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ahundredtimesover · 3 months

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I Want You to Stay (03) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 14.8k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: I've been thoroughly enjoying your asks and replies about this story (sorry I can’t get to each one!) I see that a lot can relate to what OC's going through and I'm sending you hugs! 🤗 Again, I appreciate your love and excitement. And uh... Golden JK in that white tank. YUP. 🤭 Hoping you enjoy this one!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

The spring in your step tightens the closer you get to Jungkook’s penthouse the next Monday. Walking here to start another week, there’s a mix of emotions you’re carrying with you.

You got to spend a proper weekend. On Friday, you made yourself some cold noodles and then watched a movie with Jimin and Soomin on video call, who’d said they’ll be visiting you in a week. You took the train to Daegu on Saturday, went to the park, then stayed in to enjoy Min-woo’s cooking and the girls’ stories about school and their youth clubs. You then buried yourself in your mother’s embrace as you told her about your week. You didn’t want to say too much, not wanting her to worry that her daughter isn’t being treated well at her job, but you suppose you said enough.

“I wish I was strong enough to protect you from everything,” she’d told you softly. “All I can do is just give you hugs and say words of encouragement that might not even mean much.”

“And you still are, mom. I look forward to being with you because of those hugs. But more than that, you were strong enough to protect me from the bad guys,” you’d assured her. “Jungkook is many things but he’s not a terrible person. I can handle him.”

And you meant it. He may be hot-tempered sometimes but he’s not evil. But just because he made you go home early last Friday, it also doesn’t mean he’s suddenly redeemed in your mind. Sure, he didn’t email you at all over the weekend unlike last time, but he also still didn’t apologize to you nor show remorse.

Perhaps that small nod after he called you telling you that you could go home was his way of saying sorry, or maybe it just isn’t in his vocabulary. You wonder if Hoseok had told him off but even then, it’s a pretty quick change, if you could call it that.

Regardless, you felt like a human being again these past few days; you just wish Jungkook woke up on the right side of the bed this morning and doesn’t find a reason to complain about you.

Unlocking the door, you’re surprised to hear silence - there are no grunts and deep breaths nor the sound of leather hitting leather from his morning workout. You scan the floor before walking around - a habit you’ve developed after finding that laced underwear last week - and then peep into the door on the right, only to find untouched equipment and no other traces of him.

You’re in the living room when you hear another door close, prompting you to turn around and see a woman appearing from the hallway on the other side of the penthouse. Her hair’s a bit disheveled and she’s wearing one of Jungkook’s coats that you saw in his closet.

“Uh, who are you?” The woman scoffs, her arms crossed and eyebrows raised now.

Taken aback, you just stare at her, until you realize she’s not wearing anything underneath so you look away.

You try to make sense of who she is and how you could get out of this situation. You know for a fact that Jungkook doesn’t have a girlfriend, at least that’s what Lucas had told you, but who knows what Jungkook’s been up to since he got back? There was that red laced underwear from last week after all. Maybe he does sleep around like what Do-hyun said. Maybe this woman just doesn’t know Jungkook has a female assistant. Maybe he’s—

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” she says, sounding more annoyed now.

“Oh. Uh, I’m Mr. Jeon’s—”

“She’s my assistant,” Jungkook answers, catching you off guard, given that you hadn’t noticed him walk in.

He’s not in his usual workout attire, although him in a white tank top and gray sweatpants with mussed hair somehow seems more overwhelming than him in nothing but gym shorts. You glance at him as he stands next to the woman, whose face suddenly lights up. Not wanting to look at her, you shift your gaze towards the ceiling, trying hard not to look awkward as you’re rooted in place.

The woman looks at you from head to toe and you feel her judging you, assessing you, while Jungkook stands there, yawning and combing his hair with his fingers.

“Just your assistant?” She asks, sounding incredulous.

“Yeah. What else would she be?” Jungkook answers nonchalantly. Looking at you, he nods ever so slightly that you almost miss it, another hint of acknowledgement you’d seen last Friday. “Just eggs on toast. And coffee.”

“Yes, Mr. Jeon,” you say, exhaling the breath you were holding and then walking to the kitchen to start on his breakfast.

“I don’t know, another one of your girls? I see you with a new one every time,” she huffs, sounding bitter, but Jungkook doesn’t sound amused.

“What are you still doing here?” He asks, walking to where you are then taking the glass of water you prepare for him. “I called a service for you last night.”

“I was too tired,” she says, and you don’t miss the sultry tone of her voice now. “You tired me out, Jungkook. I could barely get off the bed.”

“And why are you still here?” He asks, clearly not having it with her teasing.

“Because I’m still tired,” she smirks, having followed him to the kitchen.

You feel tense once more; you definitely don’t want to be part of this conversation in any way nor be privy to it, especially given what obviously happened between them last night. And especially not with Jungkook looking and sounding the way he does this early Monday morning.

“And I was thirsty,” she continues.

He sets his glass down and opens the refrigerator and takes out a bottle of water that he hands over to her.

“Ugh, how romantic,” she rolls her eyes, finishing it in a few gulps.

“I have to go to work,” he tells her, frustrated that she’s being stubborn about not leaving when he no longer seems to want her around.

“Actual work, or, you know, work?” She says, gesturing towards you.

You make the mistake of looking at her smug face, the insinuation not lost on you. It’s insane how she can just make claims like that, and you feel that just like you, Jungkook’s getting pissed.

“Can you just leave?” He says much more sternly now. “I can’t start my day with you still here.”

“Ooh, how rude,” she giggles. “Should’ve expected you’d be like that even outside of bed. I like that.”

She walks back to the room, leaving you and Jungkook on your own. You continue to work on his eggs while he stands by the counter, rubbing his temples. You’re unsure if it’s because of her or from last night’s alcohol, but you get aspirin and also a bottle of energy drink and set them in front of him before returning to preparing his meal.

The woman comes back shortly in last night’s attire then walks towards Jungkook.

“I’m leaving,” she announces, tilting his chin so he would face her. “I’ll see you again, yeah?”

Jungkook turns away and does not respond, leaving her to laugh as if there’s a joke that only she’s in on.

“Going all quiet on me now, huh?” She says. “You weren’t like that last night. I can still hear your moans, actually. Fuck, they sounded so good and so loud.”

You almost hit your finger as you slice the apple, clearly not expecting for this stranger to say something so intimate, knowing there’s another person in the room with them. You don’t know if she wants to intimidate you for whatever reason or maybe just make you feel uncomfortable. Whatever it is, it’s working, as you’re unable to focus on the task at hand now.

Jungkook still doesn’t say anything, and it’s what prompts her to finally say goodbye.

“Fine, I’ll leave now,” she whines. “But that was an amazing first time. I hope it won’t be the last.”

Her giggle annoys you for some reason, even more when you mistakenly look her way. Her smug face unnerves you as she holds your gaze while she says, “I’ll see you again, okay? I’ll make sure you’ll scream my name next time,” the words obviously directed at Jungkook.

She finally exits the penthouse but she doesn’t take the tension with her because in this large apartment with you and him, you feel a little too hot, a little too alert, yet somehow a little too curious.

Jungkook groans now as he finishes his energy drink, and he doesn’t know what he’s more frustrated about - the fact that the woman whose name he doesn’t remember didn’t go home, or that you’d found out about it in the most embarrassing way and he’d done nothing to stop her attempts at making you feel uncomfortable because that’s definitely what she was doing.

He doesn’t know how it affected you but even he can tell that it wouldn’t have been good. Not that he’s ashamed of his lifestyle but it’s different when you, of all people, get to see what that looks like. You did see the laced underwear on his kitchen floor last week, and he knows you definitely tried to pretend you hadn’t. Perhaps the image of arrogant, playboy Jungkook just solidified in your head and the fact that maybe that’s what you think of him is making him feel uneasy.

Not that he cares about what you think - he definitely does not - but he just doesn’t want that to affect how you would treat him in a professional sense, as if he’s some reckless man who works too hard and parties much harder, even if that’s kind of what he does.

The hangover doesn’t help at all; he shouldn’t have chugged that wine while the woman was giving him head, which was amazing, he reminds himself. He just knows he won’t be seeing her again after this morning because she’d been stubborn and shameless, and definitely not because of how she spoke to you and the insinuations she made.

“Mr. Jeon, your breakfast is ready,” you inform him, breaking him out of his thoughts.

He takes a seat on the table and you sit next to him, taking out your iPad to start your rundown of last Friday’s meeting and this week’s schedule.

“So—”

“Wait, give me a minute,” he stops you, and he realizes just how little sleep he actually got and he’s gonna have to push through today’s busy schedule despite feeling physically out of it.

“Okay, sir,” you say softly.

He munches on his toast with his eyes closed, and when he opens them, his gaze falls on you, sitting upright on the chair looking clean and proper in your blush blouse and beige skirt. You seem to be reviewing the reports from last week, your eyebrows scrunched as you scribble on the screen. He knows you took the hours-long trip to and from Daegu over the weekend; the visit, just like any, must have been tiring. Yet you come to his place everyday without fail, ready to do what he needs you to do, and he doesn’t even know if you’ve had anything to eat yet.

“Have you had breakfast?” He asks.

“E-excuse me?”

“Breakfast. Have you had it?”

“O-oh. Yes, I had some crackers and fruit on the way. I ate on the bus,” you respond.

He remembers your address from your staff profile. You live about 40 minutes from him, almost double if you commute. You come at 6:30 everyday, so he can only imagine what it’s like for you every morning.

“Why don’t you drive?”

“I don’t have a car, sir.”

“Shouldn’t that be part of your contract? Or a benefit of some sort?”

“It isn’t. I believe only the CEO’s assistant does,” you respond.

“Bitna has a company car.”

“Ms. Jung requested that when she was still President.”

“Then I’ll request one for you. It's… it’s too early. And you can’t always be assured of public transportation. There could be delays. Or an emergency that would require you to drive.”

Of course, he’d want you to get a car so that you’re more accessible to him. Just when you thought there’s actually a bit of his heart working this time, he reminds you why there isn’t.

“That’s true, but nothing has happened so far. And there are other options should there be,” you say. “I also don’t know how to drive so there is no need, Mr. Jeon. I leave my apartment early enough to make sure I get here on time, and I’ll let you know if I will be late.”

Jungkook just hums, even if there’s more he wants to know. What about late nights? What if there’s a storm? Well, he does know - he did see you miss out on taxis and then just walk last Tuesday; he wonders how you got home then, and how many hours of sleep you had after all that.

He lets it go; it’s too early to think about this.

“Good. We can run through the minutes now,” he says.

So you do, stating the points and confirming your actions for each one and then noting down his as well. You try to focus, and you’re able to for the most part, but it’s not easy when he sits just a few feet away from you, with his bare arms propped on the table that’s just hard to look away from.

You’ve always liked tattoos on other people, and the art on his right arm looks so delicate and personal; you wonder what someone like him would value enough to ink permanently on his skin. Even his untouched arm is mesmerizing, toned like every other part of him, with beauty marks that you spot as well. It doesn’t help that his slightly long hair keeps falling over his eyes, prompting him to comb them with his fingers every time.

What also doesn’t help are the woman’s words from earlier, as she’d managed to make you think of Jungkook in a very different way, given her descriptions of how he’d been last night. You don’t know what she intended by doing that, but you didn’t miss her insinuations about your relations with him, which are definitely far from the truth. Learning that he’s rough and loud in bed is also knowledge that you could’ve done without. Somehow, he sounds like how he looks - expressive of negative emotions, and the type to drain the other person.

He also sounds like the guys you’ve slept with.

The thought alarms you. These are things you shouldn’t be thinking about your boss, about the man who pays you, about the one who makes you miss meals and buses and who makes you angry because of how he treats you.

You try to dispel these ideas by coughing - the loud sound helps, and you also want to distract yourself from how distracted you are at your task because somehow he keeps getting more and more attractive after every glance.

He stands up, and just when you thought he’d be angry after your disruption, he surprises you by placing a glass of water in front of you.

“You can drink, you know? You can make yourself a cup of coffee. You can even cook yourself breakfast if it’s just crackers you eat in the morning,” he says.

Yes, you think to yourself. You’ve been wanting to try his coffee because of the fancy machine but breakfast sounds… too domestic.

“Thank you, but I’m okay. I mean, the snacks fill me up just fine.”

“It’s not proper breakfast, though,” he argues.

“With all due respect, sir, eating takes time away from all the things I have to do. I manage just fine.”

Expecting an annoyed expression from him because you did just imply that you do too much, you instead see the tiniest hint of guilt on his face, as if he actually feels bad that you’re unable to take care of yourself because of him.

“You’re not a servant, Ms. Cho. You’re not disallowed to do basic things just because of your job.”

“You have standards, Mr. Jeon,” you say, throwing his words back at him. You don’t expect to see his face fall a little, and you’re surprised that you seem to care. “I need to meet them, and I’m still familiarizing myself with how you want things done, and that takes time. I don’t mean to imply that you treat me like a servant because you don’t. I just… I want to be able to do things right and I’m still learning.”

The words hit Jungkook. He knows he’d been too critical during these first weeks, and that’s more because he’s unable to manage the initial attraction that he’s trying so hard to temper. He could’ve gone on correcting you constructively, with no need for harshness the way he did with Lucas when he started.

You’ve also been doing this for a few years. You’ve been working for the VP’s office longer than he has - you know the people and the processes more, yet you’re the one claiming you need to learn and do things right. Even he thinks his father, whom he never thought was the best at looking out for his people, wouldn’t be angry at those below him for irrational reasons. Somehow he thinks he’s worse than his old man now.

But the word sorry isn’t in his vocabulary. He’d rarely ever said it, and the only reason he’d heard it a lot growing up was because people caused his inconvenience, and not because they’d hurt his feelings. He doesn’t know what that’s like - forgiving and wanting to be forgiven. They’re foreign to him, but somehow those are what you’re making him want to know.

“I—”

“Can we move on, Mr. Jeon?” You interrupt him. “You have a scheduled check-in with your father before the 8:30 team meeting.”

“Right, that’s today,” Jungkook says, letting go of any form of apology he could muster.

He nods then stands up to head to his bathroom, and you follow shortly after to arrange his outfits for the week. You clean up in the kitchen after and wait for him to come out, with you reflexively walking up to him to fix his tie and make sure all the creases on his clothes are fixed.

Jungkook tries to remain still as you, like everyday, make sure he looks proper. It always took him a long time to get ready because he used to do all this on his own, but with you taking on the unofficial stylist role - which he admits you do a great job at - he’s relieved of that added stress of looking the part of a Vice President. It just also means that every morning, he has to look unaffected as you stand close to him like this, with you tightening his tie and your fingers grazing his clothed chest.

You smell like roses. It feels warm and nostalgic, like it’s familiar but also something new. It’s refreshing on you, and it wafts through his nose and paralyzes him a little. He tries to hold his breath like always, only briefly glancing at your focused eyes as you make sure he looks impeccable.

He’s caught off guard when you look up and meet his gaze. He doesn’t react, but he does linger and surprisingly, so do you. He wants to apologize but he doesn’t know how to. He just hopes you feel it somehow with how he looks at you; he’d like to think you do, as you gently bow and step back, taking your things to go down.

You go through his schedule while in the car, noting his dinner meetings and that the food tasting for next month’s event with the art industry professionals that you’re both organizing has been moved to next week, freeing up his Thursday lunch hour.

“I’ll schedule my visit at Taehyung’s tailor shop that day then,” Jungkook states. “I’ll have a few suits done.”

“Noted, Mr. Jeon,” you reply, adjusting his calendar.

He doesn’t say anything after. He takes his leather notebook and sketches like he often does, looking out his window only a few times as he’s engrossed in his drawings. Even with all that he is, you can’t deny Jungkook’s talent. You only know he took an architecture course but you don’t know if he actually practices it.

You start to wonder if Jungkook wanted that to be his profession but couldn’t pursue it because he’s expected to manage the company with his cousin. You wonder if he’d always been into drawing and the arts, if it was an outlet the way reading picture books was for you; you’d wanted to become an illustrator but your mother couldn’t afford drawing classes and that profession just didn’t seem like it could sustain you financially. You wonder what Jungkook thinks when he sketches and what his subjects are, if he feels at peace the way he looks, if he hopes he could just spend his days doing this.

The seeming warmth in your thoughts about this man concerns you, prompting you to turn away from his direction and stare out the window instead. You remind yourself that this is the same person who’d made the past two weeks miserable for you; he doesn’t deserve warmth from you in any form, even if, for the briefest moment earlier after you fixed his tie, that’s what you gave him. You learned that he’s quite mesmerizing when he doesn’t talk or when he isn’t scowling. You also learned you’re quite quick to fall into it when you let your guard down a little.

You groan internally. There’s a lot you don’t know about him and you don’t really care to know more; what you know is enough to put you off anyway. And so these moments of weakness - of curiosity, of concern - should not happen again.

Except, they do happen, over an hour later after Jungkook returns to his room from his check-in with his father. He sits on his chair, his eyes closed and jaws clenched, unmoving for a good few minutes, and you watch from your seat, wondering what transpired that’s got him this disturbed.

It happens again an hour later. He moved the team meeting to the afternoon and he’s now furiously typing on his desktop, making calls, sketching, making calls again, then sitting still with his eyes closed once more. Hoseok walks in, merely nodding at you, then enters the room and speaks with the younger man. Jungkook closes the blinds, and you’re left to wonder what’s going on behind closed doors and what’s got him angry and frustrated.

You take your chance at finding out when Hoseok emerges, asking him if everything’s okay, if Jungkook is okay.

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Hoseok says, a half smile on display, something you’re only a tad familiar with. “He’ll manage.”

He rushes out, saying he has a meeting to get to, and you nod, glancing at the closed door and blocked window, wondering what troubles Jungkook is handling on his own. If it’s personal, it’s clearly not your business. But if it’s work-related, then it is. You’re there to make things easier for him, after all. You also don’t want to be surprised and be bombarded by new tasks just in case, so it’s better to know if there’s something you can help in resolving things as well.

You walk in his room then place the ginger lemon tea on his desk, a common home remedy for hangovers, just in case last night’s events are still affecting him. You inform him that you’ve sent the reports already for his sign-off, and he responds that he’ll get to them tomorrow.

Glancing at his drink, he halts his typing to look at you.

“Do I look hungover to you?” He asks pointedly.

It’s clearly not what you meant, but you suppose the insinuation isn’t what he needs right now. You want to be swallowed by the ground. He was already calm towards you, civil even, and now there’s another reason for him to be upset at you. You wanted to avoid any possibility of that as much as possible, and now you’re here, at the verge of being told off again, just because your stupid brain decided to care the tiniest bit.

“I, uh, no, Mr. Jeon,” you stutter. “I just…”

You don’t have a reason. Clearly, you can’t tell him that he hasn’t seemed okay all morning - whatever that means - and that just in case it’s last night’s alcohol affecting him, there’s a cure. You stare back at him with worry, but instead of challenging or questioning you, he just sits back with his eyes closed again and dismisses you.

“You may leave,” he instructs.

“What about lunch, sir?” You ask.

You’d never cared before, why the change now?

“I’m fine,” he responds. “Call me when the meeting’s about to start.”

Your stubborn self takes the box of biscuits from the coffee table and places it in front of him. You’re pushing it, you think, but there’s a meeting he’ll be leading and he can’t be unfocused; when he is, it’s all the worse for you.

He doesn’t react and you walk out. When you enter an hour later to call him, you spot the empty cup and the crumbs on the saucer, and you can’t help the tiny smile that you make internally.

It’s short-lived though, as that whole afternoon, he acts unusually - he barely makes comments at updates, he doesn’t make eye contact, and doesn’t ask further questions. He just nods when you say you’re heading out at 6PM, giving you no added tasks to keep you from leaving.

You enter his penthouse the next morning to the banging of leather hitting leather, prompting you to jerk from the loud sounds. He’s grunting and panting heavily, and you just know that whatever it was that transpired yesterday, he’s releasing all his emotions right now, through this.

He exits the gym and walks to the counter where you are, finishing the water you laid for him in three gulps.

“Do you need that tended to?” You ask.

He looks surprised. You gesture towards his hands and he looks at his bruised knuckles; he really let it all out this morning, it seems.

“I’m fine,” he shrugs.

You didn’t think those two words from him would ever make you feel discouraged, but one thing you’ve come to learn about Jungkook is that he easily expresses his anger and frustration towards other people. It’s when he keeps things in that they seem more serious, and you wonder what words he heard yesterday that might have made him this closed off, this quiet, this much more distant.

But fortunately, your feeling of worry fades with each day that passes, as he slowly returns to his normal self after - the focus, the perpetually serious look, the attention to detail, the sketching on his notebook. Perhaps Jungkook just needed a particular kind of release and he’s maybe handling things better now.

For his sake and yours, you wish the issue has been resolved, otherwise another blow up might happen and that wouldn’t be good for your newfound dynamic that’s a lot more civil than anything.

It’s Thursday when you get a call at 5 in the morning, just as you’ve woken up to get ready for work, and Mr. Ri’s voice greets you on the other end.

“Hi, ___. How are you this morning?”

“Hi, Mr. Ri,” you yawn, curious as to why he’s checking up on you this early. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he hums. “I was instructed by Mr. Jeon to pick you up today.”

“Why would CEO Jeon ask that?” You wonder, as you sleepily walk to the bathroom to wash up.

“He didn’t. Jungkook did.”

You stop on your tracks. You don’t recall being informed about this, nor do you know of any particular reason why you should be at his place so soon.

“Oh, uhm, okay. I should be ready in–”

“I’ll be there in about 50 minutes,” Mr. Ri interjects. “Sleep in a bit more and have some breakfast. I’ll see you shortly.”

You try not to think about what prompted Jungkook to have you picked up, so you focus on getting ready and then whipping yourself some fried rice using the leftover seafood from last night. You won’t lie, it tastes delicious. It might be that you just haven’t had proper weekday breakfast in a while, but it could also be that you’re energized enough and not pressed for time that you’re able to make this as good as it is.

You decide to bring some to Jungkook’s place just in case you get there late. Sure, Mr. Ri will be driving you, but you don’t know how the traffic is at this time, and this change in schedule is somewhat making you anxious. But then again, there’s always bread or cereal for him to eat; you just think that a little act of thanks wouldn’t be so bad.

Mr. Ri arrives exactly 50 minutes later and he assures you that he’ll get you to the penthouse in half an hour. You trust him of course; he’s been with the Jeons for decades and he knows these streets like the back of his hand. Seated in the passenger seat, you try to figure out what about today has got your boss a little kinder than usual.

“I arrived five minutes late yesterday,” you wonder out loud. “Is that why? He has a meeting with a local artist in the morning and he doesn’t want me to be late. That should be it. Ugh, stupid,” you groan. “I should’ve taken the first bus I saw, but it was so full and–”

“___,” Mr. Ri stops you. “Five minutes isn’t much. Plus, you always arrive 10 minutes before 6:30 and then just wait at the lobby. I don’t know why you do, you could always just go up to the penthouse when you get there, you know?”

“No, I don’t. Mr. Jeon has boundaries and clearly likes keeping his distance. Going to his penthouse before I’m supposed to be there feels like I’m intruding,” you argue.

“You’re literally his assistant, and you go to his bedroom and his closet, fix his things, prepare his meals… there’s no intrusion happening,” Mr. Ri counters. “I know the man. He’ll probably just look at you curiously then go about his routine.”

“Well, since you know him so well, then why did he have me picked up this morning?”

There’s a brief silence before the man next to you responds.

“He did note that you were late for the first time, but that wasn’t his issue,” Mr. Ri says, appeasing you before you react negatively and think that your tardiness was a big deal. “He asked if I knew how you got to Hoseok’s place before and I said you would just take the bus; it was closer to your place so it was fine. They have someone to make his breakfast, too, so you didn’t need to come early; plus, you only went every Monday.”

“What a change, huh?” You attempt to poke fun at yourself and the new arrangement you’re in.

Not that you’re complaining; you know of other executive assistants who do much more for their bosses and what you have with Jungkook isn’t even that bad. But it is quite the shift compared to what you did for Hoseok. You’ve figured out your own routine, though. And the commute isn’t always terrible, for as long as you’re not one of the unlucky ones, given the recent incidents.

“It’s quite the change. I don’t think he realized that until yesterday. He also asked me if I know if you eat properly in the morning. Maybe he thinks you don’t?”

“I’ve skipped meals…” you trail. “And well, I told him that I just eat crackers on the bus. Maybe he thinks I’m losing focus some days.”

“Maybe he’s just concerned.”

You snort at the absurdity of the statement.

Mr. Ri sighs. He knows that Jungkook hasn’t been his best self since he arrived in Seoul, and especially towards you. He’s noticed the young man’s indifference, the occasional passive remark, the frustrated looks, and the tension every morning. He’s noticed your faraway eyes, too, your constant anxiety, and unusual lack of confidence in your usual tasks, given that you look to be second-guessing everything you do.

As someone who’s worked for the Jeons for so long and who’d watched Jungkook grow up, he’s used to the detachment, but it was always because the young man often lived in his own head. There are always lots of thoughts and ideas, and lots of feelings he keeps bottled in.

But he’s also seen Jungkook’s kindness that he doesn’t always show, the guilt and anger that restrain him from expressing his emotions, and the care that he seems to put a brake on when he shows too much of it to someone, and so it isn’t much of a surprise to him to him when the young man gave this specific instruction to pick you up, not just today but everyday moving forward.

“The news on the radio reported on the robberies and complaints of sexual harassment against female commuters last night,” Mr. Ri continues. “They attack at any hour now. I’m sure that’s why. He wants me to drive you home everyday, too.”

“Mr. Ri, that’s too much,” you protest. “That’s not part of my contract and it isn’t his responsibility.”

“Maybe, precisely why I think he’s concerned. It isn’t about making sure you’re not late to work or anything. He’s worried that something might happen to you. And I agree. It isn’t safe, ___.”

“It’s not safe for me anywhere. I just… it’s too much,” you sigh. “I don’t need this kind of service. I’m not entitled to it.”

“He’ll insist though. Will you argue with him over your own security? I mean, it’s either this or he’ll pay for your driving lessons and then request for a car for you to use.”

You sigh, knowing he has a point. You don’t think you deserve it but you also can’t deny that the concern makes you feel a certain kind of way for him; gratitude, for one, and something else you can’t exactly name.

“Okay,” you say softly.

“Good. It’s about time he makes it up to you,” he chuckles. “Boy’s been a brat these past weeks. I wanted to just knock some sense into him.”

