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#but G will have to do this for me when we get our place so it's just that i'm the joke
thesilmarillionblog · 23 hours
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𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u
Part: 8
Click here to read the first part.
Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.
Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader
Warnings: heavy angst, hurt , language, PTSD, mention of drugs, mention of torture
Word Count: 4538
A/N: English is not my first language.
* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.
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You asked Ben again, “What did you do to those people?” while he continued to look at your furious and angered look.
He avoided watching the news and simply replied in a dry voice, “I didn't mean to hurt them. Everything happened so quickly.”
Despite your hopes that, after all this time, he would change a little, you came to the conclusion that his appearance was the only thing that had changed. He was the same guy who hurt everyone around him like they were just insects, never thinking twice about it. He remained the same merciless man who just cared about himself.
You were too ignorant to believe that it was Crimson Countess had drastically changed him, but this was simply another lie you told yourself in defense of Ben's behavior. It was just who he really was.
You talked softly while Butcher continued to watch TV, “How can you even stay the same after all the things that happened to you?”
“I killed the doctor who hurt and tortured you. You already knew; whatever I did for him, he deserved it,” he angrily said, gesturing to you as though he were doing you a favor and somehow trying to convince you.
“Should I feel like a graduate and thank you?” You questioned him bitterly, glaring at him. “You are the reason I spent decades being imprisoned and subjected to torture in vain. You are the reason I am currently homeless and the state's number two foe. How come you're still so blind and self-centered?”
Ben grumbled, “Calm down, baby,” ignoring your inquiries as he roughly grabbed the remote control out of Butcher's hand and flicked through the channels. “We can talk about things at a later time. For now, take a moment to rest.”
Ben continued to stare at the TV and shifted on the couch in an attempt to make himself more comfortable, so you replied, “Don't call me 'baby.'”
“It looks like Tony Montana is going to bed alone tonight.” With a cunning grin, Butcher attempted to reclaim the remote control from Ben's grasp. “Also, don’t be dramatic and so upset, you have a place to stay, you’re not homeless.”
“Tony Montana—who the fuck is he?” Ben muttered, pushing Butcher's hands a little too hard while refusing to give up the remote control. “I’m in charge in here. What I watch, you'll watch too.”
“Hey, you remember our deal, don't you? I'm hoping you won't back down.”
You turned to Butcher and questioned, “What deal?” with a confused gaze on your face when he suddenly started speaking in a serious and mysterious tone.
Ben stepped in immediately and shot Butcher a quick glance, saying, “It's not so important.”
“All right, there's nothing to worry about. Your teammate just promised me that he would help me kill a cunt named Homelander.”
Ben kept shooting Butcher with a deadly look as he immediately spilled the beans.
“I'm not worried about anything,” you cut Butcher off abruptly, averting Ben's tough stare. “Whatever he's up to, he's alone in this. But tell me, what’s deal about.”
“Sweetheart, I don't need your help anyway. You simply stay at home and take care of things while you chill,” Ben said in an amused way, attempting to hide his tiny sense of hurt that came from your coldness.
He didn't intend to include anything that would distress you further, but he couldn't stop remembering the times you supported and fought alongside him. He would never ask you to get involved in the Homelander situation, though, since he knows you've already been through a lot of terrible things. He was also too proud to accept your assistance.
Turning to face you, Butcher added, “You don’t have to be so ruthless. He made the deal to get help from me to save you.”
Butcher believed that, given Homelander's strength, helping him would be beneficial and that it would be great if you would just soften and offer a helping hand. Butcher knew Soldier Boy would be happy to let you fight alongside him, as he was aware that he took your suit from Legend. You were once the strongest superwoman, after all, and he would have a better chance of finally killing Homelander.
Hughie, thankfully, returned to join you with a meal in his hands before you could ask Butcher any more questions. You were so hungry that you didn't even realize it until you smelled pizza. It was all about pleasure, yet even if you starved for decades, you wouldn't die.
Hughie smiled hesitantly and said, “Sorry, I didn't ask you before ordering, but I hope you're okay with pizza.” It's likely that he was the only decent person in the room. You wondered why this person was willing to work with a man like Butcher. He gave off an air of deception.
