyung to take care of him.

It was Yoongi and Jeongguk before it was anyone else, and Yoongi has never let Jeongguk down once, won’t allow himself to. This is the thing that’s going to change that?

“What are you even talking about?”

“Just… leave this one alone, Yoongi,” Namjoon sighs. “She’s coming whether you like it or not, and you need to at least pretend to play nice.”

Yoongi doesn’t appreciate being treated like a child who’s the cause of his parent’s headache, not by Kim Namjoon. The label dickheads are one thing, but the one person Yoongi has entrusted with everything for the past five years? Before that, even? Fuck that. Namjoon doesn’t talk to him this way, and that’s not about to change because of you.

“Namjoon-ah, if you’re going to blow me off, at least put my cock in your mouth and do it right,” Yoongi spits, hanging up before he can think better of his words.

Fuck.

Yoongi hasn’t bitten Namjoon’s head off like that in a long time. It doesn’t feel good to be back in old patterns like this. Yoongi knows why he doesn’t trust you, but he doesn’t know what it is about you that makes it so—urgent. Like he’s a wild animal primed to bite. To hurt. Yoongi isn’t that guy.

If what Namjoon said is true, if Jeongguk really is at risk of slipping through Yoongi’s fingers, he has to get his fucking act together. He has to try harder to handle this like an adult.

So, you’re coming to Jeju. Fine. Yoongi can be civil.

Even if the only way for him to be civil is not to speak to you at all.

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