“Hmm, not like I expected any less,” you huff. “He just looked grumpy or disinterested during the times I’ve seen him before. Unhappy people like that aren’t always the kindest. Has he always been that way?”

“I wouldn’t say he has. I mean, he just wasn’t joyful or expressive, not like his brother. Jungkook liked to keep to himself; Hoseok often tried to push him out of his comfort zone but the boy wouldn’t really budge. I think as he grew up, that just amplified. People who prefer being alone have their reasons, don’t they?”

They do. You know this just like anyone, perhaps as much as Jungkook. It’s comfortable being alone; there’s no one to hurt you and no one you could hurt. You wonder if his reason is the same, and if, like you, he feels the loneliness creep in every once in a while.

You nod in silence and the conversation doesn’t continue until you arrive at Jungkook’s building. You have five minutes to get to his unit and you get there in three. When you enter, you hear grunting from the gym, and it’s shortly after when he exits and drinks the glass of water on the counter.

“What’s that?” He gestures at the plastic container next to you.

“It’s fried rice. I made it this morning because I had time to eat breakfast at home,” you say, softly smiling and then bowing at him to show your gratitude. Whatever his reason is, the act was appreciated.

“And you’re gonna eat again?”

“I was actually–”

You stop midway. You actually meant to serve it to him in case you arrived late, which you realize is pretty ridiculous.

“Actually what?” He asks, leaning forward on the counter now, with his bare arms from his tank top blinding you a little.

“I didn’t know what time I was gonna get here so I thought as a last resort, I’ll bring this to heat up and serve to you but then I realized that that’s pretty stupid because it’s leftovers and definitely not high-quality ingredients and it’s… just silly. Plus, you don’t eat rice in the morning.”

With his scrunched brows, he asks, “is it good?”

“It’s pretty delicious,” you say. “I mean, I liked it. I don’t know how sophisticated your palate is… Mr. Jeon.”

You smack yourself internally for rambling.

“What’s that got to do with anything? If it’s good, then it’s good.”

“I’m an ordinary person, Mr. Jeon. I have normal people’s taste buds.”

“So that makes me, what? Abnormal?”

“No… I–” you unknowingly pout. You shouldn’t have brought this in the first place.

Jungkook is disarmed again at the sight of your pouty face. If this is your way of thanking him for this morning, he’ll take it. The fact that you’d brought something you cooked from your own place to feed to him is already enough to make him feel hazy, which is why he needs to get away from you right away.

“Just heat it up. I’ll have that. There’s not much food in here anyway,” he says, walking away, leaving you no room to resist.

You do as you’re told, not wanting to overthink and change anything. You do check the cupboard and see a stashed pantry, and you wonder if he’d wanted to find something to criticize about your cooking, too.

He walks in and lets you fix his tie again, and for some reason, you feel more nervous than you normally do today. You sit and busy yourself with responding to emails as he eats his breakfast, careful not to look at him while he does.

“It’s good, a little better than how I do mine,” he says, surprising you.

“You cook?” You ask too quickly.

“Of course,” he frowns, looking a little offended. “I lived on my own for years. How do you think I survived?”

“Hiring people to do it for you,” you shrug.

Peeking at him once again, you see that he’s almost finished with the dish, and you can’t help the little smile on your face at the thought that he might actually enjoy it. It’s just fried rice, but you let yourself feel the shallow happiness from this. He’s at least not berating you or anything.

He finishes his meal as you go through yesterday’s meetings. There’s not much about the Arts Center he says, just like yesterday and the day before, and you start to wonder if the issue with his father has anything to do with that.

You let it go, opting to just follow his pace and let him talk about it when he’s ready, if he ever will be.

The morning goes by smoothly. Jungkook meets with Yoongi in his office then reviews the reports you’d sent last Monday. He sends you an email, saying that they’ve been approved and for you to attach his signature for sign-off and dissemination, leaving you perplexed at the lack of any other comments again.

He goes for a quick lunch at the dining hall while you eat a sandwich at the pantry, and not long after, you’re back in the car to head to Jungkook’s appointment with his best friend.

Kim Taehyung’s tailor shop boasts of classic European design. It’s elegant in all the ways that he is, as he stands by the desk in his working space, a smaller room on the mezzanine floor with an exquisite couch and displays of his work. He’s donned in an orange suit that you think only he can pull off, while his brother, Seokjin, sits on a chair in an impeccable black 3-piece.

You know as much that Jungkook grew up with both men, but while the brothers are often a hot topic on the news because of their wealth, their successful businesses, and colorful dating lives, you now wonder how Jungkook managed to stay out of the spotlight despite being a lot of the things that they are.

You bow at them after Jungkook introduces you as his assistant, and you’re surprised when Seokjin reaches out his hand to shake yours, bowing as well and offering you a kind smile. Taehyung does the same, and you can’t help but feel the warmth on your cheeks. They’re clearly incredibly handsome men with amazing styles, just like your boss, but they’re obviously respectful and gentle, unlike him.

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Cho,” Taehyung smiles. “So, what events do I need to dress my best friend for?”

He looks warm, friendly, and you can’t help but mirror his smile as he offers you a seat and some tea. You take out your calendar and enumerate at least three big events in the next months, which would require standout designs. Jungkook also wants four additional everyday classic suits, and Taehyung starts sketching on his pad as you speak.

“Make one for my event, too,” Seokjin says. “I’m launching my traditional alcohol brand in Singapore in September. It’ll be a big thing so Jungkook needs a fancy piece for that as well.”

“That soon?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah, it got pushed early,” Seokjin replies.

Jungkook asks you to check his calendar for any activities in the Singapore office, and you state that there’s nothing scheduled during that time.

“There’s a landscape designer I want to meet while I’m there. Schedule one with her later,” Jungkook instructs you, and you make a note to coordinate with Lucas, who will continue to serve as the assigned assistant for the Vice President’s Southeast Asia trips.

Taehyung finishes the rough designs quickly, given that he’s already familiar with the style his client wants. He’s done a lot of Jungkook’s suits, which you know from all the weeks of preparing his clothes, and you do admit that he looks best in these custom-made pieces.

As Taehyung takes Jungkook’s measurements - given that, as per his words, Jungkook has gotten wider since the last time - he asks if you have something to wear for those big events, too.

“Uh, yes,” you say.

“Are they from company events from before?” Taehyung asks.

You nod shyly. It’s not like you’re paid enough to afford a new one every time nor can you wear them anywhere else; there aren’t exactly regular fancy dinners and social occasions you get invited to.

“Have new ones made, then,” Jungkook says, his back turned to you.

“Uh, there’s no need, Mr. Jeon. The gowns still look new and they’re well-made,” you insist.

“Store-bought?” Taehyung asks, his eyebrow cocked.

“Uh, yes, Mr. Kim.”

“Nothing beats custom-designed ones though. And I must say, I’m kinda good at them.”

“I, uh… it’s really not necessary,” you stutter, feeling a little too shy and definitely undeserving. It’s Kim Taehyung; his name is the brand.

“I believe it is,” Jungkook says now, turning to you. “They’re big events and we’re organizing one with the arts professionals. Some dignitaries will be coming, too, including the culture minister. I’d prefer if you looked the part of working for the Vice President, Ms. Cho. You represent me in that way.”

“I… uh, okay,” you sigh, knowing you don’t seem to be in a position to turn him down.

“Great. Start thinking of designs, then!” Taehyung beams.

It’s some minutes later when Jungkook’s measurements have been taken and Taehyung calls for you. You sit on the chair facing his desk not far away while Jungkook and Seokjin talk about sports and this new club that opened in Gangnam.

Seated in front of you, Taehyung takes his sketch pad and starts asking what design you want.

“Something simple and comfortable since I’ll be moving around,” you say softly. “And nothing form-fitting or revealing since, uh…”

“I understand,” Taehyung smiles, revealing a gentle side of him that the paparazzi and tabloids clearly don’t capture.

He starts drawing your silhouette, glancing at you then at Jungkook before speaking.

“So, he’s been in this role for a few weeks now. Has he been nice?”

“Define ‘nice,’” you respond, earning you a chuckle.

“I guess that’s my answer, then.”

“I don’t mean to say he isn’t,” you backtrack. “Mr. Jeon just has a different leadership style as Mr. Jung’s, that’s all.”

“I suppose that’s quite a difficult adjustment for you, huh?”

You purse your lips and Taehyung laughs, the soft way he does it is something new and refreshing to you. You didn’t realize how deprived you are of such gentleness, of such acts or sights as simple as a smile. Hoseok is no longer your source. Your team hasn’t been as jolly these past weeks. The only other person you talk to regularly at work is Yoongi, and while he’s definitely been smiling more, it’s a lot more teasing than it is comforting. You’ve been missing your best friends more because of that, you think - Soomin’s smile is blinding, Jimin’s is sweet and infectious. Perhaps it’s why you haven’t been smiling much yourself.

“I won’t tell, don’t worry,” Taehyung assures you. “I just wanted to check on him. This whole move has been tough but he doesn’t say much. I’m guessing he doesn’t tell you, either, but he’ll definitely show it.”

“He has, actually,” you say softly, knowing now that even with his closest friends, Jungkook tends to keep things to himself. “He’s pretty stressed most days, always working and stuff. He’s been a little hard on me but I guess that’s a natural reaction for some.”

“That’s not an excuse though.”

“It isn’t, but… it’s okay. I can handle it.”

It’s not as much of a lie anymore as it used to be. Jungkook hasn’t been overly critical about things as he was just last week. He rarely makes comments on your minutes now, doesn’t correct the reports you reviewed, doesn’t talk over you or doesn’t yell. There’s been a change, definitely, and you wonder what triggered it.

“He doesn’t really smile, does he?” You ask, your curiosity getting the better of you.

Taehyung’s laughter is one of disbelief and pure amusement, catching the attention of the other two men but he waves them off.

“He still does, just not as much,” he responds. “It kinda stopped after the breakup with Chaerin but I guess that’s what heartbreak does, right?”

“I… wouldn’t know. I’ve never experienced it,” you shrug.

“Lucky,” he hums. “I don’t wish it on anyone.”

You glance at Jungkook, briefly letting yourself imagine a version of him that’s a lot more carefree, relaxed, perhaps happy. Maybe it’s the loneliness and that you’d understand; that, you’ve experienced. It’s both liberating and isolating. You wonder if that’s how he’s been feeling all these years since then.

“I’m done,” Taehyung announces, showing you three designs that are exactly what you asked for.

“These look nice. And way out of my price range,” you laugh.

“Perks of having a rich boss,” he winks. “I don’t want you to worry about anything, okay? You’re my client and I want you to wear these with confidence. Now, if you’re okay with all this, I’ll get one of my female assistants to get your measurements.”

You nod in response. There’s absolutely nothing you would change about those designs. And if you’re being honest, you now can’t wait for those events just so you could wear them. Hoseok had obviously paid for the gowns you had to wear for the big events, but those were store-bought that A-yeong helped you choose. Some were your own purchases, but this is the first time that you’re getting measured for custom-made clothing designed by Kim Taehyung.

You walk towards the fitting room at the corner where one of his staff meets you. She’s meticulous, which is why it takes longer than usual just to get this done. With her silence, however, you’re able to hear the conversation happening outside, with the brothers now asking Jungkook about the same thing you’ve been wondering about.

“By the way, what was up with you last Monday?” Seokjin asks. “I thought that was gonna be night 4 of you going home with a new woman. But you passed out before you could even ask. And that was just 9PM.”

“Four nights isn’t much, though,” Taehyung laughs. “Didn’t he do that with seven women on seven straight nights when he was in Singapore? That was wild. Was it that stressful there? Or were there just so many to choose from?”

“Shut up. I’m not proud of that,” Jungkook groans. “And that was one time. It never happened again.”

“It never happened seven times straight again,” Seokjin corrects. “You were really living your life out there, huh? Stressful job, a rooftop bar in your apartment building, chauffeur and butler services 24/7, women from all over the world begging to sleep with you…”

“It’s called the post-break up stage,” Taehyung says.

“For six years?!” Seokjin asks incredulously. “It’s either you loved Chaerin that much, you blamed yourself too much, or you just really sucked at moving on.”

“I vote all of the above,” Taehyung states.

“Me, too,” Seokjin claims.

“Fuck you both,” Jungkook groans again.

“I think he also just missed us too much,” Seokjin adds. “Lucas was cleaning up your messes every time, not snapping you out of it. But we’re here now so I guess three straight nights is as far as you’ll go.”

“Two, if you stopped me last Sunday,” Jungkook points out. “You both always insisted that Sundays are a no-no. You were too busy with your own women.”

“May we remind you that you didn’t even make it to our table. You stepped foot in the bar then left five minutes later,” Taehyung says. “But really, what was it about Monday? You seemed angrier than usual.”

“Just… a bunch of things my father said,” Jungkook huffs.

“Did he tell you off again?”

“Not really, surprisingly. He just delivered a message basically, about what the board members were saying about me and my project. Bullshit stuff, you know? I just wanted to forget about it.”

“Did you?”

“Sorta,” Jungkook says. “I still don’t want to talk about it.”

“But it’s still happening, right?” Taehyung asks worriedly. “The Arts Center, I mean. You’ve been wanting to work on that since the building was abandoned five years ago.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook responds. “I guess. We already put money into it. I’ll just have to make concessions if my father doesn’t side with me on this. I hate to think he’s buying into what those old folks are saying.”

“Ms. Cho, we’re all done,” the staff member tells you, muffling the conversation outside that you couldn’t help but hear.

It felt quite intrusive, hearing how life was like for Jungkook in Singapore, but then again, his personal life seemed to be the topic in the office comfort rooms, and you don’t know how to feel about getting confirmation about those rumors. It felt sad more than anything though, living that kind of life away from friends and family. You wouldn’t know what moving on from a breakup feels like, but you suppose people grieve a lost love in their own ways; you can’t blame them for how they choose to repair the parts of them that broke.

But the bit about his conversation with his father is what bothers you. You’d hate to think that there’s a possibility that Jungkook’s plans won’t be fully realized, and whatever the reasons for that are, you hope they didn’t break his spirit too much. You know the plans now like the back of your hand and the more you learn, the more you believe in it. You hope Jungkook continues to believe in it, too.

You exit the fitting room, catching the end of a conversation where Seokjin suggests a wholesome weekend for the three men of just dinner and drinks. The two other men agree, and they all turn to you once you make your presence felt.

“All good?” Taehyung asks you.

“Yes,” you bow in thanks.

“Great. The gowns will be ready at the same time as Jungkook’s suits will be. I’ll just let you guys know, okay?

“Sure,” Jungkook says. “But anyway, we have to get back to work. Thanks again.”

The brothers bid you and Jungkook goodbye, and you head back to the office with not much words said. Jungkook seems less frustrated, but the worry you feel suddenly returns. It’s the thought that maybe he doesn’t feel supported, that maybe what he’s doing isn’t enough, and that more than that, it's him choosing to deal with all this on his own, not even looking to his friends to comfort him.

Jimin and Soomin meet you for lunch at a restaurant that Saturday afternoon. The drive from Busan took longer than expected, they said, but you say you don’t mind. They’re visiting you like they always do every month, regardless of how busy they are back in their hometown, which was your home for a few years, too.

You were in the same class; your mom worked at the school, which was the only reason why you were able to attend a prestigious one in the first place. Even when you moved back to Daegu, you remained in touch with them. Despite the distance, none of you wanted to just let the friendship fade, and even when they had to stay back and you made a life out here in Seoul, they made sure to visit you as much as they could.

They’re why you were excited for the weekend to come and now, you’ll be enjoying a hearty meal, getting your nails done after, lounging at your apartment, and then heading to a club for a night out, which you only do whenever they’re around.

“So, has the boss situation improved?” Soomin asks, her eyes soft and laced with worry “Or should I storm the jerk’s house and give him a piece of my mind?”

“It has,” you chuckle. “So no need to call him names or fight anyone. I’m okay.”

“Well, you did call him a grumpy old grinch with nice hair the other week,” Jimin points out. “So… did he get a haircut?”

“No,” you laugh again. “And that was in the heat of the moment. I… I mean, he’s still grumpy but he’s not… as grumpy or unbearable. He’s been—”

“Oh hun, please don’t say he’s been kind and then give him a pass for how he’s been to you,” Soomin reprimands. “Mean people don’t just become nice all of a sudden. And if they do, that’s a controlling tactic - they want you to think they’re capable of change so you’ll soften up to them and then give them a pass every time they do asshole-y things again.”

“You watch too many shows,” you frown, although knowing her statement isn’t wrong; it’s just not something you can relate with Jungkook.

Sure, he hasn’t been the nicest, but he also hasn’t been the meanest. He’s just been… him, you suppose - a bit in the middle; frustrated at worst, quiet at best, stoic on most days. He does seem to live in his head a lot, and while you won’t go so far as characterizing him as kind, he definitely hasn’t been insufferable these past few days.

“I’ve just dealt with too many assholes, ___,” Soomin corrects. “They’re all the same. Men are shit.”

“Except for Jimin,” you correct.

“Except for Jimin,” she concurs.

“I accept the honor,” he bows. “But seriously, ___. How has it been? You… you seemed really sad last week and I would’ve driven here then if we didn’t have that work emergency.”

“I’m okay, I mean it. I’ve experienced worse,” you try to assure them.

“You do know that having experienced something worse doesn’t mean it’s fine for you to experience something bad again, right?” Soomin points out.

“I know, but it also means that I know my threshold for bad behavior,” you say. “Jungkook was in a lot of stress and I did mess up. But I think he’s making up for that.”

“By apologizing, you mean?” Soomin cocks an eyebrow.

Your sigh tells her that’s definitely not what Jungkook has done.

“Well, he approves my minutes and reviewed reports much quicker,” you reason. “And he doesn’t comment as much. But actually, I think he just pities me. And that’s worse.”

“Why would he pity you?” She asks.

“I don’t know. Maybe because I said that a tree fell on our roof and that mom got injured the weekend before my mishap,” you explain. “And then he found out how early I start my day just so I can get to him on time. He’s made adjustments after those and I… I think he’s guilty or something. And he’s just not being his usual angry self around me to make it up to me.”

“So in short, he’s still kind of an asshole,” Soomin says, prompting Jimin to snort and you to pout. “He could always just apologize if he’s guilty and realized he should treat you better.”

“Some things aren’t easy for other people to say, you know?” You say softly.

“That’s not an excuse,” she points out.

“It’s an explanation,” you counter. “Or one of them, I guess. I don’t know him well enough, but it’s better to think that he’s a decent person who just struggles with emotions than someone who willingly makes people’s lives difficult. I mean, that’s easier to manage and accept.”

“If that helps you deal and he’s indeed improving, then maybe I won’t have to storm his place then,” she smiles, taking your hand and kissing it as she likes to do.

She knows your habit of pressing your nails onto your skin, and she always said she likes to remind you that you deserve gentleness, too; she’ll give it if you can’t give it to yourself.

The rest of the afternoon goes as you planned, with all the banter you’d expect from your best friends amid the pampering and then the chick flick in the background as you get ready in your tiny apartment.

You smile at your reflection in the mirror. The high-waist trousers and sleeveless top ensemble is a refreshing sight for you, as you only really dress up like this for a night out. You’re in your usual pencil skirts and blouses otherwise, and in jeans and tops or oversized jumpers on a normal day.

Soomin’s done your makeup and Jimin compliments you as he looks on, and soon enough, they’re ready as well to head out.

“Where’re we going?” You ask from the passenger seat as Jimin navigates the busy streets of Seoul on a Saturday night.

“Some new restaurant the guys discovered,” Soomin responds. “I think it’s not far from here.”

“Okay, good. Hajoon’s been texting, asking what time we’ll get there,” you tell them.

“Geez, you were already with him last night. Tell him to be patient,” Jimin rolls his eyes.

Soomin laughs from the backseat as she teases that he’s just being jealous, to which he points out that he just hasn’t seen you in a while so the man can wait. And you assure Jimin that you’d gladly skip a night with Hajoon to be with your best friends, no questions asked.

You get there eventually, and you immediately spot the group because of the laughter coming from their table. There are four men; the two women are Soomin’s friends, which is how you got involved with Hajoon in the first place. You met some time last year and you’ve been hanging out with him since then - among other things - and you’ve been enjoying it, given the simplicity and lack of drama when he’s not being moody. He’s a warm body who knows how to use it and you’re a good type of relief, as he’d said; there’s really not much more you need as you just try to survive through life and make something out of yourself in however way you can.

Hajoon waves at you from his seat, gesturing to his left to say he’s saved that spot for you. You head there after greeting your other friends, with Jimin and Soomin following you.

Right as you sit down and greet the man next to you, you’re caught by surprise when he kisses your cheek and snakes his arm around your waist.

“Hey, I missed you today,” Hajoon hums, smiling at you the way he did last night and this morning; it definitely wasn’t this sweet when he left for a work trip last month.

“I… saw you today,” you frown, earning you a chuckle.

“I know; I was still thinking about you, though,” he says.

You give a smile - as genuine as you can make it - and then turn towards your friends to your left who are trying to hold in their laughter.

You order a beer after he offers you a glass of wine, and then go for the pork belly when he says the salmon here is good.

“Just craving for meat, that’s all,” you tell him.

“Is there anything else you want? Just let me know, okay?”

You hum your yes and then turn back to your friends after Hajoon makes jokes with his.

“Since when was he this sweet to you?” Soomin whispers with wide, curious eyes.

“Since never,” you reply. “I mean, we’ve never been affectionate outside of bed…”

“Is anything else different?” Jimin wonders, careful not to bring attention to your conversation.

You look back at how things were before Hajoon left and how it was when he was away. Nothing seemed different. You hung out at his place before he flew out, then you messaged each other every now and then during the one month he was abroad. He was more interested to talk, but given the time difference and the pressure and stress you’ve been under the past weeks, you didn’t bother much, neither did he.

But you also think back to last night - how he picked you up from your apartment, which he’s never done before, and how he prepared a luxurious dinner. He made you breakfast this morning, too, whereas you both usually just sleep in in tangled limbs and then separate once you wake up.

“He cooked me fancy stuff but I just thought he wanted to show off what he learned during his cooking masterclass,” you shrug. “And well… he seemed sweeter than normal.”

“Maybe he hooked up with someone while he was away and he’s guilty about it,” Jimin suggests.

“He didn’t say anything about it and he knows I wouldn’t mind,” you say. “We’re not exclusive, even if I don’t hang out with other guys.”

“Maybe he’s over the fucking and wants to do the loving bit now,” Soomin offers. “I mean, he always seemed more into you than you were into him.”

“He’s hot and decent when he’s in a good mood; that’s all I need,” you admit.

“But honestly, that’s probably it,” Soomin continues. “I think he’s hinting that he wants to be more.”

“But I don’t want to,” you whine. “I’m not ready.”

“You’re 30! When are you ever gonna be ready?” Soomin whisper-yells.

“Never!” You pout now. “I mean… Not with him.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to tell him soon, then,” Jimin sighs. “Before it gets messy. And you hate messy.”

“What if men just don’t have feelings?” Soomin wonders out loud. “That way, you can’t hurt them.”

“So that way, they can hurt you?” Jimin points out. “No. I’m not letting any men hurt either one of you, okay? I love you both too much.”

“We know,” you and Soomin say at the same time.

“But I agree with Jimin, ___. You’re gonna have to let that man next to you, who’s thankfully deaf, go. And then just find another person who can give you what you need,” Soomin continues. “Like, uh…”

She looks around the semi-packed restaurant to find some random man to just point to, her eyes widening in awe as she spots a table close by with the type of men she was just thinking about.

“Like them.”

You laugh at her, not taking her seriously, but still, you look towards the direction of her cocked head, only to feel your throat dry up and your heartbeat speed up. Your eyes widen in reflex as they meet the piercing gaze of the man who’d given you a headache for weeks. He also happens to look unfairly handsome in his white top and slicked back hair.

“Shit, I would totally go for them,” Soomin adds, “and I only even like men a quarter of the time.”

Your best friends look at you as they wait for a response, only to see a nervous look on your face, as if you’re seeing a ghost or something, and the way you turn to them and stutter almost seems like you are.

From the other table, Jungkook pants quietly. You finally looked his way, and he didn’t know what to expect your reaction to be - maybe a bit of shock, but definitely not this worried. Granted, you’re out with your friends at a restaurant that he and his friends frequent. It’s not the type of place they’d normally go for - this is a lot simpler, less private, and more accommodating than the exclusive restaurants and hotels they go to for dinners before heading to a club. But Jungkook loves their pork belly; he orders it every week, and tonight, he was craving for this specifically before going to a private party of one of Taehyung’s clients.

Jungkook had seen you when you sat down, and he’d been taken aback when the guy to your right immediately kissed your cheek; it seems he’s barely let go of your waist since then, too. Perhaps the man is your boyfriend - and Jungkook doesn’t know what made him think you wouldn’t have one - but it also seems that the one to your left is into you, too, at least based on how he smiles at you sweetly but rolls his eyes at the affectionate guy to your other side.

But other than the embarrassing obvious affection that both of them are directing at you, what made him lose his senses is how you look, and you’re even more beautiful than he imagined. Your hair is styled, your makeup is bolder than usual, and he won’t even start with how you’re dressed. It’s a lot more skin than he’s used to - you’re out, after all, and if he’ll go by what your companions are wearing, he supposes this is your stop before heading to some club to party, too. Whereas when you’re at work, you have the skirt and long-sleeved blouse ensemble that you wear everyday - still pretty, perhaps just a lot more reserved than what he’s seeing now.

He can’t take his eyes off you, even as you entertain your suppose-boyfriend, even when you engage in hushed conversation with the man and woman to your left, and even when you stare back at him, the initial shock now wearing down to a look of curiosity. Perhaps you’re wondering why he keeps glancing at you, too.

“I told you he’s got it bad,” Taehyung laughs from the other side of the table.

He’s noticed how his friend hasn’t said much in the last 10 minutes, his gaze directed at the loud table close by. One glance and Taehyung knew why.

“Well, we told him,” Seokjin corrects. “He only ever acts out when he’s threatened and he’s apparently threatened by his pretty assistant.”

“I’m not acting out,” Jungkook scowls, finally breaking the staring contest with you.

“You’ve never been this much of a jerk,” Seokjin says. “So yes, you’re acting out.”

Jungkook ignores them, his eyes turning back to you, and finds you downing two shots of tequila consecutively, then using the beer as your chaser. His knuckles unconsciously clench when your suppose-boyfriend scoots closer, whispering something in your ear, his lips grazing your skin.