“Of course it's okay,” you said as soon as you smelled it. You then gave him a graditude look and said, “Thanks a lot.”
Ben quickly got up, tossed the remote control in Butcher's face, and grabbed the pizza from Hughie's hands as he sat next to you before you could move. Ben stepped closer, spreading his legs a little and making contact with your thighs, but you put some distance between you two right away. You didn’t understand why he was acting like that out of the blue, but you didn’t ask anything.
None of you spoke, even though you felt Ben's gaze briefly lingering on you. Although you were unsure of what Ben truly wanted from you, you were determined to learn from your past mistakes. Therefore, it was best to clarify it for him as well.
Upon seeing Noir's visual on TV, you exclaimed in shock, “Is Noir still working for Vought?”
That was the moment you understood. Earving never came to save you. If he just wanted to, you knew he could and would find you. You could understand why he might not have wanted to take the risk of going through the same things with you if he had a legitimate reason for not saving you. You had no right to be selfish. However, you were certain that you would behave differently if he were in your place. You therefore couldn't help but feel a little let down.
Ben angrily remarked, “Of course he does,” as he watched you devour the pizza. “He wouldn't even take his shit without the permission of Vought. Fucking traitor. He didn't even give a fuck about the things you went through all those years. I had no doubts that he was going to abuse your friendship. There was always something sneaky about him.”
You couldn’t left out a small hiss as Ben started to talk about loyalty.
“All right,” you replied, casting him a piercing glance. “I got used to being betrayed.”
He aggressively exclaimed, “Don't compare me with that son of a bitch,” and launched into a self-defense tirade. “I came to save you too as soon as I was free, and I looked for you everywhere.”
“How could I ever compare you with him while I know you are worse. And yes, Ben, you're quite considerate to have searched me in the Countess' home. Many thanks for it.”
“I payed a visit to her because I knew she was most probably the one tricked you. It was nothing else.”
“Whatever,” you said back harshly. “I don’t care anyways.”
Butcher interrupted you after making a brief phone call in the kitchen, saying, “Listen here, Bonnie and Clyde. Hughie and I need to get out and meet some buddies, but if you're not going to make trouble and if you don't want to fuck in peace all night, it's best if you don't stay at home. In every other case of emergency, you need to join us.”
You hurriedly swallowed the large slice of pizza and gasped, “We won't... I mean, we wouldn't,” to Butcher. Your cheeks flushed. “It's not like we're together or anything, so don't misinterpret and talk like this, please.”
Ben leaned back to the coach and said, “Well, I'm all in, baby,” pleased to see you flushed and in a panic. “Keep in mind that. Since I'm free, I didn't even fucking jerk off once. You can use me however you like,” he stated, stretching his legs and making an attempt to brush against you briefly while grinning genuinely and invitingly.
You grumbled, “I'm trying to enjoy my meal here,” ignoring the absolute filth that was flowing from his mouth.
“All right, that's OK.” Butcher urged you to complete your dinner, saying, “You can continue eating where we go. We must leave in five minutes.”
Ben growled, “Don't fucking order her around.”
“It's fine,” you stopped eating right away. “Where we're going to go?”
“We have to get some Temp-V from Hughie's friend. It appears that we will need to use it soon,” Butcher replied, glancing at Ben. “Unfortunately, you can't beat Homeland with just one guy.”
Ben did not even respond to Butcher's crap; he only rolled his eyes. He was aware that Homelander would be the easiest to take down. He was Soldier Boy, and someone of Butcher's age wouldn't fully get who he was.
You and Ben were seated in the back of Butcher's car, and Ben was covering the whole place almost as if he wanted you to lean into his body. He was always on the move, both his hands and his legs, and occasionally you would think he looked a bit bashful if you didn't know just how arrogant he really was. Somehow, you sensed the uncertainty, but you didn't look him up or ask him questions.
You couldn't help but feel confused and depressed as you gazed out of the car window at the enormous, gleaming structures. You no longer felt like you belonged in the world because so many years had passed in a tiny little cage. It seemed as though no one knew you, cared about you, or you had no place to stay. It's not your world, but rather other people's, that you see when you peek out the window.
You said, “Everything looks so different,” as a sense of melancholy took over you.