Jungkook exhales deeply, trying to get a grip of himself. He’s acting foolishly. You obviously have a life outside of work, and it obviously includes going out for dinner and drinks with friends, having a boyfriend, and enjoying your youth the way he is. There’s a world outside of the routine you’ve both created, of the silence you both share, and the time you spend together, unknowingly learning about each other without meaning to, without wanting to.

“___,” Soomin calls your name one more time.

“Huh?” You answer, finally tearing your eyes away from Jungkook, who’d unfortunately captured your attention after you noticed he was there.

You’ve been used to his impeccable looks in his fancy suits; you’ve even gotten used to his tank top and sweatpants post-workout outfits every morning, and while you’re still not immune to that look, his night out wear fit for a party leaves you more choked up than normal.

Maybe it’s the black jeans that you spot as he sits on the edge of the couch, or the white button-up top with the rolled sleeves up to his elbow, or his haircut that makes him look a little more mature. Maybe it’s all that and the way he’s gazing at you, the look in his eyes something you can’t quite read. Perhaps like you, he’s surprised to see you here the way you’re shocked that he’d chosen this place to eat; it’s not exactly a fancy restaurant you know he likes eating at.

But he’s here, and so are you, and suddenly you feel exposed, as if the world outside of work that you’ve kept to yourself is baring open to the man who stands at the center of what you do everyday. And you’re not sure how you feel about that.

“I was just saying… those men are pretty hot and they look interested, too,” Soomin wiggles her eyebrows. “ I mean, they keep looking here.”

“One of them is my boss,” you finally say. “Guy on the right. That’s… uh, that’s Jungkook.”

“Holy fuck, hun,” Soomin chokes on her drink. “Why did you leave out the part about your rude boss being a fucking god?”

“Does it matter?” Jimin scowls. “He’s still rude.”

“It’s different when the guy’s hot. It makes the anger more intense, you know?” Soomin says. “Attractive people elicit more passionate feelings sometimes.”

“Excuse me, that’s not why I was angry,” you pout. “He was really being unfair.”

“Well, he was. But I think my point also applies,” Soomin argues. “I’d just like to warn you that workplace hotties are a menace. Except for Yoongi - he was heaven sent. ”

“Ah, the man who could’ve been,” Jimin sighs. “We at least knew he wouldn’t hurt you. He didn’t seem like the type.”

“Yeah, this dude over here is hot but he’s mean. And that’s your type,” Soomin smirks.

“Can we… not talk about this while he’s there? And while this other dude is right next to me?” You glare at your friends, especially at Soomin whose insinuation wasn’t lost on you. “It’s so… weird.”

“Hey, we’re here for you, okay?” Jimin softens as he looks at you. “Just let us know if one of them makes you feel uncomfortable. We can always just stay at your place and watch horror movies until morning and you and Soomin can lose your voices from screaming and then I’ll lose my hearing because of it.”

His words make you laugh. There’s a tenderness in Jimin that you’ve never heard from anyone else before. Even when he’s telling you to stop yelling because you live for the thrill of a jumpscare, he says it so tenderly while laughing before pulling you both in his embrace.

“I’m okay. I’m just… I don’t know, probably just not used to seeing him somewhere that isn’t the office or his home,” you reason. “And I feel a bit exposed, I guess. This is my world and his is… right there.”

You wrap your arms around your body subconsciously, realizing only you’d done it when Jimin asks if you’re cold, offering his jacket then taking it back because Hajoon might smack him or something.

You turn it down, knowing you actually feel hot more than anything. You’re dressed up and definitely dressed in less, and somehow having Jungkook see you like this is oddly making you shy, perhaps a little too conscious.

“Just don’t mind him,” Soomin advises. “It’s a restaurant. You obviously have a social life and he can’t fault you for it, nor make you feel weird about it. Just focus on us, okay? Or on Hajoon, if that’ll happen.”

You follow her words and try to block out Jungkook. You do slightly nod at him, as well as at Taehyung and Seokjin just to acknowledge their presence, but you continue on with your meal, as the dishes arrive soon after.

The pork belly is a winner; you’ll probably come back here for that alone. You do manage to dodge Hajoon’s attempts at feeding you, and your other friends engage with the three of you at the other end of the table. It’s going well for the most part, until Hajoon starts to act a little wary, a little tense.

“Hey,” he says, leaning close to you. “The guy on the other table has been looking at you all night. It’s kinda annoying.”

You glance at Jungkook’s table and he looks away when you do. “Oh, just don’t mind him,” you wave Hajoon off. “Maybe I remind him of someone or something.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you feel him tense even more, as you look up and see that he’s staring down the man on the other side. Hajoon’s had a bit to drink, and you know he tends to be cocky and irrational when he is. You groan once he shakes his head, saying he’s gonna give “that stranger” a piece of his mind because “he can’t be looking at my girl like that.”

The initial annoyance you feel turns into panic once he stands from his seat and storms to the other table. You follow him, with your friends just looking in worry. His friends are more encouraging of what he wants to do though.

“What the fuck is your problem staring at my girl like that?” Hajoon mumbles, acting all tough when he’s never threatened nor confronted anyone like this, even when he’s drunk.

Jungkook seems taken aback. Perhaps it’s the aggression he didn’t expect, or maybe it’s finally having to acknowledge your presence in the restaurant, just in an unfortunate way.

“Your girl?” He scoffs.

The way the man is speaking to him is quite annoying, but he also knows your boyfriend is slightly drunk, so he dismisses him because Jungkook doesn’t need this drama tonight, especially not in front of you.

Hajoon hates the way this stranger is looking at him and not taking him seriously. He’d seen how he kept glancing at you, perhaps trying to get your attention away from him, and he’s really had enough. His words are slurring but this is the courage he needs to stand up for you. You’ve said before how unwanted attention makes you uncomfortable, and he’s gonna do something about it before the man gets to try anything with you.

“Yeah, my girl. You seem to have a problem with that, don’t you?” Hajoon grunts.

“My only problem is you making a scene right now,” Jungkook shakes his head. “You’re drunk and insecure and you’re embarrassing yourself in front of your girl.”

Not that you expected him to back off, but you didn’t actually think that Jungkook would further press Hajoon’s buttons. The man is drunk and insecure and indeed embarrassing, but getting told so is a blow to the ego, especially in your presence. And so you’re not surprised that this just makes him angrier, and since you’ve never dealt with this version of him before, you don’t know how to pacify him.

You didn’t actually think that Hajoon had a daring bone in his body despite being the way he is, but when he attempts to lunge at Jungkook, you’re left in disbelief. You’re quick enough to pull Hajoon back before he lands a fist on the other man’s face, but he’d been worked up enough that he hits the glass of wine on the table, knocking it over and causing the drink to spill on Jungkook’s thin white top.

“Mr. Jeon!” You shriek, pulling Hajoon back more forcefully before pushing him to the side so you can get ahead.

You take the napkin from the table and wipe Jungkook’s wet clothed torso, slowing down immediately as you realize what exactly it is you’re doing.

“I… uh,” you stutter, standing straight up and mirroring his questioning eyes.

It was a reflex for you, considering that you constantly make sure that he’s dressed impeccably.

“You know him?!” Hajoon asks in disbelief, tugging on your hand now so you’ll turn to him.

“He’s my boss, you idiot!” smacking him on the chest as you glare at him. “And you just put my job in jeopardy and for what?”

“Well, what can he do?” Hajoon challenges. “Get you fired because of me? Does he own the company and shit?”

“My father does,” Jungkook responds. “And I’m the Vice President.”

Hajoon just rolls his eyes but you aren’t amused. You glance at your table and gesture for one of his friends to take him, so one of them does. He stands up and pulls Hajoon away before he can do or say anything else.

“I’m so, so sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you say, your head bowed down as you apologize. “I…”

The mess on his outfit is too much; the red has stained the white top and you know he feels sticky. He looks like he has somewhere to go after this and that makes it worse.

“I– I can call Mr. Ri to get the car in here. I can get extra clothes from your travel bag,” you say, knowing that Jungkook always has a bag filled with clothes for emergency flights or check-ins.

You get your phone and make a call, telling Jungkook that his chauffeur will be here soon. You glance towards your friends who are still pacifying a drunk Hajoon, and you decide that they can handle all that. Right now, your priority is Jungkook.

You walk out towards the car that’s on hazard mode outside the restaurant and pick out the top that’s most appropriate for a night out, which happens to be a semi-loose black button-up. You head back inside, with Taehyung and Seokjin informing you that Jungkook has gone to the washroom, so you scurry towards there and knock at the door.

“Mr. Jeon, I have your black long sleeves here,” you say as your knuckles tap on the wood. “Just tell me–”

You’re interrupted by the sudden opening of the door, the sight of Jungkook in his jeans hanging by his waist and his unbuttoned white top catching you by surprise. His hair’s a bit damp and so is his bare torso, as you see that he’s tried to clean the wine off his body.

You catch yourself looking longer than you should, and you immediately look away as you hand him over what he needs.

“Please let me know what else you need, sir,” you say, your eyes glued to the pretty wallpaper as you awkwardly stand outside the washroom.

“Jungkook,” he says, earning him a curious look. “I mean, you don’t need to be formal. We’re not at work.”

You nod, realizing it does sound weird to address him as such in a casual setting.

“Okay… Jungkook,” you mumble, but even the way it rolls off your tongue is a bit odd. You’re not used to it, and you hope you won’t ever be.

He closes the door and you take this time to calm yourself down. You’ve been so worried since you saw the glass tip over and mess up his outfit, and given his hot-headedness, you’re a little surprised that he didn’t fight back. He does have a reputation to uphold but even then, stopping himself from punching Hajoon must’ve taken a lot.

The door opens and you sigh in relief; his outfit still looks good and he’s fully clothed, so there’s no lingering looks this time anymore. You take the top that he gives you, and you take the chance to apologize.

“I’m so sorry,” you start. “I don’t know why he— I mean, he’s a bit drunk and he’s not usually like this.”

“You’re not the one who should apologize so don’t,” he responds.

“Well, he won’t apologize so I will.”

“You didn’t spill the drink and you didn’t come at me. That was him,” he counters.

You just shrug, choosing to just concede. “I’ll just return this to Mr. Ri.”

He calls your name before you turn around to leave.

“I didn’t mean to cause a rift between you and your boyfriend,” he says, much too low and too gentle than you’re used to. “I hope I didn’t ruin anything.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you answer softly. “We just, uh, we just hang out.”

You don’t know why you feel the need to correct this misinformation. Maybe you just want to remind yourself because you’re not anyone’s anything; hearing Hajoon claim you as yours made you want to just create that distance even more.

Jungkook wants to push it, to ask more. The man clearly acts like he’s your lover, given the physical affection and the way he tried to stand up for you. But there’s a bit of shame as you state that you and the man “just hang out,” and there’s that wonder he feels - how can you be with someone without being with them, and if turning away people who are clearly into you is a tendency you have. There’s Min Yoongi, after all, who’d liked you enough to remain as your friend when you needed one despite how he felt.

“Okay then,” Jungkook nods. “And your job’s not in jeopardy. Don’t take responsibility for a stupid act you didn’t do.”

You bow in thanks, not much used to this side of him that’s understanding and even calm. You suppose he’d seen you worry about your job, had seen you look embarrassed over something that you didn’t even do, and perhaps he saw the discomfort over how Hajoon was talking about you.

You’re about to walk out of the hallway when his call of your name stops you again, prompting you to turn around.

“About earlier… did I… did I make you feel uncomfortable?” He asks, the worry in his voice surprising you.

You debate over playing it down or telling the truth, but you go with the latter.

“A… a little,” you admit, looking away.

You hear him sigh, and there’s a look of guilt in his eyes as you turn to him.

“I’m so—”

The footsteps of another diner in the hallway disrupts him, and you both make way so he can use the washroom, too. Perhaps you and Jungkook had taken so long, and you don’t want others to conspire about what’s happening, so you walk out and tell him again that you’ll just return his clothing to Mr. Ri.

From your table, Soomin and Jimin watch the awkwardness of your parting of ways, with you scurrying out the door and Jungkook returning to his seat with a deep sigh before glaring at Hajoon.

“He does sound and look like an asshole, aside from being hot,” Soomin observes. “That’s totally ___’s type.”

“Are you saying she likes her boss?” Jimin asks incredulously.

“I’m just saying that’s her type, not that she likes him,” Soomin corrects. “There’s a difference. I still hate him for making things hard for her. I wish he would stop treating her like that. You and I know she won’t quit anytime soon. Especially because he’s a Jeon.”

“I know,” Jimin sighs. “I wish we could protect her from all this, too. But she’s always done what she wanted to do. And we wait for her to tell us when things are hard; we just hold her hand whenever it is.”

“That’s all we can do, I guess,” Soomin responds. “Sometimes though I wish she’d just… let someone else do more than just hold her hand, you know? It could’ve been Yoongi, or even Hajoon before all this mess. It could’ve been you.”

“You know that’ll never happen,” Jimin laughs bitterly, with Soomin knowing exactly what he means. “You’re only ever just her friend or her lover; you can’t be both.”

Soomin hums in agreement, as she’d seen you draw the line with the men you’d come across with. You’d make it clear if friendship is all you want; you’d be straightforward if it’s just sex you’re seeking. You give either just your heart or your body and you’re always careful not to give both. There are parts of you that you don’t want to share, that you don’t want to expose to them; there’s a kind of hurt that you don’t want to experience.

They watch you walk back inside and then head to their table, where you sit next to a buzzed Hajoon who still has half a mind to look at you guiltily.

“I think I’ll head back home after this,” you tell the group. “Kinda not in a partying mood anymore.”

Your other friends apologize on Hajoon’s behalf, proceeding to ask you if that was really your boss and if he’d threatened your job because of it, remarking that it would be such an asshole move of him to do that or to even get mad at you for something you didn’t do.

You come to Jungkook’s defense; he didn’t say anything to that effect at all. Perhaps you’d been the unfair one who assumed that he would - that he’d demand that you apologize, that he’d use this against you.

“He’s… not like that,” you say, meaning it. You turn to your best friends who have disagreeing looks. “He… he tried to apologize for making me feel uncomfortable,” you say softly. “No one’s ever done that before.”

“Look, ___,” Hajoon starts, but you cut him off.

“I don’t really wanna talk about it,” you sigh. “I’ll just pay my bill and head out.”

You, Soomin, and Jimin all pay accordingly and then leave the restaurant, with you turning to Jungkook and his friends, bowing as a form of goodbye.

“Hey, why don’t we buy desserts at a convenience store and have our own party at your place?” Jimin suggests as you all settle in his car.

“That would be nice,” you hum. “This outfit wouldn’t be such a waste then.”

So that’s what you do, as your best friends treat you to all the snacks you love - a usual occurrence, really, as they used to do that back in Busan to cheer you up during the days when you were feeling sad. It’s one of the things that you allow them to spoil you with and they take advantage of that, as you go home with weeks’ worth of goods for you to enjoy.

You also picked up some drinks on the way, so you play some music and dance around with your wine glasses and take shots in between. It’s too early to be drunk but 11PM might as well be 3AM. You’re all seated snugly in your tiny couch as you watch some variety show on mute, laughing at the hosts' antics even if you can’t hear anything.

“Tonight wasn’t so bad,” you huff, leaning on Soomin’s shoulder as you doze off. “Both of you are all I need. Thank you for never disappointing me.”

They know you don’t always let yourself be this sentimental. They also know that when you do, all you want is for them to listen and to hold you. And that’s what they do, as you eventually clean up and fall asleep on the mattress with them, the events from earlier slowly fading away.

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#jungkook fic #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x oc #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #boss jungkook #jungkook series #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut

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jaspvids · 1 month

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The Diagnosis Of David

Disclaimer: I am by no means a mental health professional. This is just a meta-analysis.

What do we think of when we think of David?

His values of kindness. Optimism. Hope. Conviction. Passion. His drive to do his best every single day. The way he always makes an effort to reach out to others.

But also:

Attachment issues. People pleaser. Rose-colored glasses wearer. And at times, though the fandom doesn’t want to acknowledge it — Selfish. Unstable. Rude. Hypocritical. Kind of a dick.

See this video I made;

He’s complex, so let’s try to unpack him, and figure out what he’s got going on under that floof.

On David’s Childhood

David has been through a number of traumatic events in his childhood, most notably:

Witnessing Jasper fall to his near-death.

Finding Jasper, and being almost mauled by bears during the escape.

Clown school was apparently very bad, given the flashback-like reaction he had when it was mentioned. I’m unsure of his age when this occurred, however.

The fight with Jasper at the cave before they parted ways.

Losing Jasper. He says Cameron told him he was picked up by his parents, but I’m not convinced it’s not just his mind trying to erase painful memories.

As far as what we don’t necessarily see in the show, but can infer, David’s father was either not present or not great. He dreamt Cameron was his real father, as seen below.

And we all know Cameron is an awful father figure to begin with.

Yet, that’s better to David, apparently, than whatever he had at home. Which implies it was likely a pretty bad situation.

This can also be backed up by his attachment to the camp — growing up (and even now) it seems to be more of a home to him than his actual home.

That’s a home that hasn’t ever been mentioned, by the way. Contrary to Gwen, we know absolutely nothing about his family. He hasn’t talked about them once, if I recall correctly.

David is often open with emotions, if not wearing his heart on his sleeve. So why would he never mention his family and home?

We know why.

Even as an adult, he has retained this attachment to Cameron (who has in turn, continued to use this attachment to his benefit). He gets very excited about helping Cameron change in “keep the change” — because he needs to believe people who hurt him can get better. Otherwise, it’s too painful to bear.

The Loss Of Jasper

Part of his childhood, but significant enough to warrant its own section.

Jasper and David had a very interesting relationship. We’ve seen in the past that David was pessimistic, foulmouthed, and hot-tempered, directly compared to an optimistic, peppy, popular Jasper.

But then Jasper saw Cameron’s real self, and David received a modicum of praise for what was likely the first time based on his reaction. And so, they basically did somewhat of a switcheroo.

(David takes on many traits of Jasper after this experience, showing that he does admire him at the end of the day. I believe these traits are the foundation of David’s many masks.)

Despite the whole shebang, further episodes show us that they form a strong bond (or maintain one, we don’t know what happened before the first Jasper and David episode.)

What makes this friendship especially crucial in David’s development is that I believe Jasper was the first person to truly stand up for David.

David is, as we have seen, easily manipulated. Jasper picks up on this, and knowing Cameron’s just trying to use his best friend, tries to take Cameron down.

Jasper essentially died trying to protect David.

If Jasper hadn’t died, I don’t think David would have ended up as gullible and dependent as he is. If he had the more rational and realistic Jasper by his side during the rest of his developmental years, I believe things would have ended up much, much differently.

With Jasper’s death, there seems to be nobody else at camp who knows of Cameron’s crimes, or possibly, doesn’t want to speak out about them. Nobody to stand up for him. Nobody to redirect him.

So there’s nobody to stop the unhealthy-attachment-train from picking up speed.

Cameron And David’s Relationship

Cameron is manipulative and abusive towards David. This even becomes physical:

Despite this, David continues to idolize him as is seen in many cases of abuse. He works his ass off maintaining Cameron’s camp. Cameron’s approval makes or breaks him, because this is the man he sees as a father, unfortunately.

In addition, David is unable to let go of the hope that Cameron can change, because he’s convinced himself that deep down Cameron is still “good”, based on his skewed perception of him. And we all know how that ended.

But as Diane from Bojack Horseman once said —

And that is David’s problem — he wants so much for there to be a “deep down”, that there will be a day where Cameron showers him with praise and throws signed adoption forms at him, etcetera.

He judges Cameron not on who he actually is, but who he wants him to be. And so, the unhealthy attachment remains.

(Which is, of course, incredibly destructive to his mental health.)

Other Things We Know About His Mental Health, From Canon

We know he takes meds.

We know he has (sometimes dissociative) panic attacks.

We know he has been seen to suddenly snap, even to the point of violence.

My Final Conclusion: C-PTSD

(As the trauma has been not just one event, but many over the course of his life, and among other reasons, I believe CPTSD fits better than PTSD.)

David meets much of the criteria, most notably:

Lack of emotional regulation

Dissociation

Flashbacks

Anxiety

Guilt and shame

Distorted perception of abuser

Relationship difficulties

Okay this was long I’m tired good night.

#camp camp #camp camp david #cc david

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salaciousdoll · 7 months

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꒷︶ ̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿ The Salacious Exploits ‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ︶꒷

•┈୨Chapter I୧┈•

•┈୨please be advised to the warning before continuing୧┈•: first part is memory from childhood and high school, second is college au, hyper-feminine!reader, Bimbo/ditzy reader, chubby and black reader in mind, Fem reader, angst, sexual things implied, Strict Levi for a reason, strict Nanami, reader gets into a lot on her first day, false reality of boarding school on purpose, Private College au!, DARK CONTENT, Reader daddy issues is high in this chapter, reader hates her father and some parts of her mother, divorced parents, people around reader doing drugs to ease their pain/ ed in your past, self indulgent, the professors are pervs and so is the reader, taboo, professor Choso getting head but not from a student unlike the mention of Gojo getting head from a student, reader walking in on him, can you all guess who’s your first class teacher is( hint is the next chapter), reader is hyper sexual, masturbation mentioned, Art professor!Choso, Statistics professor!Nanami, Sociology professor!Levi, Maki and Mikasa are friends because I said so, sasha, todo, and Connie are friends( Jean too), Eren is sneaky/ smooth, let me know what I miss. Wc: 7k

ﾟ•┈୨ Song for this Chapter୧┈•ﾟ｡: Boarding School- Lana Del Rey

ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•ﾟNote from salaciousdoll: I hope you all have fun reading this and just know this is the beginning and it’s only going to get more worst and better at the same time.

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Four years ago, you were in boarding school, the worst boarding school but the richest one in your city. You were with nothing but snotty kids who lived off their friends' applauses and family’s money inheritance. It was fun but traumatizing. You hated your dad for sending you there all because you did, in his words, the unforgivable. It was nothing except just breaking into the Base stadium where concerts, big football and baseball games were held for your city teams. Teams that weren’t that good in your opinion, but you don’t know shit about sports to give an opinion about it.

Boarding school was an experience no teenager should experience unless they can’t function at a public high school or just plain crazy. You hated how you couldn’t wear anything you wanted, hated the ugly and stupid uniform— wanting to puke every time you saw the bad blue-green combo plaid skirt, which was long and that definitely wasn't to your taste. You hated the kids turning their nose and mouths up at you whenever you passed by all because you were rich with a different skin complexion than they had, a combo they acted like is out of this world. You missed your friends, the fun life you had, and the parties they used to throw— now you can’t do any of that. Bummer!

This school was filled with girls who slept with each other boyfriends, boys who prey on their next victim for who knows what, and finally the teachers having affairs with other teachers. Fucking horrible. If you said last year that the dad who loved you before the age of 5 would send you to a school like this— you would laugh. Laugh real hard because you’ll wonder where the hate comes from. Your dad loved you when you were the ages before 5. Then at 17? Now in your 20s? Not so much.

You could guess it started when he started seeing other women in the open relationship your parents decided to have. Ever since that agreement he has acted as if you don’t exist, only gives you money and when he does, it’s through your mother. If you needed cash, she’d hand it to you from his hands. If you need his black card money then he’ll send the money to her card, Cash App, Zelle, PayPal, etc.

The day you saw your father give his love that was supposed to be for you to another woman’s daughter everything cracked around you like the world was made of glass. Everything was made of glass around you and on that day, the glass burst and cracked around you with a domino effect to it— starting with your glass heart. You were 17 seeing your father smile and laugh with another teenage girl. A girl who had different everything to you, you pieced together that this was his ideal daughter. The daughter he always wanted, the graceful daughter, goody two-shoes daughter, the daughter who just looks so much more professional and classy than you. Feeling a warm pool build up in your eyes was enough for you to hate him and her, hell the entire family.

You thought that going over to him and saying his assigned name since your birth would make him realize that he’s done you wrong. Oh how wrong you were, the feeling of betrayal and hurt was around you four as you stared your father in the eyes with a vicious glare— matching his energy. It almost looks like he wanted to kill you because of you calling his name like that. He was with the family he always wanted and yet here you were. A disgrace to his reputation. Madness was lurking over his shoulder as you kept calling him “ dad”. After the tenth “ dad” he snapped— yanking your arm to drag you away. After finally getting away from their ear shot he angrily stated the words of “ What did I do to you and your mother to deserve unhappiness.” He gripped your arm even more harshly through rough, hot tears. “ You two make me sick. She makes me sick.”

Your father dropped your arm like he was touching a garbage truck full of garbage. He looked you in your beady tear-filled eyes. “ You.” The pause after that was long and flowing through the summer breeze. You wanted it to stay long because the next words that utter out of his mouth broke you mentally and emotionally. “ You make me sick. Hate how I’ve grown to hate my own daughter, my only daughter but you caused this. Your mother caused this. I’m not happy.” The repetition of the last sentence through his broken voice was enough for you to walk away from the crying man-child of a father you once knew. You remember walking past the same teenager with her mother laughing and smiling as they showed each other videos on their phones. Shit! the longer you look the more you see what he’s talking about. Because they’re happy and healthy, they make him feel happy and healthy as well.

That moment was the moment you started to get into more trouble. Throwing parties on boarding school campuses, watching the girls and boys do drugs with a spoon and lighter to stop their food cravings knowing full and well their anger for themselves were going to eventually come back on you since they didn’t want to be “huge like you”, watching student and teachers do coke lines to past by time of torture, watching the senior boys chase after the younger classes, you were included multiple times— turned down every last one of them with a quickness. You wanted your teacher. Too bad he left before you tried to seduce him. Afterwards, You started watching the teachers fuck in the spots they never knew you knew of— enjoying it a little too much as your hand traveled south as you watched. You wanted attention to thrive off, so you made a value to yourself on becoming the popular girl of your city boarding school. Man did you have the time of your life there— in misery and gold.

You thought that going to a 4- year public university was great for you. It was, for the first two years. You were glad that you could start over there because nobody knew of the boarding school you mentioned when they asked about your old life. A clean slate was good for you especially in a college as big as this one. The classes were more big and diverse than any school you went to. You were so glad that you picked this Marley tech university because you got more friends with different ethnic backgrounds and the same ethnic backgrounds as you. You didn’t stick out like a pretty pink thumb, you fit more in where you were. Taking classes with all of your friends and getting into the fashion designing major you promised yourself to take when you were in high school was everything you wanted.

It was suddenly swept away from you like a tablecloth with dishes stacked on top of it accompanied by the angry couple arguing about who’s in the wrong. Your mother was to blame. She wanted you close to her because you're the last person she had as family since your dad divorced her and completely cut her off for the same woman you saw with the girl that brought your father happiness. After he did that, you cut off anything concerning him— using your mother’s money and sugar daddies you met online or out with friends to get you by in school. You hated working for yourself because doing anything that chipped your nails was annoying and honestly jobs are overrated, you wished that the world was free.

You didn’t even know how your father was living and honestly you hoped he perished alone and alone only. He hurt you but hurt your mother even worse. She now had stress building up and the fear of abandonment is heightened more than ever so that’s why you had no choice but to agree with her sending you to the Private college near her so she feels more comfortable. No worrying, no stress but what about your happiness? Are you ever going to get that? Happiness shouldn’t be hard to achieve and sadness shouldn’t be easy to achieve either.

You thought back to your childhood and recent decisions— soon feeling your eyes get glossy. You hurried and fanned yourself to stop the tears running down your face in your pink hello kitty mirror you held in your hands. Muttering to yourself as you close your hand mirror with a snap, “ Can’t afford to look like a Billie Elilish single on my first day at this rich ass private school.” Your driver gave you a nod in the mirror when you locked eyes with him, “ You look amazing, little l/n. Have an amazing first day back and at a new school. Do you want me to pick you up or bring your car to park it in the parking lot, ready for you after classes?” You were so glad for Timothy, your father's maid/ business partner. He always looked after you like your father should have. You were forever grateful for this kind man.

You rubbed your glossy lips together, releasing them with a satisfying pop, “ Just bring my car, Tim. I will try to have a good day today and tell my mother to take an ibuprofen for her headache. She was worrying too much about my first day of school and boom, a headache.”

Tim smiled at you and nodded his head to your task you assigned him to do. He watched you get out of the car and stare at the school in front of you. The school wasn’t big, it just looked old money looking. What a bummer! As you walked past the entrance gate with your light-pink Medusa Versace heels and pretty white leg warmers covering the top straps of your heels. Your outfit was fall ready just in pink. The more you walked in, the more you wanted to turn back to your freedom, your happiness, your peace, meaning wanting to go back to your other college. This was even worse than boarding and public school because nobody dressed like you. They all were dark and neutral colors like ewww, “ don’t they have a sense of fashion anywhere here?” You hadn’t realized you muttered that out loud until you heard a gasp next to you.

Locking eyes with brown eyes startled you as you dropped some of your books on the ground. The person laughed and held up a hand to stop you from picking up your books, “ I got it, didn’t know you were clumsy.” When he got up you just now noticed his pink hair sprouting out on top of his head, “ I’m Yuji itad-”. A voice interrupted his introduction, a bone crushing interruption really, you came to that conclusion from the side hug the white haired man gave him , “ Itadori, you know you’re not supposed to be on this side of the campus.” His deep voice has a sing-song tone to it as he stared at the side of the boy’s face with black shades on his head and a pencil behind his ear. “ I should write you up, but I don’t feel like following the rules just now, keep this between us. I, also, know Fushiguro is here to get the house keys from his lousy father, so it’s best you go now. Feeling generous enough to let you go. I’ll even pretend you weren’t here and let you leave in 10..9..8”

Once he stopped counting you realized that this must be a rule at this college for underclassmen to not be on the same campus as the upperclassmen and you also realized that the boy named Itadori didn’t let him get to 7 before speeding off to walk to a spiky dark-haired boy who was walking ahead ignoring the two conversation just a minute ago. You were about to walk until he spoke again, “ You must be the new student, { reader}, what a beau- beautiful view here at this school. You would enjoy the views from classrooms. My name is professor Gojo, it’s gonna be an interesting year for you so hope you make the best of it… I’ll take you to the head of the school’s office to let you get situated. You should’ve enrolled in your classes over this summer, so all you need to do is to get your books you need and all that other school stuff you kids need now- a- days.”

You tilted your head at what he was trying to say in his first sentence and raised an eyebrow at his explanation and from what you see and hear as a first impression— he seems laid back, the laid back teacher or coach you always fall head first for so you’re gonna stay away from him and pray you don’t have a class with him.

The entire walk to the principal office was annoying and nerve wrecking. Nerve wracking because he was so tall, handsome, and down to earth. Granted you weren’t short but damn he had to be about 6’6 or something. Then he’s talking to all the students and teachers you both passed by, the same students and teachers watched you two walk past with curious eyes wondering who’s the new girl with their favorite coach. The key reason they knew you were new is because this is a private school where everyone knew everyone’s face even the teachers knew who everyone was by name and face. They had two campuses though, one for underclassmen and one for the upperclassmen, that’s all you paid attention to as you now stood in front of a black wooden door with a big glass to let you see inside of the organized office.

You were genuinely confused that they even had a head office at this school because that’s not normal in public colleges, you barely even saw the head of the school, so this is another thing that’s different. Coach Gojo knocked on the door before placing his large veined hand on the door from behind your frame since he was standing behind you, you didn’t realize he was this close since you were inside of La La land in your head, so in response, goosebumps formed on your skin and you tried to be subliminal with your shiver, but he noticed and almost wanted to let out a low chuckle. The head of the school answered the door with a low, “ Satoru, what now? A kid walked out of your lesson again because of the jo-” he stopped his sentence once he saw your pretty eyes staring at him in curiosity of what he was about to say. There was a story behind your eyes and he could tell off first glance in them.

He then looked back at Gojo, who was now wearing a smug smirk on his face because he knew Yaga was captured by your unique aura. He was going to figure you out in a week like he always does his student. On the other hand, Gojo was now standing on the side of you— his eyes didn’t mean to travel down, but the pink off-shoulder knitted cardigan was outlining your chest perfectly and your thighs were perfect with that skirt you had on. He cleared his throat with a hand swiping over his face because he shouldn’t be looking at another student like that when he already had one in his coaching office, just previously giving him head before she had to go to his psychology class. This college was great for academics but fucked up for morals, you’ll soon find out.

“ Yes please wait here and I’ll give you the things you need while I show you around the school. I got it from here Satoru.”, Yaga says, still not taking his eyes off you but you didn’t know it. He had on dark ass sunglasses so who would see how much he’s staring at you.

Gojo clicked his tongue and held up his finger, “ You can’t because Yeager is on his way to give her the school tour after their first class together.” Yaga wanted to strangle him from his facial expression alone because he truly wanted to know why he was so smug right now. Yaga nodded before allowing you to pass through by stepping aside, “ Come in and I’ll speak with you about the rules and such before he gets here.” You were definitely in for a long time here because the rules were long and boring. This was not at all like a public university because you could do anything just don’t let the RA catch you. Here at Kaizen Maria, you could be caught with a snap of a finger because it’s a small school and not too many people disobey the rules oddly enough. You tried to follow along after he mentioned no parties on campus, but it’s like once you heard that you zoned out because what the hell can you do now.

The Head of the school cleared his throat, “ Repeat the last thi-” you were so glad he was interrupted by a loud knock. He answered it with a come in and a tall brunette with long brown hair in the middle part and emerald-jade eyes walked in. The muscles in his arms stuck out to you so much because all he did was reach to close the door behind himself. He had a lean body and boy was he eye candy but not what you needed, just what you wanted. “ Sir. I was sent here by Mr. Ackerman to guide her to his class.”

Yaga sighed and motioned to you sitting there with your arms holding onto your pink notebooks and binder tightly with one pink led pencil and pen with pink furry ball in your hand, “ We’re all down here so if you will kindly get her to his class on time, she already missed her first class by being here with me.” Eren eyed you with something you could not place or far too dumb to place.

He held out his hand and you thought it was for your hand, so you latched your hand on top of his. He chuckled prior to shaking his head no, “ Your books, let me carry them for you while I guide you through the school on the way to class.” You let out a small laugh whilst handing him your books, “ I apologize then. Lead the way—”

He could tell you were trying to figure out what his name was from the way your eyes squinted, “ Eren. Just call me Eren.” You nodded as you two ventured out the building, walking to the building across from it. Sociology in the morning should be a sin, yet you’ll digress.

You two walked in silence until he spoke up, “ how do you like it here so far and you are really beautiful and your outfit is very cute but you’re a bit overdressed.” He ended his sentence with a light chuckle. You smiled at him, “ Didn’t even know everyone dressed so damn boring but thank you, Eren.” As you two continued to walk, you looked around to see bulletin boards filled with tryouts for sports or clubs. Looked around to see some students still walking to class. Not noticing how wide Eren eyes got after writing something with your pen. You didn’t see him do it because you were too busy looking around.

His mouth opened and closed because he was so surprised to hear you insult him and everyone else at the school; at the same time it was funny to him because you’re right. “ I wouldn’t say that in front of everyone else if I was you, wouldn’t want to piss off people on your first day, wouldn’t ya’?” You nodded your head and pointed your pink manicured finger at him in a “ You’re right” way as you two made it to the little classroom your sociology class was at. You watched Eren open up the door for you to walk in and when you did you were surprised to see that the class already started causing your anxiety to spike through the building.

“ Glad to see you finally made it, Yeager and- who are you?”, A deep voice says on your side. Once your head turned, you lowered your eyes to a short man standing near the podium. He had a short cut parted in the middle, clear subscription glasses on his head, and a black tailored suit with the suit jacket long gone— now he was in a white button up shirt that hugged his medium size chest. Your eyes traveled up and down his body without knowing that he was waiting on you to answer his question. He’s gonna have fun disciplining you.

“ Hey! I asked you a question, so I expect an answer. Who are you?”, the man repeated with anger in his voice. You jumped and cleared your voice, “ My name is y/n l/n, professor—” You looked down at your paper where his name was and looked back at him with a big smile on your face, “ Ackerman.” Levi stared at you longer than he planned because of the way your tits bounced when you rocked your body back and forth due to anxiety creeping up your back the longer the silence and stares got.

Levi pointed to the seat in the middle of two pretty girls, “ Sit there and be quiet, you interrupt you’re staying after for 10 minutes and I don’t give a damn about how late you are to whatever you do after class. Understood brat?.” You frowned while nodding your head at that because is that even allowed? What if you have something urgent to get to? I guess he just said fuck your plans. You then turned to walk your way to your seat with eyes watching you all over. Once you got to the row the two women were at, you whispered a low “excuse me” as you squeezed past the one with green eyes and short hair in a pixie cut.

When you finally sat down you noticed that both of them had their hair in a pixie cut hairstyle, just one with gray eyes and one with green eyes and glasses around her eyes. Both looked at you as you sat your pink water bottle covered in strawberry shortcake or hello kitty stickers sitting next to your pink notebooks and pens.

Mikasa stared at the side of your head as your eyes focused on Levi teaching the class about racial injustices and other things concerning sociology. You paid attention to the way he spoke with his clean little hands and the way he gutted into someone who’s not paying attention. Maki tapped your shoulder, “ Hey, I’m Maki, that one on the other side is Mikasa, she doesn’t talk much because she’s too afraid of professor Ackerman.”

You raised your eyebrow and turned to look at Mikasa who had a resting bitch face. You were about to speak to her but she spoke before you, “ Don’t listen to her if you know what’s good for you. Nobody is scared of the tiny elf of a man, if anything I want to step on him for assigning this much work for us.” You giggled and in reality of that it made them smile and caused the lecturing to stop, “ Let’s hear the joke, you three. Make us all laugh since you shitheads decided to interrupt my lecture…”

You three looked at each other prior to looking back at him, you spoke up instead, “ Sir, we weren’t laughing, just introducing ourselves that’s all. So sorry for the interruption, please don’t let us stay after for 10 minutes.” Levi scoffed, “ Did I say I was going to make you all stay, just for that, you’ll be the only one staying. Now interrupt my lesson again and I’ll make sure you all are banned from my class the rest of the week.” The gasp that left your mouth was loud and you thought that Levi was about to fault you for that, but he stated back teaching again.

You sat back in your seat with your arms crossed the entire lesson. You hated this class and wanted out. Didn’t have any motivation to pay attention because of his words. You were supposed to write stuff down— and you didn’t because you were highly upset. Once you have an attitude you didn’t have the energy to pull through anything. You hated that feeling and it was all because of that short old man.

Once class finished, students listened to what he had to say and you didn’t. “ read and annotate the syllabus carefully, I will be quizzing you all on that particular syllabus. Friendly reminder to read and annotate your sociology text book you were supposed to buy before stepping foot in my class. If you don’t have one, then I suggest you get one because I will be asking questions on that as well. Class is dismissed. Go be shitheads somewhere else.” Levi then stared at you staring off into space, he turned before a small smirk was plastered on his face, “ {reader}, get down here and explain why you were interrupting my class.”

You almost wanted to stomp your heels, almost. In reality, you quietly gathered your stuff and seen two sticky notes on your binder. One with notes and one with names/phone numbers from Maki and Mikasa. You will have to thank them after class, this was so nice of them. As you made your way to him another teacher into the door, two actually. One with square glasses and a bright smile on their face and one with hair covering his eyes and a goatee that suited his face. “ Leviiiiiii, guess what?”, The person with the glasses yelled out as they strolled to his desk.

He didn’t even flinch at how loud they were because his eyes stayed on you the entire time and because he’s used to them. You, however, was someone could see right through and needed to know more about you. He’s seen your last name somewhere but where. He didn’t even notice that four eyes and beanpole stopped talking to him and watched you along side of him walk down the stairs carefully.

Hange hurried to you and held out their hands, “ Hello, you must be the new kid we were alerted about, it’s nice to meet you, I’m professor Zoe, your biology professor and this hunk over here is Professor Zacharias, the anthropology professor.” She held your hand like it was the most precious thing in the world, caressing the top of your hand as she held it. Strange behavior for a professor but you’re willing to push past it because they were fine as hell. Three fine people and they were your superiors, oh how you will love it here.

Miche had his eyes trained on you and so did Levi. Miche was taken back by your beauty, so when he grunted with a nod of his head when Hange introduce him, he couldn’t find the words so that was the last option. You were on cloud nine when you heard the gruffness of his grunt. You needed to pull it out of him when you are riding him.

Levi hit his hand on the table disrupting you staring back and forth between Hange and Miche, “ Hey! You didn’t explain and I don’t like waiting, so tell me what I want to know.” You huffed and held onto your books even tighter to your chest, ultimately pulling your boobs up even more causing Miche to turn and fix his pants, Levi was so glad that he wasn’t easily turned on like Miche and Erwin, who’s not here because of his class going on right now.

“ I didn’t even interrupt the class, I just wanted to clarify that we weren’t laughing because of your lecture, we were laughing because of our names and the way we introduced each other.”, You say while taking out a pink lollipop and putting it in your mouth. Could you be anymore seductive? Fuck. Levi scoffed and rounded the corner to sit on the edge of his desk with a come here motion of his finger. You were confused as you came near until he snatched your sucker out your mouth— your saliva detaching from your mouth and the sucker. Following after that, he grabbed a napkin and placed the sucker on the napkin, “ No eating in my class, second rule in the syllabus. Reasons why you and the rest of your class of heathens need to read them carefully. If I catch you eating in my class again, you’re banned for two weeks— only learning virtually. Do I make myself clear?”

You wanted to cry because why is he so uptight and how will you deal with the fact that you lost your last strawberry kiwi sucker, “ Yes sir. I understand.” Your eyes watered causing him to curse under his breathe. You hated how sensitive you were and your dad was to blame. You hated when men yelled at or scold you and anyone for that matter because you’re not yelling at them, so why are they yelling at you.

He was about to speak when you’re 10 minute alarm went off. You hurried and turned it off, “ Set it for ten minutes so that means I have to get to my next class in five minutes so please let me leave Mr.Ackerman.” He waved his hand as a dismissing motion and you hurried and walked past miche getting a swift of his cologne, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you took in his smell.

As you finally got out the door, they all looked at your sucker before Levi picked it up and gave it to Miche. Hange gasp, “ Him?!! Out of us two, him?!” Levi ignored her and turned his back to them to erase his writings on the board whilst Miche was smirking with your sucker in his mouth. Truth be told, your taste along with the taste of the sucker was everything to him. He’s going to talk to Erwin and Nile about this. On the other hand, levi wanted the sucker for himself, but he saw how miche and Hange was eyeing it. He was originally gonna give it to Hange— only if they would’ve never interrupted his time with you then he wouldn’t have given it to Miche.

You, on the other hand, was rushing to your next class passing by catcalls and shouts, you paid no attention until you were in the building, climbing up the stairs to your next class, statistics 116. You didn’t even pay attention to where you was walking and bump into a muscular back. Shaking your head to get rid of your dizziness creeping up your body to your head, you heard a voice talking to you.

“ Are you alright, bumped into me pretty hard. Surprise you didn’t fall.”, The deep voice said as he handed you your pencil that fell. You looked up and caught the eyes of sea blue and you were so mesmerized by them. He had blonde hair covering his forehead and a pretty smile on his face as he eyed you.

You cleared your throat and smiled at him, “ Yes, so sorry about that, I’m such a Clutz.” You blinked your eyelashes and smirked at him. You watched in satisfaction as his face grew red as the blood in your body. He could’ve been easy, but you didn’t like boys your age. So when your hand touched his as he gave your pen back, you held eye contact with him until it was interrupted by people making kissing noises.

You turned to the sound to see two people hugging themselves and making kissing noises with one guy standing there with a smirk on his faceand his arms crossed. One was a girl with brown hair, one with a gray buzz cut, and the other one with a tied up ponytail and a beauty mark on his eye enhancing his prettiness.

Armin was like a turtle to you, cute and shy. He waved his arms around and told them to stop in a whiny voice and it made you giggle because in your mind he was the perfect sub if you were a Dom. After some more taunting, the buff guy in a black tee introduced himself, “ I’m Aoi Todo, but you can call me whatever you want.” He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips, planting a supple kiss on your soft hand. You smiled and introduced yourself to all of them. The other two named Sasha and Connie were a funny duo to be around. They loved cracking jokes, one of them even said you reminded them of a Sanrio character and they were gonna call you that from now on. You didn’t mind, it just means new friends.

You looked at the time as they all talked amongst each other and let out a gasp, “ I’m late. Real late.” Saying bye to them and walking two doors down was something out of a comedy movie especially when they followed you— whispering amount each other as they watched you walk. You were about to touch the door when your hand got a tiny slap on it from Todo. You raised your eyebrow before seeing him open up the door for you to walk in and as you did, you blew him a kiss— catching it with his hand over his heart with a red hue coloring across his nose was his response to your actions.

Nanami stopped teaching and looked at the group of people who walked in, “ You’re late. I somehow expected this from those three but you, Armin, I’m disappointed but glad you can make it. Please take a seat.” It’s like you wasn’t there for a second when he was scolding everyone else. When he looked over at you, he paused and caught himself by clearing his throat, “ And you must be the new student, { reader}, it’s a pleasure to have you but I must warn you about being late to my class. Take this syllabus and have a seat.” He pointed to the first row chair that was positioned in front of his desk.

His deep voice was going straight to your pussy and you couldn’t help it especially the way his cuffs on his shirt was rolled and the way his glasses sat on his face and the veins lacing his arms. Once you got closer to him to take the syllabus, you got hit with a whiff of his cologne and whisky type scent— your eyes closed in bliss prior to taking it out his hands and sitting down away from Armin and everyone else that you just met.

You wondered how the teachers knew their names and their personalities already if it’s the first day of school. It was weird because normally professors have a hard time remembering names, you’ll have to ask Armin or Eren after this, if you see them.

All throughout class the guy and girl sitting next to you was trying hard to focus on what professor Nanami was talking about, but they couldn’t stop sharing glances with each other, ultimately speaking with their eyes. Reiner was way louder with his thoughts then Annie was. Annie stared at the side of your head until you looked over at her and smiled. She thought your smile was beautiful and unique because not too many people around her even smile or smile at her period. It was throwing her in a loop, meanwhile Reiner was trying to get your attention by putting his arm on the back of your chair.

You would’ve noticed the gesture if you weren’t paying attention to your teacher explaining the difference to proportions with anticipating patterns. You barely managed to understand anything he was saying because the way that he looked back at the students whenever he wrote anything on the board was everything to you. His eyes were so beautiful to you— only could tell because his glasses were off his eyes and placed on his desk, giving you full access to his eyes whenever he turned and asked a question to students he thought weren't watching or listening. You had a small fear that he would be the teacher to pick on you and a part of you wouldn’t mind. Just don’t yell.

The way his hair giggled in the nonexistent wind as he wrote on the green board was beautiful to you. The golden hair that parted in the middle and the cheekbones pulled you in completely. He was a beauty and you needed him. He was magnetic in a way, you couldn’t stop staring at him and him only. He pulled you in and he may be the first crush at this school for you.

You were too caught up in your ditzy thoughts that you didn’t hear him dismiss the class. You were surprised at how long you were daydreaming and he didn’t notice. You thought you were Scott-free because you didn’t get called on or caught so you gathered your things and made your way past his desk he was sitting at. The way your last name rolled off his tongue shocked and aroused you. His voice was so deep and soothing, “ Miss {reader’s last name}, I can’t help you pass this class if you’re not focusing on the lessons. I know you’re new here so I’m gonna give you a pass, please don’t let it happen again.”

You took a deep gulp of your saliva and nodded your head, “ I understand sir, please forgive me.” He nodded his head and picked up a stack of paper with a sticky note on top of it. “ Please take this to Mr. Kamo. Tell him it’s very important from Mr.Gojo.” The grunt sigh he let out at professor Gojo's name was comical to you because you sense that he’s either annoyed by him or just doesn't like him. You had a feeling it was the first one especially from the way he pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

You slowly took the paper out of his hand and then bid him goodbye with a big smile on your face. Your big cheeks was heating up at the thought of his hand brushing against yours, sadly it didn’t— this time. You had no idea who Mr.Kamo was, so you asked around until a timid guy with black hair sprouting along his forehead gave you the directions and building he was in. Even gave you the room number too. After that encounter, you heard that his name was Yuta from his classmate calling him.

The walk to the art lecture hall was long because it was a block away. During that walk, you had your headphones in listening to your alternative playlist and you were loving the breeze on your face as you walked in your heels proudly. Your eyes wandered around you and you spotted a man in a suit with his hair in a half up and half down style— long hair flowing and a bun on his head. He was a gorgeous man walking out of the gym with a bag in his hand. His eyes were looking down to his phone and when he looked up they locked in on you immediately. You realized that he was staring right at you when you were walking past him. He couldn’t be a student, so he was a teacher but what teacher? If you didn’t have that class now in the fall, you’ll have it in the spring.

You thought if you locked eyes with him even longer than you did, you'd have to jump his bones, so when you passed him you averted your eyes to the building next to the gym about two spaces down. That was the building you had to go to and man was it big. You walked to the front door and were about to open it when a teacher- no security guard opened the door for you with a tight lip smirk on his face, “ Welcome, sweetheart.” His voice was fucking deep and soft at the same time, you didn’t even know that was possible but for the scar lip man, it was. You smiled at him and said thank you before walking off with your head filled with the scent of his cologne. He was a beautiful man with green eyes and black hair that dropped down his eyes— buff too. Strong enough to pick you up, so you are definitely counting on seeing him again.

When you finally got to the floor, you walked to the room number and softly knocked on the door. After a few seconds, there was no answer. You were about to leave it on the floor, but you decided to twist the knob instead and leave it on the desk. As soon as you opened the door, you heard soft moans and dick sucking noises from the back of the classroom. You hope they didn’t notice you, but he noticed you as soon as you opened the door. His low and hungry eyes were placed on you as the woman he told to come to his class was giving him head.

You tried so desperately to not get wet at the sounds of his low moans and whines she pulled from him when her mouth was working his cock like it was her last and final drink. The slurping got louder as you walked to the desk with your one headphone piece in and the other one out. You were so glad they could possibly see the right headphone piece in your ear, would save you more from embarrassment. You set the papers on the desk in the dark room with only the projector still on and made your way out the door until you heard a deep voice say thank you. You stopped and turned to him like a dumbass knowing what he was doing.

Your voice came out calm and collected, “ You’re very welcome, sir. Have a nice day.” You smiled prior to power walking out of the classroom and building. You didn’t know who he was getting head from and you should’ve had a different reaction but this school looked fishy as soon as you stepped on the lawn and plus the false advertisement the website has is enough to make anyone turn it down but you and your mother were too dumb and naive to realize, your mother just wanted you near her. Though you couldn’t see Mr.Kamo face properly, yet you knew he was fine just from his moans and voice. On your way to your car to go home, you noticed a small sticker with a phone number on it and Eren’s name on top of it. You were surprised to see it because when the hell did he have time to do this. You most likely wasn’t paying attention when he did it because you were too busy looking around the school when you two walked to your first, well second class today. You did not like calling men first but you’ll excuse this because you had a feeling you were going to love that call. Just like you are going to love this school.

Tagging: @chosoist @happygoluckyalexis @mastermindenoshimaalicia @emomanswhore @neesieiumz @simpingfor-wakasa @nutheadgeenat @honeybleed @angelshub

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arthenaa · 7 months

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Can't think right, too tongue-tied, It must be love | GOJO SATORU

5+1. 5 times Gojo Satoru's confessed to you through his cryptic love language and one time you've had enough.

note: fluff. crack. idiots in love. not proofread cuz im bz w commz. it's gender-neutral. based on experience cuz i like projecting myself into my writing. (if my clients r seeing this, im so sorry i just have to get this off my head or else i will explode) listen to the playlist for immersive reading (its actually part of the story! but its optional if yall prefer silent environments and prefer to listen later hehe)

story playlist:

01: Gee by Girls Generation

"Hey, check your dms."

He nudges you with his elbow—quite rudely if one might add but you've learned to deal with Satoru's little quirks after years of torment. Who wouldn't if you were subjected to concealed torture under the guise of tumultuous hiiiiiiii's, heyyyyyyyy's, and the occasional heavy ass arm around your neck that he keeps leaning on with his fucking weight because he claims, and you quote, "we're besties."

He's annoying and yes, you've since learned to desensitize yourself with his entire existence completely.

However, there are still times when he's managed to surprise you despite all the years of experience you've worked hard and traumatized (exaggeration, yes, but it's Gojo?) yourself for.

"Did you just send me Gee by Girls Generation?"

He looks up from his phone, the circular sunglasses drooping down with the raise of his eyebrows. He glances at you before looking back down again to his phone.

"Yeah?" He replies as if you shouldn't be asking him in the first place. You blink at him in confusion. "Reminds me of you."

"What?" You furrow your eyebrows. "Gee .... Reminds you of me?"

"Yeah," He responds with no hesitance. Somehow, this makes you squint your eyes at him.

"Are you trying to get something out of this?"

"No?" He raises his eyebrow before chuckling, raising his hand to gently bump his knuckles against your forehead. You flinch back at the sudden gesture.