“Not at all,” Ben remarked in an arrogant tone, as if he had figured out everything in a single day. “I've learned many things; I will teach you all; don't worry.”
You challenged him, casting him a skeptical glance. “What do you know?”
“Well, I might teach you a thing or two because you're too eager to learn. For instance, GPS and the Internet were quite helpful in helping us learn about you and the place you were kept,” he added with pride as he smiled at you and waited for your reaction.
You whispered, “You're just making those words up,” unsure if he was trying to trick you.
“Those words are real words. I had said the same to that fuckface; believe me, sweetheart,” he continued, giving Hughie a harsh shoulder pat. “Hand over your damn android phone to me.”
Hughie murmured in distress, “Oh, God,” as Butcher nodded awkwardly and gave him an odd look. “Just don’t break it or something, please.”
Hughie handed his phone reluctantly to Ben, who took it with a swift move, and Ben used it like a pro, tapping the screen quickly. When he wrote down his name and yours on the screen called 'Google', your eyes widened open as you saw a ton of images and details about the two of you, Payback, and everything else.
Captivated by what Ben showed you, you muttered, “Everything about us is written down there.”
“See,” he declared with pride, chuckling at your bewildered response. “I told you I was very well-informed. The name of this one is Internet.”
You challenged him again, interested in learning more about this small device, which seemed to know a lot of things. The modern world is unquestionably something else, with easy access to knowledge at any time and about any subject matter.
“I am familiar with social media. If you don't want to be identified by your real identity, you can put up a fake profile and follow anybody you want. I made one for the two of us as well.” Ben responded, seeming proud of everything he had achieved with a cunning smile on his face.
You pretended to understand everything he said as you asked, “And what's your fake name?”
“It’s ‘soldierboyy/n69.' Pretty creative, isn't it?”
“Oh my gosh, Ben,” you said, pushing the phone and his hands in an annoyed tone as your face turned red. “Everyone will know that it is you. I shall be accused of having once again supported your actions if they find out the identity of your account. Why do you act so carelessly?”
“Everyone has those fake names,” Ben said, grimacing at how much you disapproved of what he had done. Nobody will find out because I'm not using it anyway."
He intended to show you that he never thought of himself apart from you and that he thought of you even while he was setting up the account, but all he managed was to distress and upset you once more. Observing your defensively crossed arms on your chest, he sighed and moved his strong arms to your seat in an attempt to get close to you.
“How are you so sure?” you asked as he handed over the phone to Hughie in a rude manner.
“Because that's the way the modern world works, sweetheart. Nothing and anyone are real when it comes to Internet.”
“Indeed,” Butcher said, glancing at the two of you through the mirror. “He is right; no one will find out. It's not really a big deal; trust me, if it were, I would have problems as well because of him.”
You cut it short, closing your eyes and lowering your head to the seat. “Okay,” you mumbled.
It was as though some odd numbness overcame your body, leaving you exhausted and unbalanced even after decades of sleep. It was most likely due to the quantity of sleep that your body became accustomed to, and it's also possible that you were experiencing a side effect from what you experienced in the lab. Nonetheless, it didn't concern you because you knew you still had your strength. You only needed to get a bit more rest. As you closed your eyes to give your body a break until you got there, you inhaled deeply.
You slowly opened your eyes, feeling Ben's gentle touch on your cheek, and heard him say, “You really turned into sleeping beauty, didn't you?” in a lighthearted manner.
“Have we arrived?” you muttered as you opened your eyes and noticed his intense gaze on you. The moment Butcher and Hughie slammed the car door, you immediately fully came to your senses.
Ben nodded, confused, not knowing how to react to your coldness as you gently moved his hands away from your face.
Ben and you had just followed Butcher and Hughie to the small, slightly desolate house. You looked around the room, and the other two women, who were glancing at you warily, exchanged glances. You could tell they were supes, just like you, from the whiff of Comp-V in their scents. You were a little nervous because you had no idea what their intentions were toward you. You had no friends or someone to rely on anymore, and you were a stranger to everything after all.
“Ladies, how are you doing here?” Butcher grabbed a glass of whiskey from the kitchen and inquired as he sat down right away on the closest couch.
“I can't believe you and you especially you Hughie,” the blonde remarked angrily. “You two really set them both free, and you forced me to take so much Temp-V; we're going to be caught. It's only a matter of time.”