He tilts his head with a smile. "Listen to it on the way home."

There's a pause of silence as you look at him with wide eyes, the phone screen dimming down with every second you leave it untouched. He then purses his lips, shrugs, and slips his airpods in before waving and wandering off to Geto who had just come out with Shoko from the convenience store with a bag of ice cream.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as the two erupt into laughter—Gojo swinging his arm around Geto in the process. You see Shoko turn towards you, an unlit cigarette stick hanging from her lips.

"Y/N!" She calls before nudging her head over. You sigh as the two walk on ahead, too immersed in their conversation to wait for the two of you. You walk over to Shoko as she waits for you with her hands tucked within the pockets of her sweatpants.

Shoko gives you a once-over as you take another peek at your phone. This is just him fucking with me probably. Surely.

"What's with you?" She asks with a drawl of her voice. She adjusts the cigarette with a roll of her lips.

You pocket your phone with a quiet sigh, eyes boring into the back of Satoru's head. "Nothing. Let's go."

02: Super Shy by New Jeans

The next time it happens is when your phone is connected to the Bluetooth speaker in the common area. It was a peaceful morning really, lounging in the kitchen bar, and drinking your coffee while listening to Laufey surely was one way to pass the time.

There weren't any missions for the second years and so you had the place all to the four of you.

You take another sip, eyes drowsily blinking as Bewitched by Laufey plays beautifully in the surround sound speakers that the school funded at the awful behest of Gojo Satoru. (Of course, he gets his way around the administration because they have no choice) It has its use despite how it was taken but past is past and you just want to snuggle yourself deeper in your oversized hoodie, the feeling of a fresh shower, a cup of coffee, and music.

Just as you took another sip of your drink, you heard padding of footsteps descending the stairs from the boys' side of the dormitory.

You turn your head to see the new addition to your peaceful morning only to let out a sigh at the sight of Gojo Satoru yawning, scratching his stomach, then finally turning towards you with a slight surprise—all in that order.

"Y/N," He greets, voice riddled with sleep as he waddles over to you, encasing you with his arms around your shoulders and head against your neck. "'m so sleepy."

"Satoru," You take a sip of your coffee, unbothered by the weight on your back as he almost completely nestles his weight on your body. "You're early."

He has half a mind to take notice of the soft tunes coming out of the speakers as he digs his face into your neck. You stay unbothered to his sudden need for physical intimacy as you place down your coffee to grab your phone.

He raises his head from your neck, chin on your shoulder as he notices your prolonged silence—presumably, distracted by something else. Turns out, he was right as he watched you rack through your playlist for a song to change to.

Taking the opportunity, he snatches your phone swiftly and pressing the search button to play something else entirely.

"Hey!" You complain as you grab his wrist when he tries to dodge your attempts to get your phone back. You force it down to your range of vision as he begins to search for whatever song he wants to play for the morning. "Please don't—"

"Too late," He grins, pressing Super Shy by New Jeans. Soon enough the playful beats of the song surround the area and he's back to his usual giggly and energetic self. He hugs you close and tight, shifting your body back and forth to the beat.

It's too early in the morning and you don't have the energy in you to stop this assault.

"Can you stop?" You whine as he gathers you tightly in his arms, cheeks mushed together, your arms pressed against your chest, and his face buried against your hair.

"Why?" He drawls out the last syllable with an annoyingly cute tilt of his voice. You want to body slam him to the floor. "This song reminds me of you though!"

There he is again.

You're not too sure if you should question it when he's holding this much energy in the morning. He tries to sway your body back and forth to the song and you could almost feel your stomach empty its contents when Geto finally comes to your rescue.

"Satoru!" Geto's voice reaches the kitchen with ease as he stops by the entrance and shakes his head. "Get off Y/N before they die, would you?"

"Fine," Satoru lets go of you reluctantly before trudging over to Geto who comforts him with the promise of making him breakfast. You send a thankful glance to Geto who gives you a sympathetic nod.

You let out a sigh. Your coffee has gone cold and another song from New Jeans' album plays on the speakers

You suppose interrogating Gojo can wait.

03: Love Lee by AKMU

Your eyes glance up from your phone to glare at the winter wonderland-haired boy sitting on one of the chairs to the far right of the classroom. He balances himself on its hind legs with his feet perched up on the table as he continues to type on his phone.

Few seconds later another ding alerts you of a notification.

There's a huff of laughter from his side of the room, presumably from your conversation. You let out a sigh, tucking your left hand in your pocket to cup around for your poor tangled earphones.

"Did he send you another song?" Shoko peers from your shoulder at the open conversation tab of you and Satoru's messages. You grumble in response as you pull the offensive knotted wires from your pocket.

The brunette heaves a sigh as she plops down to the seat next to yours. There's about an hour left before Professor Yaga bursts through those doors and disrupts your moment of reprieve. It's better to just make most of your time now.

You press on the link, leading you to your Spotify app as the song pops up on the player.

"Love Lee?" You say loudly enough for Satoru to hear amidst his conversation with Geto. "Really?"

"You say that as if AKMU isn't godly," Satoru retorts with a raise of his eyebrow. Suguru chuckles beside him, coughing into his hand as if to hide his laughter.

"This is the last time, Satoru." You comment as you slip one earphone to your ear. The blue eyed boy rolls his eyes.

"Is it so bad to send you songs that remind me of you?"

"I said, last time."

He raises his left hand and mimics talking in a mocking demeanor with a close and open of his fingers and thumb. You glare at him shortly.

You press play and the song hums a soft melody with its lowered volume within the speakers of your earphones. Shoko glances at you and then Gojo before shifting her body towards your armrest and resting her arms on it with her chin perched on top.

"He's not gonna stop is he?" Shoko asks with a soft smile on her lips. You glance down at her, hand coming up to brush a stray hair away from her face.

"He's just being Gojo," You retort with a sigh. You twirl a strand of her hair within your fingers. "He'll get bored soon enough."

Shoko stifles a giggle from her lips causing you to raise an eyebrow.

"Sure," She says with a roll of her eyes. You don't like her tone.

"Why'd you say it like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you don't believe me." You frown deeply. Shoko glances down at your phone and then at you.

"You said he sent you D.O the other day."

"And?" You raise your eyebrow at her in confusion. You're not sure what to make of what she's saying but the steady gaze of Shoko's eyes on you somewhat makes you nervous.

"Rose," She adds as if she's trying to prove something already obvious. "Rose by D.O. Then he sent you Love Lee today."

"Yeah, I know?" You sound out the last syllable with a careful tone. Shoko eyes you once more before shaking her head.

"You're hopeless." She grumbles, opening the window to her side and lighting a cigarette. You furrow your eyebrows at her sudden frustration.

"What the hell does that mean?"

04: Only by Lee Hi

"It's good, I promise you!" Gojo flashes you with his cerulean blue eyes that seem to get shinier by the second. You feel uneasy under his stare as he tilts his umbrella to shield you further from the rain.

The two of you are walking to the Samgyupsal place that Shoko suggested eating out at. It had been a while since the four of you gathered in one place— You and Ieri often paired out in reconnaissance missions while the other two were sent to more physical curse-related operations. It wasn't exactly easy to find the right time to catch up but with luck on your side, the four of you coincidentally ended missions on the same week. Currently, You and Gojo have woken up late from an afternoon nap and decided to go there together. The other two had already left a few minutes earlier.

Bad news, it had rained on the way there. Good news, your umbrella was with you.

Since the walking Burj Khalifa had a taller physique and a longer arm, you gave him the role of keeping the both of you dry from the rain.

Your only problem right now though is that Satoru's doing his thing again.

"I thought I told you that last time is the last time?" You shoot him a stern look as he tries his best to give you his mimic of puppy eyes. Well, as much as he can with that sunglasses of his.

"But this one's really good though?" He pouts. "If you like Laufey, you'll like this one. C'mon, please?"

He pulls out one of his AirPods from his right ear before holding out to you. You give him a defeated look as he grins at you cheerfully.

You put it on with reluctance as he pulls out his phone to scroll through his long-ass playlist. You could only get a glimpse of it with how he used the scroll bar you couldn't even see with the amount of songs he's jam-packed in that collection of his. You ought to teach him the importance of sectioning his music, you suppose.

He then finally lets out a noise of victory when he's found the song he's looking for. Soon enough, piano instrumentals begin to play and the mood suddenly shifts to a mellow vibe.

Your chest huffs with recognition as Lee Hi's voice fills your ear with carefully woven melodies and detailed harmonies.

"Only?" You turn to him with a soft smile playing on your lips. He glances down at you with a smile as you both walk to the beat of the song.

"See?" He says. You look up at him with the subtle sway of your head to the addictive flow of the tune. "You like it."

"Of course, I do," You retort with a scoff. "It's Lee Hi."

"Yeah, yeah," He rolls his eyes before licking his lips as he turns to face the street once more. "I meant this. You're starting to like it, I can see it on your face."

You halt your footsteps, causing him to stumble as he tries to shield your body causing a few of the droplets to splash the side of his arm. He stares at you with wide eyes, awaiting your response.

"No I don't."

"You do."

"I don't."

"You do, though?"

"Nope."

"Okay, you don't." He peers at you with raised eyebrows as if he's waiting for you to say something else entirely. You furrow your eyebrows at him.

"You don't get to reverse psychology me, Satoru."

"Not even once?" He raises his pointer finger with a pout of his lip causing you to slap his hand away.

"No!" You put your foot down on this conversation because you know if you don't, Satoru's just going to start to defy until he's going to get what he wants. "Point is, I don't and you can't keep sending me songs for whatever reason."

"I literally sent you them because it reminds me of you."

"You sent me Sour Grapes in the midst of shitting."

"Okay?" He shrugs his shoulders high as if that shouldn't be enough to convict him of murder or something. "That was one time! I told you after that it reminded me of you though?"

"Yeah, like I would want someone to tell me that when they werejust having explosive diarrhea in the dormitory toilets."

"You're kinda mean sometimes you know that?" He huffs as his shoulders droop. In this lighting, he looks like a puppy ripped off its precious treats. You prevent a smile from blooming on your lips.

"It's my charm," You wink at him. He flushes under your watch. At the embarrassed flush on his face, you let out a few chuckles—admiring the way the redness of his cheeks spread to his ears.

"And, cut!"

Your moment gets cut off by a loud clap mimicking a clapperboard. You both turn toward the culprit as Shoko stands with her hands outstretched in front of her and clasped against one another.

"That was a wonderful shot. I'm sure you'll get Couple of the Year at the KBS Drama Awards." Shoko smiles as she tucks her hands in her coat. Your face flushes and soon enough you duck out of the safety of the umbrella with hands outstretched to grab at Shoko. The girl squeals as you chase her inside.

Satoru on the other hand doesn't come in for a minute and a half.

05: Signal by TWICE

"You're keeping a playlist?"

Geto chimes in as he rests his chin on your shoulder. It's the weekend, the day is free, and there's nothing to worry about so you and Geto are in the comforts of the common room in your shared dormitory, playing about 5 rounds of Valorant since 12 in the afternoon.

You glance at Geto who peers into the list of songs. They're mostly Korean pop (He's that obsessed okay) ranging from Girls' Generation to AKMU to TWICE then a couple of NCT, SEVENTEEN, and even Mamamoo. He reprimands you to not lose them buried and laid to waste in your messages because he says, 'I sent them so that means they're carefully thought of and that also means you have to remember them because I said so!'

You responded with a smack under the head and an array of curses you jumbled together in an attempt to scare him off.

It didn't work.

"He just sent me Signal by Twice." You groan as you add yet another song to the lengthy playlist that you only just curated a few days ago. Your eyes take a short glance up at the computer screen with the waiting time on standby as your match queued up in competitive.

Geto pulls away from your shoulder and gives you a raise of an eyebrow.

"Okay, I'm just going to be real with you because all of this is physically making my bones hurt and I'm not even in my twenties," Suguru heaves a sigh. "You've got to be that fucking dense if you don't get that at all."

Suguru looks at you as if you've just murdered his precious 2-year-old Chinchilla named Tiana. You stare back at him with the same intensity.

"You and Shoko have been saying the most cryptic shit—Should I have assumed something?" You retort with a furrow of your eyebrows.

"Should you not have?" Geto doesn't want to be the one to relay whatever Satoru's thought process is but this just has to be one of the most blatant shit he could come up of. He thinks the problem is the fact that it's you.

(To be fair, Gojo's never serious about anything unless it's curses, sweets, or the photocard album collection he has of Huh Yunjin piling on his shelves.)

You throw your hands up in the air and make a series of wild gestures that Geto would’ve laughed at if it weren't for that vein almost popping out of your head.

"Damn, my bad if I didn't get the memo?" You claim with sarcasm, your shoulders are raised and your hands are too busy making circular motions and random movements just to make a point. Damn, Suguru's really trying not to laugh. "Should I have broken down every single writing process, thought, idea and symbolical allusions that these songs went through or something?"

"That's too much of an exaggeration but not technically," Suguru responds with a smile. "It's really just common sense."

A ding from your phone cuts off your conversation causing both of you to peer down at the screen of your phone perched on your knee.

You conversation with Gojo opens and a realization comes next.

You press on the link and immediately takes you to your Spotify. Your breath hitches.

"He sent me Must be Love," You blink slowly before glancing up at Suguru. "He sent me Laufey."

The two of you look at each other before your hand pulls up the live lyrics from below. Soon enough, you confirm your thoughts. Suguru purses his lips as he peers down at the song playing. He scrunches his nose. Oh my Lord, he's cringe.

Suguru repeats your words with a sigh. "He sent you Laufey."

+1 : Must be Love by Laufey

Finding Gojo was a piece of cake (No it's not).

The boy's always wandering about and Principal Yaga's complaints about his absences always left the three of you grappling at whatever possible evidence that might lead you to grabbing the collar of his shirt and dragging him back home.

It was a problem, sure, but it didn't take long with careful observation that Gojo always visits one or two sweet shops regularly when he's craving a cavity or his frequent quiet spots around campus that no one seems to even consider because everyone just assumes that the almighty six eyes user will not subject himself to the cramped and dusty space just to stream and vote on Mnet.

This time, it was easy—too easy that he's actually just in his room because it only took him one glance from Shoko staring into his soul as he tried to sneak out again for him to go back into his room with his tail tucked between his legs.

So yes, you think it's a piece of cake (It's not).

"Do you like me?"

You barged into his room, and marched up to the foot of his bed as he screamed like a little girl with you glaring down at him. He pulls his covers up to cover him even though he's fully clothed. It would be funny if you weren't fuming right now.

"What the fuck?! Privacy?!"

"Yeah, whatever," You roll your eyes before shoving him your phone with the playlist on screen. "Do you like me? Answer the question."

Satoru looks at you with wide eyes and disheveled hair as he peers down at your phone then back at you.

"Can this wait? I still have to watch another episode of Leniverse—"

"Wait, my ass," You snarl as you push him back flat on his bed causing him to squeak before climbing in and encasing him with your leg on each side of his hip and your arms beside his head. You peer down at his terrified eyes but flushed cheeks with a determined look on your face. "Did you hear me complain about you playing me Super Shy the other day? Or fucking Signal?"

"What's wrong with New Jeans?"

"Nothing's wrong with them, it's you who's fucking weird," Your fingers grip the sheets as your breath falters. "Sending me songs as if I'd get that shit."

"... I did say it reminded me of you ..."

"No shit, Sherlock? you think I'd waste the time to assume things?" You deadpanned. Your cheeks flush as you look down at him with pursed lips. "Say it."

His eyes glance at the expanse of your face, admiring your soft little imperfections before raising his hand to move the hair blocking the light from your face. There's a moment of silence before he smiles at you.

"Hey," He starts off light and cups your cheek. "Look, I'm just gonna make this simple for you. You've got two choices—"

There's a certain familiarity with the way he's trying to normally recite the words. You furrow your eyebrows at him. "Are you ... Are you reciting Mina's intro?"

Gojo flashes you an uneasy grin before closing his eyes as he hits his head back against the pillow in frustration. "I didn't expect to confess today. Give me a break."

"So you resorted to that?"

"You didn't exactly give me a chance did you?!" He complains, tone raising defensively. "Acting like you own the fucking room— Which you don't by the way! I'd have you know that my family funded this dormitory so technically I own it. You can't barge in like that! What if I was naked? Or masturbating? Or worse, looking at my Mark Lee pc collection?!"

"I'm not sure as to what the basis is when it comes to ranking those things from least to worst but—"

"Ah Ah Ah!" He sticks his palm against your mouth causing you to be cut off from your response. He continues off on a tangent. "I'm not done! You also so blatantly mounted me at my most vulnerable moment and didn't even let me speak when you tried to interrogate me about my feelings. What if I suddenly just kissed you if I succumbed to my raging hormones!?"

You stare, deadpan as he continues to ramble off.

"After all the work I did," He whines. "The songs! The careful deliberation—"

You tug off his hand with a harsh pull. "There was no careful deliberation with sending those songs because you just fucking sent them for no reason at all!"

"What do you mean?! They all have one thing in common! I told you it reminded me of you!" He argues back. You're both shouting and arguing at each other whilst still in that damned position and you both could care less with it when this is happening.

"You weren't exactly specific, were you?! How the hell am I to even perceive that when I don't know what I'm looking for?!"

"It's right in your face, Y/N!" Gojo exclaims. "All of them are about love. All of them are about liking someone. I can't stress it enough that I basically just sent them to you in different fucking fonts."

You gape at him from your position above as his face completely submerges in a sea of red.

"My bad for being so fucking cheesy! Don't give me that look because Suguru told me he cringed to oblivion when he heard Love Lee. My mental capacity is at an all-time low right now so my shitty ass K-POP playlist will have to do." He delivers one last chance to defend his dignity before letting out a defeated sigh. "So yes, I do like you. Happy?"

There's a pause of silence as you look down at him with a steady gaze. You were already aware of it the moment this idiot delved into your side of music. Sure, you had half a mind to at least understand why he was doing it in the first place but Gojo was skilled in being Gojo. In being himself.

Serious in certain things but not all. Arrogant, selfishly unselfish, and just outright an asshole in a good way. You're not really sure how to assume things when there weren't any reassurance that you could in the first place.

He was too good in being a friend and now as he peers up at you through his beautiful white lashes with the nervous flush on his cheeks, you're suddenly sure about something else.

"If you're not going to say something, can I please just watch Leniverse and wallow in miser—"

"Shut up, Satoru," You whisper as you lean down on your elbows and press your lips into his. He lets out a shaky gasp at the feeling of your lips against his. He responds with ease, encasing you in his arms as he pulls you down to completely rest your weight on top of him. Your hands make way to cup his cheeks as you kiss him deeper with a tilt of your head. He follows your lead quietly before softly pulling away at the slight loss of breath.

You two look at each other with a certain daze in your eyes from the kiss, gaze darting back and forth from your eyes to your lips. He licks his lips (your eyes carefully following the motion).

"You're an idiot, y'know that?" You cut the silence off with a tender smile on your lips as you rest your chin on his chest. "You could've just told me you liked me like y'know, a normal human being?"

Satoru rolls his eyes with a grin. "I'm not exactly normal, am I?"

You nod with careful consideration. "You have a point."

There's a pause of comfortable silence as the two of you gaze at each others eyes before Satoru feels for his phone under the covers. You watch him as you lay your head on his chest, watching as he pulls up his playlist and begins to play the last song he sent you.

Laufey's vocals soon echo in his room and the soft sounds of the guitar accompaniment creates a mellow vibe between the two of you.

"Thank you," You whisper, reaching up to place a chast kiss on his lips. He smiles at the peck of your lips. "I did love it. If it's not obvious enough, I do like you too."

Gojo chuckles with glee as he pulls you to rest beside him in his arms.

"Okay, enough of that. Let's make out now." He pulls you close with a pucker of his lips. You angle your head back away from his assault with a laugh pouring from your lips.

"Stop it!"

"Fuck wait, gotta set the mood—"

"What are you— Why the fuck are you playing White Tee—?! Get off Satoru or I will body slam you into wet concrete. I swear to God—"

"What if?"

"You're sick in the head."

"Thanks, I call it love."

a/n: I was gojo in this and i often sent my ex random ass songs with no context at all and she'd always be like ? HAHA we're just friends now and I still send her stuff and now she knows to put it in a playlist whenever I do it <3 neways hope yall enjoyed this. first time writing Gojo! so mb if it was a lil ooc, had to just get it off my chest and project through his character. teehee. also the playlist serves as actual part of the story! yall can imagine its gojo who curated it for u hehe. have a great week ahead yall!

update: someone sent me who i'd think gojo's ult group is,,, if it isnt obvious from the fic its lesserafim 🫶🫶 he's an avid huh yunjin pc collector but he also listens to other groups like girls' generation, IU, and a sprinkle of nct bc noise core is somehow so like him 😁☝️‼️

#arthenaa #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #ieri shoko #geto suguru #Spotify

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notedgyanymore · 1 year

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Dp x Dc idea 💡

Jazz has been dating Jason for the last few months the bat family loves her, and she hasn't given any of them red flags to trigger their paranoia as to make them look into her past, so to them jazz just seems like a normal nice girl. Everything changes though when she gets custody of her younger brother, who according to her has spent the last six months recovering from an unknown disease in a specialized hospital in another country.

Danny unlike jazz is a walking red flag, you can tell in your gut that there is something inhuman and terrifying about him and now the bat family is scrabbling to find information about Danny and jazz's past which seems so far to be purposely erased in a way that is so efficient that it's as if it never happened in the first place. The bat family current theory is that Danny is some kind of monster/creature that has infiltrated Jazz's life and altered her memories and that she never had a brother in the first place this corroborates with the fact the while Jazz Fenton existence is very well documented by government, there's virtually no evidence of the existence of Daniel Fenton before he appeared the last month with a fake recently made ID.

The truth is Danny has spent the last six months recovering in the ghost zone from an attempted dissection courtesy of Jack and Maddie Fenton and was being taken care of by his ghost guardians/parents frost bite and clockwork, while healing he discovered the that he really likes "living" in the realms specially after a traumatic experience, not having to deal with humans feels great ! Anyhow, Danny decides that he wants to live full time in the ghost zone and makes a wish to Desiree so his identity both as Phantom and Fenton get erased and the only people who remember that he ever existed are jazz, Sam, tucker and of course the ghosts.

Jazz wasn't all that happy about the wish, but she understands that it is better that her parents forget Danny's existence, so they can't go after him again also making a new identity together seems easy enough. The reason why jazz got Danny's custody in the first place was because of the agreement she made with clockwork and frost bite that Danny should at least finish high school and get to complete his eighteen birthday on earth, and they were fine with this deal after all is just a few years and ghost children age much slower which means that clockwork and frost bite would also get to raise their kid.

Danny currently is very unhappy with the deal having to live on earth, specially on a city like Gotham, moreover having to deal with Jazz's terrible boyfriend and his family who are treating him like dirt. Well jazz isn't happy either, she loves Jason, but she will not stand anyone treating her brother this badly, so he better step up before he gets dumped.

Note : Out of the bat family, Jason is the one with the most antagonistic attitude towards Danny, the pits recognize him as a threat to their existence and activate a fight or flight response in Jason. He tries to be sneaky and not say anything bad about Danny when his sister is around, but Jazz knows what going on and is deeply disappointed. Also, after six months in the zone, Danny has gotten worse at hiding his ghostly nature.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dc x dp crossover #dp anger management #This is the longest thing that I ever wrote in English if it's a bit incomprehensive or nonsensical now you know why┐⁠(⁠ ⁠˘⁠_⁠˘⁠)⁠┌#Still #I'm pretty proud of myself.

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elaemae · 3 months

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The premium version of human is here to wreak house, mfs.

[Twst x Obey Me!AFAB!reader]

CHP. 4

PREVIOUS CHP.: PROLOGUE 3

Thank you guys for the likes, reblogs and comments.

Also, to the people who became my followers, I'll be forever grateful for that😊

CW: When MC gets mistaken as a guy, they get referred to as he/him, but the problem is that there's too many males around the MC.

So, I've decided to color the pronouns blue when it's MC that's being addressed. Just to avoid confusion.

CLARIFICATION: The headmaster, and MC knows that Yuu is from another world, so MC decided to play along and pretend that they're from the same world as Yuu. (The human world where MC came from is mostly similar to the human world that Yuu describes. i.e. landmarks, cultural, knowledge, current trends, anime and manga are all mostly the same.)

REMEMBER: Read this before the chapter.

Experience changes people.

If you see MC doing something you think you won't do and you decide to complain about it, remember this:

• You act the way you do because of the things that you've gone through in your life.

• MC is the same.

• They experienced a lot of traumatic events and almost lost their lives a fuck-ton of times.

• Because of that, they've changed. They've diverged from being you into the MC that they are now.

• The life you're living now shall be treated as the MC's canonical past.

• Also, because The Obey Me!cast feels bad from all the times you suffered and almost died because of them, they tend to overcompensate you.

• You get dressed in the finest of fabrics, most luxurious jewels, as well as housed and fed with the best things that the three realms have to offer.

• You don't take them for granted, but years of living with that lifestyle had raised your standards to new heights and changed the way that you act towards certain things.

• You're free to make up your own head canons if you don't like mine, also y'all can give me feedback if you want so I can improve my work.

• This story will be set a few years after the canon of the Obey Me games.

• • • • •

Who would've thought that it would be a bad idea to try to trick someone who literally reeks of luxury to live in an old, bout-to-fall-apart dormitory?

Well, certainly not Crowley.

That fact became known when 'The shady looking dorm leader™' and also, the tablet decided to tag along with you, Yuu and Crowley, but then had to help Yuu in holding you back so that you wouldn't beat the ever living crap out of the headmaster the moment he dared to bring y'all in front of this rustic establishment and say "It had charm". (Too many You's)

Oh really? really?? Oh you'll see real charm when I beat you straight into the afterlife you greasy son of a bitc–

*Ehem*

It did not end well.

So instead of that, the headmaster had to temporarily put you and your fellow stranded-in-dis-school-human into the infirmary as your temporary abode and promised to fix the shoddy dorm so that it can safely house people in it. (Grim will appear in the future, dw)

*Que Azul tryna make you stay in Octavinelle and you vehemently declining that offer.*

Also, you're starting to get creeped-out by the floating tablet that keeps following you around and won't stop with taking pictures. there's also the small maniacal giggles coming out of the device.

• • • • • •

So there you two are, two people that've been kidnapped by this school's fuckin carriage are now bonding in the infirmary and distracting each other by venting about problems back home. (You two are too wary to be able to sleep properly.)