“So you're the supe woman that bottom-faced guy pounding?” Ben aggressively exclaimed, pushing the short-haired man to the right while he snatched a cola from the refrigerator. “And the one who works for Vought when you're not getting off and doing other things.”
“Stop it, Ben,” you said in a warned tone as his abrupt aggression caused the air to thicken.
“Why don't we just sit down and have a nice chat?” Hughie looked at you anxiously, as if you wanted to soothe Ben before anything happened.
“Relax, sweetheart,” he said, flashing you a cunning grin when he spotted you approaching him, and you gave him a cold look while he sipped his coke in joy.
“Well, Annie, that it wasn't in vain. Soldier Boy and I struck very useful bargain, didn't we?” Butcher inquired, glancing back to Ben with a sly smile. “We're going to kill Homelander together.”
You felt uneasy, and your thoughts turned to the Homelander once again. Even if you didn't care about Ben at all, you couldn't help but feel concerned because you were both strangers to Vought and the outside world now that Ben had gotten into so much trouble. Not only did you not want to return to the lab, but you also didn't want Ben to go through the same painful experiences. Even though he had been vile to you, you didn't want him to suffer forever in Russia.
Annie replied, “You should have told me, Hughie,” casting a disappointed glare at her boyfriend. “You’re so acting strangely these days.”
Hughie insecurely responded, “I know, I know,” rubbing her cheeks. “And I’m really sorry for it. It won’t happen again.”
The man with short hair said, “You all know that they both are being searched by the government, right?”
Butcher shot back, “Of course we all fucking know that, Frenchie.”
Annie looked at you and said, “Well, I guess Y/N's situation is worse,” while you stood by Ben, watching him carefully to make sure he didn't suddenly lose his temper and start some serious drama. “Well, she's a known traitor after all.”
You immediately defended yourself by saying, “I'm not a traitor,” and you were enraged at her haughty demeanor. Despite her lack of knowledge, she was constantly talking about things she had no idea about. “Vought only spread lies and caused us pain in order to build up the next generation, which is your generation. They tortured me for years just because I wanted to quit.”
Annie's expression softened as she realized that Vought would do something like that and that she was having trouble as well in Seven. She then apologized to you by looking at you and sincerely saying, “I'm sorry to hear that.”
She went on, making an effort to get you to see how complicated the situation was, saying, “But you need to understand that no one will believe you. For all this time, you have been regarded as a spy for the entire world. The same remains for Soldier Boy.”
“What is your point?” Ben cut her off with a harsh voice.
Ben was becoming mad at those morons; they were just some stupid kids who liked to order other kids around, but he was a man, a true leader, the strongest supe to live, and they had no idea what him and you had been through or who had been in charge decades earlier. He was already becoming a little tense about that blonde's cunning ideas, so he realized he had to proceed with caution going forward. He had to watch out for you too, in order to keep you safe.
With defensive hands on her hips, Annie retorted, “The thing is, it's best if you don't see each other for a while. I can help you spend a week in various secure locations, separated.”
Ben abruptly tensed up, enraged that the blonde had already made plans in her cunning mind to keep him away from you. “No fucking way,” he said. He was certain that those fucked-brains would propose something so incredibly moronic.
Even if it made sense, you realized those new guys weren't to be trusted as they were strangers. It was true that you needed some alone time apart from Ben, but for the time being, it was preferable to ignore what you’re told.
“Everyone is talking about what happened in New York and Ohio,” Annie said furiously. “I’m just asking you two be hidden for a week. Everything’s already complicated in Vought and I have my own problems.”
“Look, sneaky woman,” Ben hissed, “I don’t give fuck about your problems or anything at all. If you ever suggest such thing, you won’t have a head to think such idiotic things anymore. I’m warning you.”
“Ben, you need to calm down,” you said. You scowled at the feeling that his chest was unusually heated compared to normal. 
Frenchie agreed, saying, “Y/N is right; there is no need to fight each other.” The supe woman next to him smiled and patted his shoulders.
Butcher responded, “Annie is right too, though,” as he examined the Temp-V carefully on his lap. “Too much attention has been paid to Soldier Boy during the past three days. We are also doomed if he is seen soon enough.”