Like, yes Yuu, I'm in a polyamorous with more than a dozen problematic individuals.

Yes, it works out. somehow

Damn, three assignments due tomorrow all from the same subject? Have you ever tried cheating off of your classmates?

Oh— wait what?! a classmate from biology was caught fucking with a professor in a classroom!? Seriously??

No, I unfortunately no longer have a grasp on the concept of private space and poverty.

Yes, maintaining a relationship with a lot of people at the same time can be hard.

A lot of them are rich.

Wait, a seatmate of yours really gave two free expensive sketch pads just because you asked?? Where can I find that person??

Yes they all act like my sugar daddies and my man-children in one way or another.

No, don't you dare pimp yourself out, okay? There may be a lot of people in my life but the important thing is that we all love each other.

We support, comfort, protect, and guide each other to the best we can.

No— that didn't happen in a day, I had to bend over backwards and almost die a shit-ton of times before I managed to wiggle myself firmly into the hearts of those fuckers.

...Q- Questions about our sex life will be automatically ignored.

Just.. be nice to others, even if it's seemingly stupid.

Unless they are absolute scum then just maintain distance.

You just gotta eyeball it to figure out when to stop being nice to someone.

Never and I mean NEVER treat anyone badly unless they did something unforgivable to you.

Don't call me kind. It's easier to have a grasp on other people if you're nice.

Pft— You once saw a book called "How to be a sugar baby 101" in the school library?! And you saw your principal reading it?!

Sure-sure, I'll help you with your math homework— wait a second.. Seriously?? We've been kidnapped, I ain't allowing you to do math. Where the hell did you even hide that thick-as-fuck test sheet anyways?? Up your ass?!

• • • •

You sigh for the third time this hour, looking at Yuu who's making a "Mom.. I threw up in the carpet... I'm sowwy🥺" expression as they stand beside your bed.

"What happened?"

Yuu winced, feeling embarrassed as they hear you talk to them like a disappointed parent, they had failed to appeal to Crowley about becoming a temporary student of this school and now had to be a janitor/errand kid.

"The headmaster said that I'll be the handy-man of the campus while he searches for a way to get us home..."

You feel a vein in your head throb and your eye start to twitch by of the sheer audacity being shown in front of your face.

You are now feeling the immense urge to hex that bird-bitch.

Satan sat straight in his seat, speaking out to the others in the meeting table.

"I can feel irritation and the urge to curse someone again." He said.

It would've been funny if this was another situation.

"That's definitely from MC, isn't it? You mentioned being half-asleep and feeling MC get agitated through your pact mark, right?" Diavolo asked.

"Yes, at least our pacts are still intact..." Satan nodded.

"Great, we can use this to monitor MC even if they're far away." Lucifer stated.

Countless search-parties and interrogations have already been conducted, but they're still clueless on where you can be or who could've taken you.

Even Barbatos couldn't see what had happened.

They're starting to get agitated, MC..

• • • • •

Jade watched as Azul frantically drafts and redrafts a new plan of his.

It seems that something caught the eye of their housewarden in the ceremony today.

"What could be so eye-catching that you're in such a hurry to obtain it, Azul?" Jade couldn't contain his curiosity and asked.

"It's a new student, Jade." Azul started.

"He possesses such a large amount of magical artifacts in his hands, It's unbelievable! They were all high quality too!"

Jade blinks.

"Don't you have enough magical artifacts around?"

Jade is confusion.

"You don't know it because you weren't there." Azul narrowed his eyes at Jade.

"I first thought those jewelry of his were similar to the ones that you can buy with enough money in annual auctions, but then I realized that it's very likely that those jewelry are customized."

"...How so?"

"So I decided to try and take a closer look, but when I actually got closer and almost touched one of them, I felt a strong thrum of magic that I haven't felt before!"

Oh?

Now that got Jade's attention.

Azul has been exposed to a lot of strong, powerful people and magical artifacts over the years that he and his twin were following this dormleader of theirs and yet there was actually an artifact so strong that he can feel strong waves of magic by just almost touching it?

How curious..... If the magic of the artifact was so strong, why didn't Azul sense it up until he literally almost held it in his hands?

Seems like this year won't be boring, after all..

• • • • •

BONUS: Someone has a crush.

"Brother, Your package has arrived— What are you... Are you making fan art of Mr. [L/n]...?"

Idia screams like a dumb girl in a horror movie as he tries to block the screen with his body.

"O-ORTHO?! WH-WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT KNOCKING FIRST??!"

"And... what's with the pose?"

Ortho tilts head innocently, confused on why his brother is drawing a new student in a pose that can often be seen on videos that are called "Thirst traps". he's still confused about why they're called that way.

Idia: "O- ORTHO THIS ISN'T ANYTHING BAD I SWEARAHGJSI—"

*Starts to fuckin steam*

"brOTHER YOU'RE BURNING THE CHAIR!"

"AH CRAP!"

← Pr.3 | Chapter List | Pr. 5 →

Don't forget to like, comment and reblog guys, It's a big help :3

What do y'all think of the chapter? pls respond, I need feedback🥺

I woke up today and decided to kick canon's ass.

Elae: Thanks for reading this far.☺️

See y'all next time~

Next chapter: Prologue 5

@f0urleafedcl0ver

@a-traveling-void-human

@speckle-meow-meow

@leviathans-tail-scales

@citrus-cinnamon

@prefesro

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer x reader #crossover #obey me asmo x reader #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me belphagor x reader #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me simeon x reader #obey me thirteen x reader #obey me solomon x reader #obey me mephisto x mc #twst x reader #twst x obey me #twisted wonderland x reader

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five-thousand-loaves-of-bread · 2 months

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poke hornet nest

my stance on ABA

(my stance on ABA)

as someone with (some) lived experience

most of it is shit.

for long time in past and even now, ABA only service available for a lot autistic people & family.

most of it (< ABA*) still is shit. (*this disclaimer applies to rest of repetition)

heard of more than enough cases of. insurance/school system/etc give pathetic number of hours/sessions for speech, OT, etc for autism but many more hours of ABA. or only cover ABA.

most of it still shit.

some speech & OT & other so called “alternatives to ABA” use behavioral & ABA tactics.

most of it still shit.

for many family, especially those with autistic person diagnosed as “severe” or level 3 and or have extreme behavioral issues etc. their option isn’t “ABA or no ABA.” often, option is “ABA or be labeled as abusive neglectful by government” or “ABA or have child taken away” “you ‘willingly’ enroll in ABA or we take and put them in ABA anyway” or “ABA or lose job.”

most of it still shit.

“ABA or lose job” because school not able or not willing help (because autistic person’s needs “that much”), you keep getting called to pick them up from school, from day care. other people not know how “deal with” your autistic family member, you know how help them a little more but also you sure as hell don’t and are just as lost. so you keep miss work to go pick them up from places that kick them out and you exhausted and you not get sleep because autistic family member needs pretty constant supervision and you not have respite and you not know how help and eventually your job fires you because you keep miss work. and oh did ever mention caring for disabled person extremely expensive? but oh btw there ABA agency you can send autistic family member to for up to 40 hour/week so maybe you can keep job and thus keep roof over head and can still put food on table for family for your autistic family member. oh they also say they may able help with autistic family member behavior so maybe they don’t get kicked out of every necessary service.

most of it still shit.

ABA agencies frequently kick out people deemed too severe or “cannot be helped” or too violent or too many behavioral issues or cause too much harm.

most of it still shit.

in world where may & very often do kill you for seeing you as different thus “threat,” ability mask life saving survival tactic. am talking about POC. am specifically especially talking about Black people. is teaching how mask greater evil than dead killed hatecrimed? sure, no one should have to choose between these two options, but world not care about your morals n your “should”s n your envisioned better future you may or may not be actively help build right now, these people need survive in real world here and now.

most of it still shit.

there (some. a few.) ABA survivors who went thru ABA in past and now who think ABA helped. helped them gain skill. help them prevent harm. some of them don’t see self as abused in ABA or traumatized by ABA. some see it as both abused and helped and grateful for help and hate abuse. some see as both abused and helped and don’t see amount of helped as ever worth abuse.

most of it still shit. (so many were & are abused. n abuse is abuse)

many newer ABA agencies realize ABA heavily criticized n labeled abusive & say they change methods & no longer practice old school ABA & now no longer abusive.

most of it still shit. (many of these agencies still do coercive abusive stuff even if call themselves changed)

some of them maybe truly changed. getting rid of abusive practices, focusing on skill building & adaptive functioning, child-led, instead of drills and forced masking.

most of it still shit.

talk a lot with people who so adamant about “all ABA abuse” “all parents who put child into ABA abused deserve get child taken away” who never was in personal proximity of ABA who. when ask to describe what ABA is in own words, not able to. or give generic response like “abuse & force mask”, but when ask to describe specific methods they do that, not able to. when ask them what discrete trial training and prompting is and what goals may look like and how they write behavioral analysis, never heard of any of them. say listen to ABA survivors, but not able name any individual names. just “oh listen to them online, if you actually listen like me you would know & i wouldn’t need say more so it really your ignorance.” but more often, just get reactionary shut down whole conversation be seen as ableist threat if even be asked first question. how you help advocate for ABA survivors if don’t even know what ABA is? or who ABA survivors? if cannot even talk about ABA? how even fight against your enemy if don’t even know what enemy look like, not able pick out enemy from crowd unless spoon fed?

most of it still shit.

found that. when am talking about ABA. from add nuance to encourage thought provoking questions to even rhetorically ask people to describe ABA. have to repeat emphasize that am not saying ABA all not abusive. even if it first thing i lead with. even if it super clear that am indeed criticizing ABA, just with more grey area and nuances than people used to. lot people will block me from this post just within some paragraphs. lot will block me over saying “most of it still shit” instead of denounce all ABA, when it clear that use of word “most” is deliberate choice n reason of said choice is in every corner of this post. others will finish reading (if even that) and all get out of is repeating “most of it still shit.” made similar posts year(s) ago. and still, find people vague post or explicitly post about me or my post, paint me as evil ABA apologist. whenever come across people who talk about “post where talk about ABA good,” stop and wonder, are they talking about me?

don’t want to talk about ABA because of this. tired, not worth it, often is bad starting point is turn off for people who never seen my posts when have other posts much easier entry point, n start off at bad start may cause them to not listen to me and maybe even other higher support needs and or nonverbal nonspeaking autistics in foreseeable future or ever.

you know, this post started off as “… so you all know i don’t think kindly of ABA right”

throughout write this post, don’t know which part am emphasizing more. the “most of it still shit” part or parts in between.

still. most of it still shit.

#loaf screm #aba tw #aba therapy tw #long post #repetition

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verysium · 6 months

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ACT 1, SCENE 3: blue lock headcanons

sae is into skincare: lotions, serums, the whole set. he and rin used to have self-care nights as children during which they would sit in bed with matching face masks and watch cartoons on the family tablet. if they were in a good mood, they would let you join.

barou listens to classical while working out. no joke. this man is so insanely focused he will shoot goals and play paganini at the same time. his work ethic is low-key why you were attracted to him the first place.

nagi is lazy to the point he will deliberately buy five pairs of the same exact pants just to save himself the trouble of having to choose an outfit in the morning. thank god for reo otherwise nagi would still be dressing like he just crawled out of bed. he still can't do much about his bedhead though.

rin desperately wanted to join sae in the deeper end of the community pool; however, he was deathly afraid of drowning. his only logical solution was to cover himself in pool floaties while he dipped a single toe into the water. even to this day, he still has traumatic memories of that experience. you need to hold his hand every time.

kaiser acts like his football prowess comes entirely from natural talent. in reality, he trains to an obsessive degree behind the scenes. you could come home at midnight, and he would still be there replaying every single highlight of his recent game. he is the type to keep detailed notes about all the players he went up against.

isagi likes to walk around his hometown of saitama and just observe the snapshots of life around him. whether it's a street vendor, children playing on a grass patch, or a couple in the sunset, he secretly enjoys these little vignettes of human experience. he would become sentimental when it comes to you. sometimes you have to pull his head out of the clouds.

nagi has parents who work overseas, so the most he sees of them is through video calls or holiday presents. occasionally, he also gets a birthday card shipped through international mail. when you threw him his first surprise party, he secretly felt touched because his family was never big on physical celebrations.

sae is ridiculously good at anything that involves data and calculations. he participated in a math competition one time in junior high, and he would have made it to the national level had he not been entirely focused on football. refused to tutor rin in algebra though because apparently his little brother has to figure out everything for himself. if it were you though, he would begrudgingly agree.

bachira holds the world record in procrastination. his notebook, pencil, and eraser are still as untouched and pristine as they were on the first day of the academic school year. he does not know what a book is, nor has he read one. he only studied because you refused to cuddle with him otherwise.

ego eats so many cups of instant ramen noodles that his glasses begin to fog up from time to time. anri has to clean the frames and lenses weekly just to make sure his myopic self can even see. at this point, she's the real MVP of the entire series.

barou likes to open the windows right after it rains because he enjoys the sweet smell of petrichor. his ideal day would be spent lounging on a couch with some tea and a novel. it would be even more perfect if you snuggled under the blankets with him.

niko sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night, immensely insecure about his forehead. he thinks it looks giant though it really isn't. you have to brush his fringe back and pepper kisses down his face and remind him that a big forehead means a big, sexy brain, so it really isn't that bad. he believes you and goes back to sleep.

shidou would make fun of boomers. in fact, he'd ridicule every single person he considers past their prime. he does not believe in any form of authority, nor does he like being told what to do. if he had his way, he would have turned the entire world into anarchy a long time ago. the only reason why he doesn't wake up and make himself everyone's problem is because he doesn't want to upset you.

kaiser knows he is very well-endowed physically, so he purposefully walks around your apartment shirtless. if he catches you eyeing him, he will make a big deal out of it. tries to not-so-subtly flex his biceps every time he reaches for the milk carton.

reo loves cocktail dresses, especially in the wine red shade. something about the accentuated figure and natural curves gives him goosebumps. his favorite part of you is when your tummy slightly protrudes after you've eaten too much. you might think it's embarrassing, but he thinks it's adorable.

rin only uses shower gel, mostly because he learned his lesson after using the locker room shower stalls. never use bar soap, always use bottled. he's also the type to always have shower shoes. sae taught him that.

bachira is the type of student to completely misread the question and still not feel bad after the teacher points it out. oh no, he was actually supposed to solve for x, not just circle it? he'll shrug it off like nothing ever happened. at least he tried. the teacher should be grateful for his effort.

sae says he does not understand the sentiments behind cute couple traditions but then proceeds to get upset when you show up to his game without wearing his jersey. would definitely get you matching bracelets for your anniversary.

aiku has a high spice tolerance. he would definitely drown his food either in sriracha or buldak sauce. if you can't handle spicy though, he would set aside a separate plate just for you and manually spoon out the food just to make sure you have something to eat too.

aryu never has dry cuticles. he is always trimming and filing to perfection. sometimes he has beef with your nail tech because he thinks he could have done so much better on your acrylics. refuses to let you go to a salon because he already has all the tools and expertise necessary.

sae does not know how to cook. his manager has always ordered take-out for him. the one time he tried to use a microwave, he completely misread the package instructions and nearly burned the entire building down. called you up with the straightest face afterwards to tell you that the smoke alarms were not shutting off.

barou unconsciously caves into peer pressure. every single new trend makes him rethink his personal style. however, he views it all with an old man mentality. like what are these youngsters doing these days? dying their hair every possible color of the rainbow? he has to do that too. proceeds to call aryu to add red streaks into his own hair. sometimes you have to remind him that external opinion should always taken with a grain of salt.

chigiri has a major sweet tooth. if you so much as bake him one single treat, he will have made plans to put a ring on your finger before he even finishes the damn pastry. his ideal partner is someone mature and understanding who can take care of him well. definitely likes the homemaker type.

gagamaru is the seeing friend in your relationship. no matter how many trips he makes to the optometrist, he will always come back with perfect 20/20 vision. definitely a nature enthusiast, and he loves hiking. even if you're blind as a bat, he will always be there to hold your hand in the dark.

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 3 months

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You’re Too Good For Me ~Larissa Weems xBrienne of Tarth

Summary— Inspired by this post made by @franouo !! “WHAT IF (in an AU) Larissa survived Marylin's atack (SHE'S ALIVE) and needs protección AND somehow Brienne shows up, maybe a portal or time travel (idk how yet) and they start this kind of dry relationship in the begging for mutual interests, like Larissa needs protección (maybe debelop panic atacks after all the trauma) and Brienne needs help to come back to Westeros and the only person who can help is Larissa because all the principal of a "Magic school" thing like Brienne says but with in the time pass they break each others walls and start falling for each other.”

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, smut, eating out, fingering, kissing, implied loss of virginity, flustering, first times, first orgasm, strangers to friends to lovers, implied future smut, etc.

Enjoy (;

By the grace of god or whatever supreme fucking being, Larissa has survived Marilyn’s nightshade poisoning. Everyone said that it had been a miracle. No one had been known to survive nightshade poisoning in the past…

Larissa, of course, was relieved to have survived. She was grateful, mostly. But part of her struggled with the fact that she had indeed died for an extended amount of time. And that she had then come back to life…

It was hard for the blonde to comprehend. The whole experience had thoroughly traumatized the principal… She couldn’t go a day without our heightened anxiety, couldn’t go a week without at least one panic attack.

As the school year came to a close, the events of that fatal night fading into the past, and all the students got sent home, Larissa was left pretty much on her own at the school, as most of the staff had gone too. There were certain responsibilities that the principal had to uphold over the summer at Nevermore, such as keeping the school in good shape for the upcoming school year.

Even though it had been weeks, Larissa felt her anxiety, and panic, and vigilance like her near death experience had occurred yesterday…

One particularly hot summer day, Larissa was making her daily rounds of the school, when she saw a shimmer of blue gleaming in the morning sun down the road from the school.

The blue figure came closer and closer, and Larissa made out the person to be some kind of knight…? The knight came through the gates and walked up to Larissa. At a closer glance, the blonde principal realized that the tall knight was in fact a lady.

“Excuse me? Can I help you…?” Larissa asked.

The woman looked breathless and confused.

“Sorry to bother you, madam… but are you Lady Weems?” Brienne asked.

Larissa was taken aback slightly by the formal title. But she kept her cool demeanor.

“I am. And you are?”

“My name is Brienne of Tarth. I have traveled far to your land to request your aid.” The blonde knight explained.

Larissa looked at the woman puzzled.

“Oh…? And what for?” She asked.

“It seems I accidentally was portaled to your land, M’Lady, and I need assistance to get back. I was told by a fellow traveler that you and your school for magic would hold answers.” Brienne breathed out.

Larissa pursed her lips and nodded slowly.

“Why don’t you come in, Brienne…?” She offered, indicating with her hand to the school.

Brienne’s eyes lit up and she nodded.

“Yes M’Lady…!”

“Larissa will do just fine, Darling.” Larissa insisted, putting her hand up and shooing Briennes formal title aside.

Brienne blushed lightly and nodded. Larissa then led the other tall blonde up to the school, through the corridors, and into her office. Larissa shut the door behind her, and indicated for Brienne to take a seat.

Brienne then spent a better part of an hour explaining how she had somehow traveled through space and time. She had been pulled through a blueish-purple glowing portal, against her will, and turned up in Vermont. After Brienne had finally finished her tarry tale, she asked the begging question,

“So, Larissa… Will you help me return to Westeros?”

Larissa smiled and nodded.

“I cannot promise anything, but I will certainly try my hardest, Darling.” She breathed out.

Brienne’s eyes sparkled with gratitude and hope.

“Thank you M’l—Larissa. How can I ever repay you…??” The knight asked.

“It’s no trouble, Darling, really I insist.”

“No please, let me return the favor…” Brienne insisted.

Larissa signed and contemplated.

“Very well. Now that you mention it…” she breathed out, “I could use your protection…”

Brienne nodded immediately.

“I understand, and you shall have it, Larissa…!” She exclaimed.

This made Lariss smile. She appreciated that Brienne hadn’t pried into why she wanted protection. And she felt grateful at the woman’s eagerness to help.

And that was how Larissa and Brienne’s mutual beneficial relationship started. Brienne was quick to move into the castle, taking one of the available staff private quarters.

The relationship at the beginning was dry and base on pure mutual interest. Larissa did her daily duties to care for Nevermore, and on the side, she back researching possible solutions for Brienne’s return.

Brienne insisted that she help the tall, blonde principal with some of the school duties. Larissa at first wouldn’t hear of it, but then the school caretaker quit on her, and she was forced to face the idea of cleaning all of Nevermore on her own until she could hire a new caretaker. So Larissa let Brienne help her by keeping the grounds clean and tidy, especially the outside.

On the days where Larissa was really riddled with anxiety and panic, Brienne was more than happy to take up more responsibility. Larissa began to trust the woman as she proved herself to be quite capable.

And slowly, the relationship between Larissa and Brienne began to shift…

Brienne and Larissa got into the habit of spending their evenings together. They would sip wine and talk the night away. It got easier and easier as the time slipped by.

“So you are a knight from where you are from?” Larissa asked the other woman, putting her feat up and relaxing in her chair after a long day.

“Mhmmm, yes Westeros…” Brienne sighed.

“That must be difficult…” Larissa sympathized.

“Dear God you have no idea…” Brienne chuckled, using humor to hide her pain and suffering.

“Tell me about it…? If you wish…” the blonde principal cooed softly.

Brienne eventually opened up to the struggle she faced as a female knight back home. She poured her heart out in vulnerability, talking about the pain and suffering she’d endured to get where she was today.

In turn and when Larissa was ready, she began opening up about her death.

“What about you…? I imagine something must have happened…” Brienne prodded, trying not to be too pushy as she knew this was a touchy subject for the other woman.

“I…” Larissa stammered, pausing and taking a deep breath, “I died.”

Brienne had assumed something traumatic must have had happened to the blonde woman, as many nights, Brienne found herself rushing to Larissa’s quarters to comfort the woman from her night terrors and panic attacks.

Soon, the two women began to develop a true bond. And now, Larissa dreaded the say when they figured out how to bring Brienne home. And Brienne dreaded the day Larissa wouldn’t want her around anymore, enough to figure it out.

On just another evening, the women were sitting in Larissa’s office. This evening, Brienne wasn’t drinking, she was too wound up.

“Everything alright, Darling…?” Larissa asked, taking a sip of her wine.

Brienne sighed.

It was bugging her. Her impending leave.

The summer was almost up, the school year would start again, and Larissa would have no time for her anymore…

“I… Simply wound too tight today it seems…” Brienne breathed out.

Larissa pursed her lips and nodded slowly.

“Anything in particular making you anxious…?” She asked.

Brienne bit her lip and looked away. Larissa sat up and placed a hand on Brienne’s thigh.

And Brienne gasped. Loud.

“Talk to me, love. Please…” Larissa pled.

Brienne gulped. Her heart began to race, and her cheeks went rosy red.

“I… don’t want to leave” she whispered in confession.

The knight looked down in sadness, not being able to meet the other woman’s gaze. She expected Larissa to condemn her or get angry.

But instead, Larissa’s one hand caresses Brienne’s thigh in calming circles, and her other hand came under to cup Brienne’s chin. Larissa moved the woman’s head to meet her gaze.

As Brienne met Larissa’s eyes, she saw sparkling orbs. They weren’t filled with anger, no… care…? understanding…? something else…??

Brienne’s breath was bated and shallow.

“Hey, it’s okay, Darling. Take a deep breath” Larissa breathed out in comfort.

And that Brienne did. She took several, before meeting Larissa’s gaze one more.

Now the blonde principal’s eye flickered away from Brienne’s gaze, down to the blue knights lips and back up. It was just for a fraction of a second, but it was clear.

“I… I don’t want you to leave either.” Larissa breathed out softly.

Their eyes were locked together, stuck in this trance, Larissa’s hands still on Brienne’s chin and thigh. Brienne bit her lip anxiously, her stomache having erupts with butterfly’s.

They were entranced by each other’s gaze, presence, being… Each blond wanted the other’s lips on their own. Now it was Brienne’s turn for her gaze to flicker down to the other woman’s lips.

Larissa took this as her cue to lean forward more, bringing the two impossibly close. Brienne instinctually leaned further forward, leaving mere centimeters in space between their lips. But it was Larissa who closed the gap, her soft, plump lips pressing into Brienne’s lips.

Brienne immediately let out a light gasp. At first Larissa thought that it wasn’t a good sign, until Brienne suddenly grasped Larissa’s upper body with both hands and tugged her closer and tight. Larissa let out a breathy groan, her lips not pressed and bruised against Brienne’s.

Larissa began exploring, letting her tongue run along the other’s lips. Brienne immediately hummed in delight, leading to the blonde principal to start nipping and putting more playfulness into the kiss.

The more hums and gasps and sighs Larissa pulled from the blonde’s lips, the more encouraged she felt to heat up the kiss, until the two of them finally had to pull away for oxygen after a solid couple of minutes of breathless kissing.

Brienne blushed and looked away, as Larissa met the her gaze.

“Was that alright…?” Larissa asked.

Brienne blushed even harder and bit her lip, nodding slowly. Her gaze returned to the other woman’s.

“Perfect” Brienne whispered.

Now it was Larissa’s turn to blush and look away. Before Larissa could look back at Brienne, the knight pressed her lips against the blonde principal’s.

The kiss reignited, this time more heated and just as passionate. It started to become sloppy, tongues intertwining and breath mingling. Moans and groans escaping both women’s mouths.

Larissa’s hand on the other woman’s right began to push up on her thigh, riding Brienne’s night gown further and further up. Her other hand found purchase behind Brienne’s neck.

Brienne’s hands then sprung for Larissa’s hips, pulling the woman practically in her lap. Larissa groaned and bucked her hips into the knights lap. Brienne’s eyes threatened to roll back.

“M-more more more…” Brienne chanted in a whimpering plea.

Larissa couldn’t deny the beautiful knight. She slid down off of the couch, and she guided Brienne to lay back on the couch. Brienne’s panting was erotic and loud, spurring Larissa on even more.

Kneeling in between Brienne’s legs and at the edge of the couch, Larissa looked up at the desperate woman.

It only now struck each woman what they were about to do.

But the exchanged glances solidified the fact that neither of them would regret it, and that they both wanted it just as bad as the other.

“Spread your legs for me, Darling…” Larissa breathed out in her sultry tone.

God Brienne felt sparks and waves of pleasure from this woman’s voice alone… She’d never felt this good before.

Brienne laid back all the way on the couch and immediately spread her legs for the blonde principal. Larissa sat herself right in front of Brienne’s core, rolling up her night gown and staring at the knights gleaming sex.