“They could be right,” you acknowledged, nodding to Butcher, understanding that his points were reasonable. Since you and Ben were currently the state's number one and two foes, you also didn't want to get into any sort of trouble.
Ben cursed, “Fuck that,” and he gave Butcher a menacing stare. He got offended at the fact that you instantly agreed with them but not with him. “I didn't realize I had done business with so many jerks. If you're that afraid of what's ahead, I might accept your suggestion, but Y/N is staying with me.”
“Calm down, buddy. Why are you so obsessed?” Butcher questioned, putting the bag down from his lap.
When you realized Ben was about to start an argument without reason, you asked him, “Why are you being like this?” in an irritated tone.
“Are you saying that you're prepared to follow those fuckfaces' instructions?” While you could tell he was angry, he inquired quietly, “What's wrong with you?”
Ben set down the coke and paid no attention to Butcher's irritating remarks. Instead, his attention was drawn to you. The fact that you didn't trust him but did trust the new people you had met most disturbed him. It was not them who saved you, but it was him who considered your safety and future. Still, you were ready to follow what they had to say. You'd been away from each other for a long time, so there was no reason to spend another minute separately.
“I'm not saying anything, Ben. I just want you to quit being irrationally dissatisfied and to be reasonable.”
Butcher sighed as he watched you start to debate, but Annie grasped Hughie's arm and guided him to another room to have a conversation.
Ben stated, “I'm not getting angry for no reason,” while attempting to stay controlled.
Despite Ben was desperate to touch you, he restrained himself since he knew that you two needed to have discussed the situation before acting on it. How in the world was he supposed to talk to you properly after a week apart? “I'm just saying, we don't have to spend a week alone and separated,” Ben said with a low voice.
Your eyes wandered around everywhere except for him.
“I'm not sure, Ben,” you teased him, feeling hesitant about his response. “Maybe we should.”
“How can you be sure that those people won't imprison you to a metal box once more? Do you really want to go back to that lab? You're saying you have faith in them, but not in me?”
You angrily gasped, “Don't you ever talk to me about trust. I would never make the same mistake by trusting you again.”
He tried to calm himself down, saying, “I'm the only one who saved you,” but the heat inside his chest kept growing.
“Will you stop arguing?” Butcher got up and asked, watching Ben trap you against the kitchen table while grinning at Ben and sipping his whiskey. “She obviously wants to be by herself for a while. Would you please just accept her decision and let her to enjoy herself?”
Ben angrily remarked, “Mind your fucking own business; we are fucking having a conversation here.”
You stopped disputing with him and cast a puzzled glance at his chest as soon as you felt the warmth in his chest increasing once more.
Butcher said, “It's like you're forcing her for something she doesn't want to though. Don't be such a drama queen,” ignoring Frenchie's warnings. “She might just want to spend time alone in a nice place and fuck with some hot dudes, savor the time she missed all those years.”
Ben snarled, turning to face Butcher and ignoring you this time. “Watch your fucking language," he growled. “If you say one more word, I fucking swear I'll rip your heads off.”
Ben's chest began to glow suddenly before he could finish his sentence, and your eyes widened, sensing the anxiety and the heat coming from his body.
“Ben,” you whispered quietly, uneasy with his rage and the anguish on his face, as if he tried to maintain self-control.
With an expression of fright on his face, Frenchie and the supe woman next to him also retreated a step. “Calm down, buddy,” Butcher muttered. “Let's not cause another accident. You've already done enough damage, huh. ”
But Ben's chest continued to glow, alerting you. “Hey, what's wrong with you?” you asked as you walked up to him, stroking his arms and then his face and making him to look at you.
He snarled, “I can't hold it,” and shoved your hands away right away. “Stay away from me.”
Instead of following commands, you remained in the same spot and continued to massage his upper arms in an effort to soothe him though you got extremely anxious. Then, in the hopes of calming him down a little, you put your hands on his burning, hot chest. Even if there was smoke slightly arising from his body, your hands felt chilly.
You whispered, “It's okay,” feeling his temperature drop beneath your fingertips gradually.