“W-what…?” Brienne stuttered, already starting to bliss out and confused as to why Larissa was merely staring.

“So pretty…” Larissa breathed out, entranced by Brienne and her dripping cunt.

Before Brienne could respond, Larissa had dove into her pussy. She wasted no time in slurping away at Brienne’s juices. Brienne’s hand jolted to Larissa’s hair, tightly grabbing her head by her pinned locks and shoving her further into her own cunt in desperation. Her other hand flew to the couch, scrunching the material in a tight fist.

“Ah ah AhhhHhH Larissa—” Brienne moaned out, her head thrown back and her eyes screwed shut.

Larissa licked through the woman’s folds, sucked and tapped her clit, bit and nipped at her inner thighs. All of this only made Brienne closer and louder. Her hold on Larissa’s hair tightened impossibly tight.

“Ah AhHhhHhhHh—!!!” Brienne cried out, her back arching and her hips jerking towards Larissa.

And when Larissa’s fingers began to circle Brienne’s entrance, and then actually entered the woman… Brienne lost it.

“God Lariss—AHHH…!!” Brienne screamed, “Faster FASTER—!!!” She begged.

The woman tore both her hands up towards her head. Larissa watched Brienne mesmerized the entire time. She added another finger and fucked her faster, fastening her lips to the woman clit. With a couple harsh sucks, Brienne snapped.

Brienne shed jolted back as she screamed through her orgasm. Her back arched even further, her body pulsed. She saw stars and her walls clenched hard around Larissa’s fingers.

“AH AH AH ahhh AhhhHhHH—!!” Brienne moaned and cried out.

Larissa watched jaw dropped as she fingered the woman through her orgasm.

She’d never seen anything so beautiful…

Once her cunt had stopped pulsating and clenching, Larissa slowly removed her digits. She just looked up at Brienne speechless.

Eventually, Brienne lowered her hands to reveal her hard blush.

“S-sorry… mm was too loud…” Brienne murmured.

Larissa shook her head with an open mouth. She promptly shut her mouth upon realizing how long she’d kept it open.

“No no, I… Was…. Was I that good..??” She breathlessly reassured her.

Brienne blushed furiously.

“I… I’d never… never you know…” Brienne whispered.

Larissa’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped again.

“Oh Lord, I didn’t even ask. I am so sorry, Darling—” the blonde principal began rambling.

But she was cut off by Brienne lunging forward, taking Larissa face in her hands, and smashing her lips against hers. She pulled away after a moment, and the other woman had her answer.

Brienne was beaming and Larissa couldn’t help the little smirk on her face.

“Perhaps a bath…” Larissa suggested softly.

“Don’t you…?” Brienne asked, concerned that Larissa hadn’t been helped.

But Larissa shook her head.

“Later. You need to be taken care of first, Darling.” She insisted.

Brienne blushed furiously yet again, before happily being led by Larissa to her private bathroom to take a bath together.

~~~

Brienne of Tarth Masterlist

Larissa Weems Masterlist

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sempersirens · 9 months

Text

a bird in your teeth, III

masterlist

summary: joel deals with the aftermath of a traumatic experience

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: 18+, mdni, neighbour!joel, age gap: reader is early-mid 20s, joel early 30s. no break-out. reference to past SA, trauma, nightmares, general symptoms of PTSD. eventual smut

a/n: hello lovelies! slightly longer part ahead. i've decided to make the next part the final installment of this mini-series, i wanted to explore some more intimate aspects between joel and reader that didn't quite fit here. i hope you enjoy! <3

word count: 3.5k

The sweet chirping of birdsong felt like Mother Nature was playing a cruel joke on you as you stood on the side of the street, arms hugged tightly around yourself. You felt as though the birds were laughing down at you, cackling at your wretched state, sharing an inside joke at your expense. As dawn drew in, her rosy fingers pulled at the remnants of the night's sky. The beauty of the orange and pink hues was wasted on you. To you, it served as a reminder that even as a new day rolled in, the memories swarming your mind wouldn't fade quite as swiftly.

When Joel's truck came hurtling towards you, all notion of time had faded away. You couldn't tell if seconds, hours, or even days had passed since you had lowered your phone from your face. Fifty dawns and dusks could've gone by for all you cared.

The heat from your pumping heart manifested into a blush that crept up your cheeks, and the consequence of your damsel-in-distress phone call settled in your gut.

Joel was here. You had called him, and he had come.

"What happened?" His expression was stern, hair disheveled, and flannel shirt almost comically misbuttoned. You would've laughed if you could remember how.

He grazed your bloody lip with this thumb.

"Sweetheart, what happened?"

"This was a mistake..." You became aware of his hands now on your arms. "Please, don't touch me."

The words tumbling out of your mouth must've sounded as limp and pathetic as you felt. Joel's eyes softened into confusion, and then concern. You didn't have the energy to pull away, but you couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eye anymore. You feared his gaze would open every locked door inside of you and allow the mess to collapse onto him.

He said your name, softly, removing you from his grip and opening the passenger door.

"Let me take you home."

As you had done all night, you silently obliged. Joel guided you into the truck, his hand hovering over the crown of your head. He closed the door gently and made his way into the driver's seat, starting the ignition in silence. Was he angry? You couldn't work it out. His knuckles were wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel they had turned white.

"Joel, please don't be angry with me."

"I'm not angry. I'm taking you back to my place, gonna get you cleaned up, and then when you're ready..."

"Is Sarah okay?" You interrupted.

"Sound asleep. I gotta take her to school in a coupl'a hours, but I'll come straight back to you."

This wasn't right. You shook your head in soft defiance, staring at your lap where your hands sat, fingers interlocked. As you thought of all the trouble you had caused him, you noticed your thumbnails digging into your hands so sharply that you had drawn blood. You turned your palms shakily onto your bare thighs to hide the fresh droplets.

"Honey, where are your shoes?"

Joel's soft inquiry snapped you out of your trance; you hadn't even realized you'd left those fucking cowboy boots on the bedroom floor in your rush out of the front door.

"I left them... I-I didn't think to..." Your breathing became erratic again, chest heaving with each rise and fall feeling like a weight was crushing into your ribcage.

"Hey, hey hey. Breathe. You're with me. You're safe with me, you know that." He reached across your lap and squeezed your still interlocked hands, filling his lungs with air and then exhaling slowly through his mouth like he was a midwife guiding you through childbirth.

You copied his rhythmic breaths, focusing on the emerging purple colors now littering the sky. It was cruel for the sky above you to be so warm and inviting.

You wished for an English February; for thick layers of ice coating the ground with black ice hidden underneath. You wanted it to be the cold that had caused your muscles to freeze, or the harshness of a dry wind to be clawing down your throat. You wished you could blame the weather for the way your body was reacting.

Of all people, you didn't want Joel to see you as weak. You internally reprimanded yourself for pulling him out of his home, away from his daughter to come and save you. Your body and soul had never taken to relying on others easily. Who had you become? You were supposed to be strong. You moved across the world all by yourself, for god's sake.

"What's goin' on in that head of yours?"

"Everything."

The remainder of the journey was silent.

Joel pulled into his driveway, soon exiting the truck and jogging to your side to help you out.

"Easy, darlin'."

He carried your handbag on one arm and looped the other to support your waist. With his free hand, he unlocked the door and closed it quietly behind him.

"Sarah's not gonna be up for another couple hours, you go make yourself comfortable in my bedroom, I'll bring everything y'need."

You gave him a pathetic nod before traipsing up the stairs you had watched Sarah scurrying up only six hours ago. Despite your years of friendship with the Millers, you had never actually gone into Joel's bedroom. You had snuck a peek or two inside whenever the door was left ajar if you passed on your way to the bathroom, but had never set foot inside.

His bedsheets were haphazardly thrown back, half dangling onto the carpeted floor. The fan on his dresser was still humming, sending ripples through his pillowcases. You were reluctant to make yourself at home as he had instructed, so perched on the edge of his bed eyeing the posters dotted on his walls. His bedroom looked like it hadn't changed since his 20s, reminding you of how young he must've been when he started a new life to bring up Sarah in a home he could call his own.

Joel appeared at the door, shutting it softly behind him. He was balancing a steaming mug and a first aid kit in one hand, and some pillows from the sofa under his other arm. He set the mug down on the nightstand beside his bed. Tears swelled in the corner of your eyes at what you recognized as the Yorkshire Tea he kept stocked in the cupboard, especially for you.

"Want you to sit back and get real comfy, alright?"

"Okay."

You hesitantly lifted your legs to rest on the bed, shuffling backward towards the headboard. Joel set the first aid kit at the foot of the bed and leaned over to place the pillows behind your back.

"That okay?"

You nodded your head without looking directly at him.

Wordlessly, Joel walked around to the other side of the bed, setting himself down with a barely audible groan. He brought the first aid kit into his lap and started sifting through the contents.

"You mind if I take a look at your lip?"

"No. I mean - that's fine."

You parted your lips slightly, Joel's fingers lifting your chin up towards him.

"Washed m'hands, promise."

He pulled your bottom lip down to inspect the wound, cleaning the now-dried blood from your chin. The silence in his bedroom made his touch even more intense. You'd felt his hand on your waist, or accidentally brush past your bare skin now and then, but this... You had never been touched by anybody like this before. His eyebrows were furrowed tightly as he put all of his focus into handling you with care.

You had been with your fair share of guys before; boyfriends, one-night-stands, whatever. But the way you felt under Joel's gaze in this moment, holding your chin between his thumb and index finger, made you feel like nobody had ever truly touched you before. Like you were brand new. It made you want to sob. You had to start regulating your breathing again to prevent your lip from wobbling, shattering your impenetrable exterior.

"M'I hurtin' you?"

Finding courage hidden somewhere deep inside of you, you leveled your gaze with his. This close to his face, you could've sworn you saw his pupils dilate.

"No. It's fine, thank you."

"You're doin' so well, honey. Keep breathin' for me." He moved his thumb to stroke your jaw as he spoke.

"I'm sorry, Joel."

"Don't say that. This ain't your fault."

"How can you say that? You don't even know what happened."

"Don't need to. But, I'd be grateful if you'd be so kind as t'fill me in."

You sucked a breath in and brought your knees up to your chest. The birds outside the window began mocking you with their song again.

"You get in a fight? W'that friend of yours who picked you up earlier?"

Oh god. He really had no clue.

"No, nothing like that."

"Somethin' while you were out? Sweetheart, someone had t'have busted your lip like that?"

"I said no."

"So what, you don't remember? You taken somethin'? You're scarin' me, darlin'."

He was pleading. It was dripping all over his face, this deep despair searching your features for the answers your voice couldn't quite give him.

"No, I do. I mean- I said it, I said no. To a guy. O-one second I was falling asleep and then... he was just there, Joel. He appeared out of nowhere. I thought he had gone home. And I was saying no but he was all over me. He was everywhere."

Hot tears were streaming down your cheeks, a dichotomy of relief and anguish flooding through your veins so intensely that any hope of maintaining a stoic facade had long washed away.

You didn't make a sound as you sobbed. Your entire body jerked with each breath, snot ungraciously dripping onto your upper lip. It didn't matter. Joel wrapped you into him without hesitation, your face nestled against his shoulder. He rocked you in his arms, back and forth, back and forth. Your sobs intensified into his t-shirt, eyes squeezed shut. You could feel the tears clinging onto the material, but all he did was hold you tighter.

"Oh, baby girl. It's okay, I got you. I got you now."

"I'm so sorry, Joel." You choked the words out.

"Don't you dare apologize. You let everythin' go. Give all that hurt t'me. I'll take it for you."

Joel pulled you into his lap, your legs collapsed underneath you. He placed a hand on either side of your face, holding you inches away from his own. He had never seen you like this. It shattered his damn heart. He had to keep blinking to fend off his own tears.

“You did the right thing, callin’ me.”

Every inch of him wanted to go back in time to you lingering in the doorway and ask you to stay the night. Hell, he would've gone back to that first time he saw you and taken you in his arms like a sailor returning home from years at sea. The only reason he'd even had the courage to turn up at your front door, mumbling something about burgers, was because Sarah had caught him peeking at you through the curtains for the first few days of you moving in. If you like her so much, why don't you ask her on a date? She had asked so innocently. But she was right; it was that simple. He fired up the grill before straightening himself up and jogging across the street. A Glenn Campbell record had been echoing through your house, something he found even more endearing when he was struck by that accent of yours.

He wanted to tell you that the reason none of his first dates made it to a second was because none of them were you. He was setting these poor women up to fail; how could they ever compete with you?

But right now, you were here. Safe in his arms. He was going to do everything in his power to bring that light back into your eyes.

An hour or so passed like that. You pressed against his chest, falling in and out of a dreamless sleep, Joel's fingers grazing soothing patterns on your arm.

The sound of Sarah's bedroom door closing jolted you awake.

"Ssh, it's okay. S'just Sarah getting ready t'head out. Gimme a minute to go say good mornin'."

You nodded in response, mustering a small smile.

You felt tiny alone in his bed, the absence of his body leaving you feeling hollow. You pulled the covers up to your chin and drew you knees up to your chest, dreading to think what Joel would tell Sarah. She called me in the middle of the damn night, what was I s'posed to do? Maybe she'll get the hint and leave. Imagined narratives swarmed your mind.

Why was it so hard for you to accept his help?

"Oh my god," you gasped, sitting up. "Daisy."

In your state, you had left her there all alone. Mark seemed like a nice enough guy, but didn't they all?

You reached for your handbag hanging off of Joel's door handle and searched for your phone.

14 missed calls. You tapped your foot against the floor anxiously as the dialing tone sounded.

"Moooornin' Ms. Cocktease. How's ya head?" She chirped, the relief that engulfed you allowed your body to slack back onto the bed.

"I am so glad to hear your voice." You breathed.

"That's romantic. You gonna tell me what had you scurrying off in such a hurry at 3am? Y'left your damn boots behind."

"I was... really worried about missing my 9am. It's with my thesis supervisor."

"Sweetheart, a love you but you gotta learn to relax once in a while. Let off some steam! Unclench your jaw, woman."

"I know, I know. I'll work on it."

"How'd you get home, anyway?"

"Oh, um. I called a cab."

"I feel like you're lyin', and I intend to find out what's goin' on. I swear to god if you're fuckin' that old man I'm not gonna know whether to be proud or-"

"Listen, babe, I'm glad you had a good night. Give me all the gritty details over coffee tomorrow?"

"Oh fine. Enjoy your meeting."

The line disconnected as Joel re-entered the room.

"Hey, sweetheart. I'm gonna drop Sarah to school, but I'll be right back. Need me to pick you anythin' up from your place?"

"No, that's okay. I should get out of your hair-"

"I'll be right back."

He walked over and placed a kiss on the top of your head.

---

Joel couldn't concentrate for the entire drive back to his place. He had to pass the street he had picked you up from hours prior to get to and from Sarah's school. The image of you standing there so broken, now knowing exactly why, filled him with grief for the version of you he knew and adored. He wished he had known there and then what you had endured. He knew how strong and capable you were of looking after yourself, so he had to fight every urge to raid each block of flats along the street to find the guy who had done this to you.

He flexed his knuckles back and forth over the steering wheel, forcing himself to go straight home. Back to you. However you decided to deal with this, whether it be today or in five years' time, he would be behind you.

What he would do to find that pathetic excuse for a man, that boy, and slowly take each finger off that he had dared to touch you with. He would make him hurt in ways he didn't even know he could feel pain.

Joel's mind flicked back to the image of you breaking down in his arms and he sucked a breath in to steady himself. He wished he could take all of your pain away and alter the course of the last six hours to have you waking up in his arms unscathed.

He returned home to find you curled up asleep in his bed sheets. He crept under the cover next to you, about to pull you back into his arms when you started thrashing your arms and legs.

"No, stop!" You murmured, still fast asleep.

"Sweetheart, it's me. Hey, hey, hey. It's me. It's Joel." He spoke, holding your face between his hands to try to coax you out of your nightmare.

"Wake up, darlin'. You gotta wake up. It's me, you're safe."

Your eyes finally widened, consumed with fear and confusion. You searched your surroundings and backed away from Joel's grip, still calculating where you were and what the threat was.

"You're okay. Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby."

"Joel... I'm sorry, I-"

"Stop apologizing, I'm sorry. I didn't mean t'scare you, honey."

You sat in silence for a few minutes, slowing your breathing back down and ridding the sound of blood pumping in your ears.

"Do you mind if I have a bath, please?"

"Anything. I'll run you one now. Sarah has some o'that fancy girl soap if you want?"

You smiled softly.

"Sure, that sounds nice. Thank you, Joel."

Before heading to the bathroom, he placed a small kiss on your forehead, lingering with his lips on your skin for longer than he had before. Your eyes fluttered closed as you listened to his footsteps out of the bedroom.

Part of you was desperate to scrub away Elijah's touch until your skin was raw. But, another part of you didn't want Joel's smell to fade from you. In his arms his scent had consumed you, replacing the smell of your laundry detergent with his.

You squeezed your eyes tightly and shook your head.

Stop this. You're projecting onto him. He's looking out for you out of the kindness of his heart and you're taking advantage of it.

You tried to distract yourself from the fixating on the feeling of Joel's lips against your skin by shedding last night's clothes and replacing them with his dressing gown. Which of course also stunk of him. Great.

"S'ready." He called.

Catching sight of you in his dressing gown, Joel had to remind himself to close his mouth.

"Suits you." He smiled.

The bathwater was obscenely pink, bubbles almost escaping over the side of the tub.

Joel stood uneasily as you smiled at the domesticity of the scene.

"I'll give ya some privacy. Make myself busy downstairs. You just holler if y'need me, alright?"

"Joel, wait. Would you... it's stupid."

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"Would you sit with me? I really don't want to be alone."

Joel’s response came so quickly you didn’t even have time to feel bad for being so forward.

"Of course I will. You get yourself comfortable, I'll wait outside the door."

You discarded his dressing gown onto the floor, sinking into the warm tub. You ran some more hot water, feeling unsatisfied until the water was hot enough to leave your skin red wherever it touched.

"Come in." You called, your torso submerged underneath the bubbles with just your collarbones and toes poking out of the pink waters.

Under any other circumstance, he would've dropped to his knees by the side of the tub and told you that he had never seen someone look so perfect before. Your flushed cheeks and hair bundled behind your head against the tiles made Joel feel like he was staring at an oil painting in a gallery.

He adored you. Fuck it, he was in love with you. From the very beginning.

Joel lowered himself onto the closed toilet seat, arms resting on his knees.

"Temperature okay?" Was all he could muster.

"I added a bit more hot, I hope that's okay."

"You women and your damn hot water." He teased. "S'absolutely fine, honey."

Neither of you spoke for a little while, you rested your head back and soaked in Joel's protective presence.

"Can I ask you somethin'?"

"Of course, Joel."

"Did he..."

"No. It's funny actually, he couldn't get it up." You said dryly.

"But he tried?"

"Yeah, he tried."

"I'll kill him."

Joel's protectiveness overwhelmed you, feeling for the first time in your life that you had someone unconditionally in your corner. You lifted your arms from the water to cover your face in embarrassment, revealing finger-shaped bruises that had formed on both of your upper arms.

"Fuck," he breathed when he caught sight of the way you had been mistreated.

He knelt down beside the bathtub, gently pulling your hands away from your face.

"What can I do, honey?" He searched your face for an answer. "Tell me how to take all this away for you."

"Joel, you've done so much already. More than I could ever ask from you."

"I just wanna fix it."

By nature, Joel was a fixer. He patched up Sarah's knees and elbows after soccer games. He bailed Tommy out of jail more times than he would admit. Hell, he even fixed things for work. It was what he did.

"I want you to take me back there." You exhaled a breath you didn't realize you had been holding. "To the apartment. I need to go back."

"Y'sure that's a good idea?"

"I am. But I need to go in alone. I just want to know you'll be waiting outside for me if I need you."

"Sweetheart, I'll always come when you call."

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #my fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #pedrostories #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #a bird in your teeth #a bird in your teeth fic #breakfastatjoels

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man-down-in-hatchet-town · 3 months

Text

Hey, you!

Yeah, you!

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We’ve got:

-Two Rocky Horror-style concerts of the cult-hit, spy-movie parody musical Spies Are Forever. Gay protagonist who will sear himself into your heart! Seriously, his relationship with fellow spy Owen will emotionally destroy you for at least seven years.

-A concert of the developing musical This Could Be on Broadway, which follows a group of high school kids putting on a production of The Matrix: The Musical (not a show in real life) in their theatre department. A bunch of the central kids are canonically some flavor of queer, and there’s a central, very sweet lesbian romance that includes a trans character. She’s played trans actress Esther Fallick, who also worked with TCB as a consultant to make the character and show as authentic as possible. Seriously, if you want to see a trans teen thriving in their own skin, this is the show for you.

-An Edinburgh Fringe Fest production of The Solve It Squad Returns, a Scooby-Doo parody that follows the parodic versions of the Scooby Gang when they reunite as fucked-up adults to finally confront the almost-twenty-years-past traumatic murder of their dog Cluebert. I promise it’s funnier than it sounds. Esther, the Velma-esque super genius, is gender non-conforming and identifies with they/them pronouns. They also have a girlfriend WITH a boyfriend!

-A workshop reading of the QUEER SCI-FI TELEVISION COMEDY PILOT Intelligent Life. Unlike the other projects I’ve mentioned, this one is new to the TCB fans, but will follow a pair of ex-boyfriends forced to survive together in an extra-terrestrial colony. From the sound of it, there will be plenty of queer supporting characters as well. This frankly sounds like it could be tumblr’s dream show, and it’d be great to support its development.

-The Great Debate—a live comedy game show where comedians debate silly things. While this obviously won’t have narrative gay rep like the other projects, it will showcase gay talent (at the very least, Tin Can Brother Corey will participate in every show) and may include debates involving queer topics.

-Gross Prophets, in which three wannabe gurus/cult leaders lead a seminar on the path to enlightenment. This is a completely new stage musical so I honestly don’t know if it will contain any queer characters or themes. But the TCB queer track record is pretty good!

Guys, I’m so genuinely so excited by this season. But all this awesome queer art won’t happen unless we get their kickstarter funded. And they need our help! So let’s get fundraising!!

TLDR; Comedy group Tin Can Bros are attempting to fund a season positively filled with queer stories and characters, and they need help! If you want to support the creation of queer theatre and the development of queer TV, consider checking them out and giving to the kickstarter!

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mamsieur · 6 months

Text

Evil Twin | Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Floyd!Reader

Summary : Who would have guessed that sweet and discreet Bob had a twin sister who was his opposite ? Not the Dagger Squad, that's for sure.

TW : mention of past abuse, mention of abusive relationship, mention of alcohol, mention of sex, angst and fluff, angst with happy ending

Length : 6980 words

AN : Bob is the sweetest and I'm sure he's an overprotective brother.

posted on AO3 July 22, 2023

You were the quintessential of the pop-rock star. You had a lot of problems with the press, both concerning your love life and the setbacks of your ex-band.

The first problem was that you were often seen leaving hotels with different partners : the press loved that you didn't settle down and always made a big deal out of it. You didn't really care, you knew the tabloids always twisted the truth just to sell more garbage. What bothered you was that your mom kept calling you about it, wondering why you couldn't be discreet and serious, have a normal job like your twin; the perfect little Robby, pride and joy of the family. He was in the navy, serving the country, and your father liked to remind you that Robert was doing something useful, something great. Yet, you didn't care what the public and your family thought of you. You just wanted to play your songs, have fun on stage and in the studio. It was your cop-out after some traumatic experiences you went through in high school.

As for your problems with the band, it was a different kettle of fish.

You were the lead vocalist and guitarist. You loved being on stage, it made you feel powerful, in control. You were backed by three talented but lazy guys about your age. It was your agent's idea to put you in charge of them. And what a great idea. At first it was fun, you had a good time. But as time went by, their excesses slowed down your rise in the charts. And they wasted all their time, energy and money on the wrong things. Every day, the press had a scoop about them doing something illegal or immoral. The last one on their list was being seen exiting a bar with underage fans.

Those recent events forced your label to give you a choice; either the whole group was fired or you could continue as a solo artist; your producer and staff knew that you weren't really a troublemaker, so it was a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. You didn't even hesitate to sign your new contract ; and that led to a new scandal in the press, creating false drama between you and your ex mates. But as much as you were determined to make a name for yourself, you also needed a break from all the “scandal” that was going on. You made a deal with your producer and new agent: you had one month to come up with at least two singles, while you could go anywhere you wanted to find inspiration and relax.

And what could be more relaxing than the seaside ? The beach, the sun, the salty air, the feeling of being in an eternal summer ? It was perfect. You booked your flight to San Diego and rented a small beach house on Airbnb. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, maybe running into your twin brother at the local bar.

The Hard Deck seemed like a pretty chill place and the owner, Penny, was really nice. You spent some evenings there, trying to come up with some lyrics over a Coke. She was curious and you were happy to share what you were working on, even though you hadn't made any progress. She had that reassuring aura, and talking with her was like talking to an old friend that you knew all your life. She was genuinely interested in what you had to share, and gave you some advice when she could. She also was curious to hear your voice and tried a few times to get you at the piano. You refused politely each time, feeling strangely shy.

It took you a week and a half to work up the courage to go to that piano.

The bar was rather empty, which was unusual for a Saturday night but made it easier for you to convince yourself that it was okay. You discreetly started to warm up your voice and started a version of Your Song - Penny confessed to you it was one of her favorite songs.

In a corner of the bar, by the pool table, a group of pilots were surprised to hear the piano playing at this hour. "Looks like someone stole your seat, Bradshaw," a tall blond man sneered. "Looks like it, Seresin." Bradley raised an eyebrow and leaned over to see who had taken his place at the piano. The others gently urged him to join them; after all, he was the musician among the squad. He pretended to be annoyed by their request and joined you for the last chorus. You were surprised, but smiled quietly and finished your "performance" with him. You made room for him on the little bench, and with a look of approval, you moved on to another song of his choice: Ain't no mountain higher . The patrons of the bar, who had become more numerous, were delighted to have a private mini-concert. Some of them started to dance, others joined in singing. It was a fun experience.

After the end of the song, you smiled and shook the hand of your partner of a moment and let him enjoy the piano by himself. You made your way back to your stool and asked Penny for a glass of water. You felt a presence next to you and turned a little to see who was there. You easily guessed it was a navy man ; the uniform - talk about obvious -, the perfectly styled hair. You grinned at the tall blond man in front of you.

“So, does that pretty voice have a name ?” asked Jake with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at his flirtatious tone and his pushed Texan accent. “Well yes actually, I’m-” “Y/N ?” You frowned, immediately recognizing the voice that had spoken your name. You easily spotted his surprised face among the other navy people that were close to you and Jake. "Robert?" "Don't tell me you're his girlfriend..." "What? No!" you shouted at the same time, making a few of the others giggle. "Gross!" you pretended to vomit. "She's my sister, Hangman," Bob sighed. "Twin sister, to be exact," you precised.

You couldn't help but giggle at the shocked looks on the faces of who you assumed were his colleagues. He was suddenly flooded with questions, and you enjoyed watching him turn redder and redder. Then they focused on you. "You two don't look alike at all," Reuben said, scanning you in detail. You rolled your eyes and smiled, leaning against your brother as you poked his side. "Robert took the height and brains, I took the charm and talent."

Your brother sighed and ran his hand over his neck, slightly embarrassed. His teammates were happy to meet you, especially happy to annoy Bob, and Natasha seemed to realize something. "Your voice sounds familiar... I've heard it somewhere before... in a band, right?" " Nemesis ," you smiled and nodded, mentioning your old band, "but I'm solo now. Kept the stage name though." "Quite a few scandals with that band..." your twin mumbled. You decided not to pay attention to him. Like your parents, Robert had never understood your career choice, arguing that you were brilliant at school and could have done anything else. Of course you were pretty intelligent but you had fallen in love with music as an outlet for your pain. But your family didn’t seem to accept your way of coping with your traumas.

The rest of the evening went off without a hitch. You got to know your brother's second family. They all had their own personalities, but that's what made them so endearing. Jake invited you to join them the next day, since it was their day off and they wanted to relax at the beach. You gladly accepted.

Robert didn't say much to you, the atmosphere between you was cold and tense. Natasha noticed it, so she joined her WSO to chat. "What's wrong, Bob? Your sister seems nice and yet you're here, not saying anything to her." He sighed a little as he watched you chatting and having fun with the others. "I'm worried about her," he confessed, "she… she hides herself in that personna… that Nemesis …” “Aren't all artists ? I mean, they wouldn't take a stage name otherwise.” “I guess… but I’m scared she’s losing herself…” he said softly, glancing at you. He grumbled when he noticed that Jake was flirting with you; and you didn't seem to refuse his advances either. Natasha let out a soft “damn” when Jake slid his arm around you and Bob almost jumped off his seat, mumbling an irritated “that’s it”.

You felt a strong hand gripping your wrist and you were drawn out of Jake’s embrace and out the bar. “The hell Robby ?” you scoffed once outside, “I was in the middle of a conversation !” “No you weren’t, you were flirting ! With one of my teammates !” “First off, he initiated it ! And second, in what world is that your business ? We’re grown ups, I can handle some flirting !” “Well, first off , you’re my sister and second , Hangman is… he’s not the type to settle down !” he tried to explain himself but you just rolled your eyes. “Oh my god, you sound just like dad ! Why should I settle down ? I’m having fun, I’m happy that way !” You pinched the bridge of your nose, annoyed. “Stop trying to father me, I’m doing fine since I left !” “Yeah, you seem real good in the local news,” he mumbles, putting his hands in his pockets. He didn't even look at you as he said those words. You hated it when he did that, always half-assing his thoughts. You couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh, tilting your head back. “And now you sound like mom. I can handle my life just fine Robert. I don’t need your concern, let alone your judgment ! I’ve never been better, ok ? Leave me the fuck alone !”

You were lying. You both knew that. He could read into you so easily, it made you sick. Call it ‘twin magic’ or ‘sibling intuition’, you still hated the way his blue eyes looked at you with worry and questions in them, knowing all too well that you were not fine.

You passed him, going back to the bar to get your stuff and pay Penny. Out of spit - and mostly because you wanted to - you handed your number to Jake and left with a smirk. You could hear the squad gently hassle Hangman who proudly showed off the piece of paper you gave him.

A little fun won’t kill you, would it ?

The next day, you joined the Dagger squad on the beach, near the Hard Deck.

They were playing a strange football game ; dogfight football , attack and defense at the same time, Natasha explained to you. You watched their first round and second, it seemed fun. At least, Bob seemed to have fun. You remembered he was not a teamsport guy younger. He actually hated the fact that your dad made him go to the tryouts for the football team in high school. To his misfortune, he got in. You smiled and sighed remembering those days. Sometimes, you missed the time you were close to your twin, when you could tell him everything, before it all fell apart in junior year. A cold shiver ran down your spine while you thought back about it. Your life changed so much at that time, you didn’t like to remember it.

Crouching in front of you, Jake snapped you out of your reverie. “Hey there darlin, care to join us ? We’ll be gentle, promise.” he said with a playful grin. You arched an eyebrow and sneered. “Oh please, don’t be, I can handle it.” He laughed and helped you up. You were put in his team against Natasha, Bob, Bradley and Reuben. You were - to your own surprise - pretty fast and efficient. Javy and Jake joked around saying that being stealth had to be running in the family.

You really had fun, even laughing with your brother. You didn’t know who won but you scored the last point of the game, and Jake put you on his shoulders to celebrate before tossing you in the water. “You’re a dead man, Seresin !” you shouted, before laughing. Robert helped you out the water and gave you a towel without a word. You silently thanked him and you all took a water break while deciding what to eat.

Reuben and Mickey volunteered to go get the pizzas and while they did, Natasha proposed a volleyball match. She decided that Bob and you would be in her team and you smiled. Bob couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle ; the two of you loved that sport when you were kids. When you went to your grandma's house for the holidays, you used to play against your cousins. Of course, you kicked their ass. They called you the Evil Twins. Once your heads were in the game, you were unstoppable. And Bradley, Jake and Javy would soon understand why you and Bob were so happy to be on the same team.

The two of you didn’t even need to talk to understand the next move of the other. Even Natasha didn’t really understand what was happening. You won the first, then second, then third match. You laughed at the exasperation of Jake and Javy, Bradley on the other hand was just tired of running around. He quit with Natasha, leaving Jake and Javy to find a strategy to strike Bob and you down. “Like the old times huh ?” your twin smiled, giving you a bottle of water. You returned the smile and nodded. “Let’s show them. Evil Twins ?” “Evil Twins.” He clapped his hands with yours with a grin. Oh, the other two weren't ready for the beating they were about to get.

Javy called it quits after the third set. They lost them all and he was getting tired. Jake was pouting while you jumped on your brother’s back. “Evil Twins for the win !” Natasha laughed. You giggled, while Robert ran around like a doofus, you on his back, taunting Jake. "Don't tease him too much, you know he's a sore loser!" sneered Bradley. "Nonsense!" sulked Jake, "I always accept my defeats, except they never happen.” The rest of the team rolled their eyes, both annoyed and amused.

Reuben and Mickey returned with the pizzas, and the rest of the afternoon was less athletic. Some went for a swim, others played cards in the shade of an umbrella. You chatted peacefully with Natasha and Jake, Robert never too far away. Strangely enough, you were glad he stayed close. Sometimes he would join in the conversation, but he remained Bob, preferring to watch and listen rather than talk. It was a nice afternoon, you felt like a teenager on holiday with a bunch of friends. Bradley and Javy started a water fight by grabbing Bob and throwing him in the water. You and Natasha ran at the boys to avenge him and one thing led to another and you all ended up in the water, friendly fighting each other.

The sun slowly got low, the afternoon ending peacefully. You stayed at the bar with the squad, learning more about each one, more about your brother’s ‘new’ life. They told you about their life on base and about the bird strike that Natasha and Bob had suffered from. You scolded your twin because he never told you about it. He defended himself by saying that it was not that big of a deal, but by the looks on the others' faces, you knew he lied.

Part of you was jealous of him. You both left home around the same time, and he seemed so happy now, away from your parents and their intrusive presence, away from your father's demoralizing, degrading and demotivating comments. You couldn't understand how he could be doing so well when you were struggling to find yourself, to be happy. This question echoed in your head and made you feel too much in the room. You excused yourself and went outside for some fresh air. You were pale and shaking, and anxiety was getting the better of you. You tried to ease your breathing and closed your eyes to focus on the sound of the waves in front of you. You could hear the laughter and indescribable conversations in the distance, mingled with the music and singing. It was somewhat peaceful and yet you couldn't calm the flood of painful memories that invaded your mind. Every laugh reminded you of your ex's, every burst of voice a little too loud made you cower. You didn't want to think about it anymore. You wanted to forget everything. You just wanted it to stop. It had to stop. You had to get away from it all. You had to-

“Y/N ? Are you ok ?”

Your brother's gentle voice made everything disappear. You felt yourself breathe again. But you knew it would only be temporary ; because seeing him worried would make you weak and anxious again. You took a deep, shaky breath before turning to him. You tried to hide the tremble of your voice, and put on a fake smile. "It's okay... I... I have to go home. Thanks for today, it was fun!" You passed him in a hurry, still pale and scrapie.

He sighed and bit his lip before summoning his courage. "What are you running from? You... you looked like you were fine, and then all of a sudden you're running away. " "Robby, please-" "What happened?" "Nothing, I-" "Did someone say something?" "No! I just-" "Did I say or do something wrong? Tell me!" "Then let me talk for god’s sake !" you clenched your fists then sighed. "You didn't do anything wrong, Robby. It's just that... I can't..." your voice cracked a little and you leaned your head back to hold back your tears. Bob's head tilted in concern and he stepped towards you. "Can't what? You can't do what?"

You didn't answer, shaking your head. You couldn't put into words the confusion you felt. You searched for words and began to pace back and forth. "Can't do what Y/N?" Robert insisted gently. "I... fuck... fuck."

Your voice and your whole body were shaking. It was getting harder and harder to hold back the tears. How could you tell your brother that you envied him and hated that feeling ? How could you envy him for building his life, a life filled with healthy loved ones that were there for him? How could you hold a grudge when he was the one who got you out of your abusive relationship at the risk of his acceptance into the naval academy ?

He took another step towards you, reaching for your hand, but you stepped back. "Hey, come on, tell me-" "I can't get over it, okay?! I-I can't figure out how and why you managed to grow up and I'm stuck at 17! Why do I always feel like I'm in pieces, alone, like he 's still running my life, like he 's always there, over my shoulder, no matter what I do?" "Y/N... it wasn't your fault-" "I know!!! I fucking know it wasn't my fault!!” you cut him, almost screaming, “I know he 's the one who did this to me, who pretended to love me, who beat the shit out of me and abused me every single day for months! I know all of that ! Then why am I still stuck there ? Why am I the one still struggling?! Why am I the one who feels like a complete failure ? Why can't I let it go?!" your bottom lip was trembling as tears rolled down your face. “Why can’t I just move on ? Why do I always hear dad saying ‘told you so’ or mom sighing every time I mess up ? Why don’t they ever want to talk about what happened but they urge me to just forget about it ?! Why don't they support me ? Why don’t you ?!”

You gasped, trying to catch your breath, before you whimpered and cried like a baby. Bob stood still for a moment before pulling you into his arms and hugging you. He suspected that the events of your past were still haunting you, but not to this extent. And you felt that he didn't support you... he felt like shit. How could he neglect your feelings so much, how could he act the way he blamed your parents? He let you cry against him for a long moment, swallowing his discomfort. He was the one to blame, and he had to focus on you. "I... I'm sorry, Y/N. I... I didn't realize that my behavior was hurting you… I'm just worried, and I didn't show it the right way. I'm an idiot." "A big idiot," you mumbled, sniffling. "Yes, a big idiot. And I'd really like you to let me help you. We... We have contacts with some really good therapists for post-traumatic stress and stuff... I could give you their numbers?" You just nodded, your tears finally stopping. "I'm sorry I yelled at you..." you mumbled. Bob smiled and pinched your side. "Don't be, I deserved it. I’m sorry I tried to interfere between you and Hangman…" “He’s actually a sweet guy behind his smug facade, y'know ?” you smiled and chuckled to his falsely doubtful face and the little 'meh' he let out.

As promised, Bob put you in touch with the therapists he'd told you about, and negotiated a longer return period with your agency. You had a full month and a half more. You started to really work on the singles, and your sessions with the therapist were helping. You knew you'd have to keep seeing one when you got home. But going wasn’t something you wanted to think about. As the days went by, you didn't want to leave San Diego. Your brother and the Dagger Squad were stationed here permanently, and you needed him in your life.

Him and Jake.

You always thought that the two of you were just a fling, that you or he would get tired of it and move on. But neither of you did. You spent more and more time with him, he'd crash at your Airbnb - uninvited - every now and then with a movie or dinner. The more time you spent with him, the more you fell for him and you didn't want it to end as a one-night stand, you knew that much.

As you got to dig beneath his proud, cocky, arrogant facade, you discovered a gentle man full of insecurities. He talked about his father, who was not exactly the ideal role model and the fact that he didn’t have the best of relations with him. He talked about his mama, and with the look he had in his eyes, you knew he worshiped the woman ; based on what he shared, you figured Mrs Seresin was more than strong and dedicated to her children. He told you about his sisters, both of them a couple of years older than him, and his nieces and nephews. He loved the munchkins - his terms, not yours - and you saw in his eyes how much he meant it. They were his whole world, but he’d never admit it.

You tried to take your time with him but he had a strange effect on you ; you found yourself opening up to him, faster than you thought. You'd never told anyone about your abusive relationship - except Robert. And Jake had listened to you without judgment or interruption. He sat there, ready to absorb any information you wanted and were able to share.

So you were torn between your desire to get back to the recording studio in New York, to get back to work, and your desire to stay in the peaceful everyday life you'd created in just a few weeks. You had to go back. You had obligations to keep. Maybe after you fulfilled your part of the contract, you could negotiate and come back to San Diego? This thought was the only thing that kept you working hard. You succeeded in writing three more singles than the agreed two. You were quite pleased with yourself.

And sooner than you realized, you had to go back to New York.

Natasha, with the help of the rest of the team, had organized a little surprise going-away party at the Hard Deck. Penny was in on the secret and had given them the bar to themselves. You loved the surprise and the evening was unforgettable. Bradley had insisted on karaoke, and you dragged your twin along. Robert rolled his eyes, but played along. You had the time of your life and enjoyed every second of this last night with your new friends. They made you promise to call them whenever you could, to think of them and to come back as soon as possible. They took you home and spent a few more hours with you before letting you rest. But just when you thought everyone was gone, you found Jake on the couch, waiting for you. You felt butterflies in your stomach as you saw him there, his eyes anchored in yours. You detailed his face, as if to remember it after you'd left; his slightly wavy blond hair, those beautiful green eyes, his perfect jawline, his cocky smile. That damn smile that made you weak in the knees like a teenager. God, you hated that smile as much as you loved it.

"Enjoying the view?"

You didn't realize that he had stood up and was now so close to you. A deep blush spread across your cheeks and yet you couldn't take your eyes off him, your gaze locked with his. You bit your lip and grinned. "So what if I am, big boy?" you teased. He huffed, amused, and his hand slowly reached for yours, your knuckles brushing. His other hand reached for your cheek, his thumb stroking it tenderly. You leaned into his touch, feeling yourself melt under his gaze. He said nothing, his eyes never leaving you. "What?" you whispered, your heart beating a little faster. "That's how I want to remember you." "Like what? Tipsy and tired?" you laughed a little. "Na. Happy... relaxed... you look beautiful." Jake whispered back, his cheeks taking on a rosy hue. Your stomach fluttered and you found the courage to interlock his fingers with yours. "Sounds like I have you under my siren's spell, Lieutenant..." you teased, biting your lip. "You certainly do, ma'am," he whispered again, the gap between the two of you only a few inches. You felt your confidence slip from your fingers, your eyes on his lips.

"Kiss me..."

It's an almost inaudible beg that escaped you, and you didn't even have time to be embarrassed that you felt him on your lips. The kiss was sweet, tender. You squeezed his hand into yours, and his free one slid around your waist, holding you close. You wanted the kiss to last forever. With amazing ease, Jake lifted you against him, his hands going under your thighs. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He carried you into the bedroom, his lips exploring yours, your jaw, your neck and your collarbone. Your fingers brushed through his soft hair and soon you felt your back against the mattress. Your clothes ended up chaotically thrown around the room as you undressed and kissed each other. The moon gave you just enough light to never lose sight of him. His eyes devoured you before his hands discovered your body. He asked you if you were okay every step of the way, and you never thought being asked for consent could be so arousing.

That night was the best sex you've ever had. It was slow and tender at first, and when you were both comfortable enough, it got rougher, in a good way. You fell asleep curled up against him, rocked by his heartbeat.

The next morning you woke up alone in bed. Jake left a note on the nightstand, saying he had to go to work early. "Call me when you can, have a safe flight. PS: Gonna miss you. PPS: If anything happens to you on the flight, I'll hunt the pilot." You chuckled and tucked the post-it into your notebook. You quickly got ready and Robert took you to the airport.

The ride was rather quiet, neither of you wanting to be separated again. He helped you with your luggage and waited with you until you finally had to go. You hugged him tightly and thanked him for the past weeks. "Call me when you get there, okay? And don't forget to hydrate. And eat. And..." "Ok Dad," you joked with a smile, "I'll call you, don't worry. Love you, Robby." "I love you too. Be safe."

8 months.

You have been stuck in New York for 8 long months. You did a lot though. A new album, some concerts, some interviews and photo shoots. The 'scandals' in the press disappeared and the journalists finally focused more on your songs. You video called the Daggers as much as you could - almost every day - and texted a lot with your brother, reassuring him that you continued to see a therapist and that you were doing well under the stress. But the one you called and texted the most was Jake. Every day you had a sweet good morning text, and every night you had an equally sweet good night text.

You missed him.

You missed them all, of course. But Jake Seresin was under your skin. And as hard as it was to admit, you loved him. You couldn't wait to see him again. Of course, no one knew you were together. Natasha seemed to have doubts, and sometimes Bob was somewhat suspicious too but as long as they didn’t ask you didn’t say anything.

8 months of hard work and your agent agreed to let you go to San Diego as he made an arrangement between a recording studio and your label. You told no one but Penny. You wanted to surprise the team. You had one last show to do in New York and then you would catch your flight to California.

Before the concert, you called your brother, knowing that he would probably be at the Hard Deck with the others, since it was almost 7:00 p.m there. As soon as he answered, you could hear the team around him. "Wow, look at you Nemesis! You look great!" Natasha said, smiling broadly. You laughed and thanked her when you heard the other whistle and complimented you. "Not too stressed?" Bob asked as the others calmed down. "Well, it's the last show for at least six weeks. I’ll try to make it fun!" "Of course you will," said a voice you recognized immediately. "Hangman, you look good," you teased as you saw him appear on the screen. You noticed the slight blush on his cheeks as he spotted you in your dress and makeup. He didn't have time to reply that you had to go on stage. "Ok bye guys, gotta go, love you!" you hung up and had time to see a text message on your phone : 'You better keep that dress'. You smiled. You may have fallen in love with Jake, but you also knew you had him wrapped around your finger.

The show went smoothly, and after a celebratory dinner with your team, you went back to your soon-to-be-outdated apartment. All your things were packed and ready to go. You couldn't wait to move to San Diego. Your flight was at 3 pm in New York and you were scheduled to land in California at 6 pm. Bless the time zone difference, if you were lucky, you could get to the Hard Deck before the team and wait for them.

But since nothing ever goes exactly according to plan, your flight was an hour late. That wasn't too bad, you could still surprise them, you just had to change the way. You contacted Penny and asked her if she could manage to distract them. She agreed and gave you permission to use the back door to be more discreet when you entered. Your excitement was through the roof, you felt like a child on Christmas Day. By the time your cab reached the bar, your heart was pounding in your chest. You couldn't believe you were finally there, finally where you felt at home. But you had to be reunited with those you considered family to feel completely at home. You almost ran to the back door of the bar, re-reading the instructions Penny had sent you: she'd distract the Daggers by asking them to bring back some heavy beer packs and other beverages, and you could hide discreetly by the pool table.

The perfect plan.

You did as she said, a smile forming on your lips as you heard your friends in the distance. You were stressed, but not in an anxious way, you just couldn't wait. You picked up a pool cue to keep your hands busy. When you finally heard them coming, you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from screaming ‘surprise!’. The first person to spot you was Mickey. His eyes widened and he stopped dead in his tracks, almost tripping Reuben, Natasha and Javy. They didn't have time to grumble before Mickey pointed at you, speechless. A small laugh escaped you as they froze in front of you, one after the other. Only Jake, Bradley and Robert were missing. Bradley and your twin were chatting, a little bit behind, and you soon heard Robert's voice.

"Are you guys okay? You look like you've seen a ghost..." His voice became almost inaudible at the end of his sentence, as he realized they were all staring at you. You smiled at them and tilted your head. "Are we playing, or are you afraid of losing?" you asked with a bit of a laugh. Natasha couldn't hold back her laughter and almost ran to hug you. "It's good to see you again, Mini Floyd."

The others came right after to greet you, hugging you and sometimes lifting you off the ground. You laughed, happy to see them again. Your twin was still frozen, not believing his eyes. You scooted up to him and pinched his cheeks. "Good evening Robby, did you-" You didn't even have time to finish your sentence before he pulled you into his arms. You smiled and hugged him as tightly as you could, small tears of joy escaping from both of you. "It's good to see you," he finally said, "Missed your stupid face.” "Oh I know you did, you can't live without me dearest brother !" you chuckled. You caught up with everyone, admitting that you were on a break, but not telling them that you were here for good. You wanted everyone to be here to make that announcement but someone was missing.

You paid for your round of beers - and sparkling water for Bob - and went looking for Jake. Why wasn't he here? Penny grinned as she noticed the look on your face. "Don't worry Y/N, he's just on the phone with his sister. One of his nephews' birthdays, I think." "Thanks Pen- Wait, what are you-" "I know everything dear, he talks too much for his own good if you ask the good questions." "How did you find out?" you whispered, making sure no one was listening. "Well, it wasn't really hard. Some of your interviews or shows have been aired," she pointed at the old TV, "and the calls you made ; he just had that look in his eyes. I can tell when a man is head over heels. He certainly is."

You blinked and shook your head in disbelief. Of course she'd guessed; Penny knew the squadron like her own children. She chuckled and handed you another beer. “Go surprise him.” You smiled and nodded, heading to the front door. Your heart fluttered when you finally heard Jake’s voice. It was hushed but you could feel his smile through his soft laughter. You waited for him to end his call, still hidden by the door. You bit back a chuckle when you heard him saying goodbye to the kids with a baby voice. It was ridiculously adorable.

“Hello stranger, does that pretty voice have a name ? ”

He was a bit startled and turned to you hastily, not believing his ears. A surprised expression appeared on his face, but a flirtatious smile quickly took its place. "That's my line, baby." "Oh really? Supposed I forgot," You grinned proudly and took a step towards him, "Did ya miss me, big boy?" He grinned and grabbed your waist, sending a sweet shiver down your spine. "Not as much as you missed me." You rolled your eyes in amusement and set the beer you had brought him aside. You took a moment to just drown in his green eyes, the light of the sunset making them look surreal. How could he be so handsome ?

He was quite speechless to have you here, it made you smile. Jake was always so talkative, it was strange to have him so quiet around you. "Cat got your tongue, Seresin?" He chuckled and stroked your cheek. "Why don't you check?" You smiled and finally kissed him. You had waited 8 months for this feeling and it was just so good. His soft lips against yours, his strong hands on your waist, fingers digging lightly into your flesh. You put your hands on his neck, parted your lips to let his tongue reach for yours. One of his hands slid up to cup your cheek and you leaned into his touch as the kiss ended. "I have to admit, I missed that," he whispered with a grin, his forehead pressed gently against yours. You huffed and rolled your eyes, "Told you I had you under my spell." He laughed and kissed the nape of your neck, holding you close. You smiled and stroked his hair before stepping back. "Let's join the team before ‘Tasha gets suspicious."

You took his hand and headed inside, eager to tell your friends the big news.

You missed the atmosphere of the Hard Deck. The soft songs from the jukebox, the always nice patrons, your favorite people at the pool table or playing darts... everything was so comforting. Your smile widened when you reached the Daggers, dragging Jake with you. "Look who I found outside," you teased, "good old Hangman.” "Ah, you should have let him out," Bradley sneered, sipping his beer. “Real funny Bradshaw, I know you already missed me.”

You let the two men fight like two children and when you noticed Natasha's eyes on your hand in Jake's, you blushed a little. She grinned and whispered something to Reuben. You could read a little 'damn it !' on his lips as he frowned. "Okay guys, Javy and I won! The bet is over!" "What? No!" Bradley was outraged. He grumbled and handed Natasha a bill. "Wait a minute, what bet?" your twin asked. "Well, my dear Bob, it seems that our little Jake and your sister... are together." You blushed and wanted to hide, not knowing how your brother would react. Jake was already arguing with Javy, telling him he was a traitor for betting on it, since he had confided in him on the subject.

"Oh, I've known for a while," Robert said simply with a smile. "What?!" you huffed, letting go of your boyfriend's hand to face your twin. "What do you mean you knew?" "Well, for starters, Jake stayed with you the night before you went back to New York. And you hid the hickey he left on your neck badly. Then I got suspicious when every time we ended our video calls, he got one in the next two minutes; and he's not the most discreet when he's on the phone. But I knew it when he bought that really nice necklace and asked me, of all people, for advice. A week later you were wearing it. So yeah, I knew," he shrugged with a smile, laughing a little at your expression. "What? I just thought that neither of you were ready to tell anyone? But you seem happy so it's okay."

You were surprised. You didn't think he'd take it so well, but you weren't going to complain.

So the evening began with a secret revealed. You didn't hesitate to stay close to Jake, even ending up on his lap when the bar was full. You listened to their adventures from the last few months - at least what they were allowed to share. It was good to be with them again, to find that comfort. After Mickey bought his round, he turned to you. "Well, let's ask the burning question: how long are you staying?" "To tell you the truth... I'm not leaving. I'm moving into my little house 10 minutes from here tomorrow," you smiled. "And you didn't tell me?!" said Jake and Bob at the same time, making them blush under the laughter of the others. "I wanted to surprise you! I've got a new deal with my label, so I can stay here." "Cheers to that! To the definitive return of Y/N Nemesis Floyd," Bradley decreed, raising his beer.

You all laughed and toasted each other, happy with the news.

All was finally well.

You had finally found your place, and you wouldn't change it for the world.

#top gun maverick #top gun imagine #post movie top gun maverick #twin brother!bob floyd #robert floyd #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #natasha trace #penny benjamin #javy machado #mickey garcia #reuben fitch #pov second person #angst with a happy ending

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