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿
A/N: Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! -`♡´-
Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @xmariakx @spnfamily-j2 @suspicious-stain-in-spain @atomicsoulcollecto @yvonneeeee @starryperson @mfnqueen1 @chaand-sitara @boywivlove @stilinskisthings @brynanna @delaynadee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @yoyoanaria @n-o-p-e-never @ghostslillady @certifiedhaters @deans-spinster-witch @demodemo909 @stoneyggirl @cheynovak @libby99hb @moneyburner
Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series. -`♡´-
56 notes · View notes
lazylittledragon · 6 months
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What does the note on the wall in that one panel say?
it's a gentle reminder
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391 notes · View notes
skeletalheartattack · 2 years
Note
its a bit antiquated but you could always hack your wii with the twilight princess method if it's old enough!
sadly i'm not exactly knowledgeable enough to know what that means!
we bought our wii on february 18th of 2009, which i figured out by looking at the inbox thing and just going back several years. it's up to the most recent update that every tutorial ive watched mentions it needing to be, so im not sure if that changes anything.
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gojonanami · 5 months
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❝ 𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃 ❞
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❝ EVERYONE WANTS SATORU GOJO, SO WHY ARE YOU THE ONE STUCK GUARDING HIM ? ❞
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✧ pairing: rich boy! gojo x bodyguard! reader
✧ summary: after the gojo family receives threats to their lives, you're hired to protect the heir to the company, satoru gojo - you just didn't realize how charming the rich heir would be - and just how hard it would be to resist his advances.
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, reader is around the same age as gojo (both in their 20s but age is vague), virgin! gojo, switch! gojo, oral (f + m), handjob (m), dry humping, fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), depictions of violence, mentions of yakuza, dirty business dealings, gojo's made up dad and suguru make an appearance
✧ wc: 15,311 (i don't know what to say at this point)
✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 1 has been sold to @forest-hashira and two anons!
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“So, is this your first time?”
Satoru Gojo would be the end of you — one way or another. 
One way would be you sacrificing your life to protect him — fairly run of the mill when it came to guarding someone, the risk of putting your life on the line, though the chance of death usually was fairly slim. You had only come close — twice. 
You didn’t care to make it a third. 
The other, increasingly more likely, way was that you would lose your mind to his incessant yammering before you even had a chance to neutralize any threat to his life. 
You nearly spit out your drink at the question, wiping your mouth with a napkin, before managin to choke it down, “Excuse me?” 
And his lips annoyingly curl, “Your first time guarding someone,” 
The heir seemed fairly nonchalant, even after his father had sat the both of you down in a room filled with more security agents than the prime minister of Japan himself had, and had lectured him about the importance of staying with you the entire time and to respect your authority — well one out of two wasn’t bad. He’s eating a piece of cake instead of a meal, his fork digging into the back of the cake again and again, toying with his food as he did with you, “I mean, you seem fairly young, but old enough to be entrusted with my safety,” 
“Well, since you insisted on going to school, your father needed someone unassuming who looked around your age,” you lean against your hand, your other drumming against the table, as your eyes scanned the area — table of frat boys, group of girls sneaking glances at Gojo, various other students, no real threats — unless you counted the girls’ death daggers towards you, “someone who wouldn’t look out of place with you, raise any suspicions, but who could still protect you,” 
His lips curl, as your eyes find their way back to the young heir, “So basically, you had to look like my girlfriend — shouldn’t I hold your hand? Sell the act? All in the name of my safety,” 
You jerk your head towards his group of admirers, “I think what we’re doing now is plenty — unless you’d like your guard to get mauled by a bunch of hormonal college girls,” 
His eyes slid to his adoring fans, as he pities them with a wave, erupting squeals from them, “I think you could take them,”
“How flattering,” you reply drily, picking at the food in front of you, “now finish your lunch so we can get to our next class on time,” 
“Are you still upset that we were late this morning?” 
“No, I’m upset that we missed half the class and I had to take the fall for it,” the heir had oh so kindly told the professor that you had made them run late (even though he was the one who spent far too long in the bathroom). 
And even though you wouldn’t be attending this school for long, you hoped that you wouldn’t have to make yourself look like a fool the entire time you were here — but — your eyes found Gojo’s again — sticking with Satoru Gojo almost made that a guarantee that you would look like a fool — one way or another. 
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And you were already the fool — for thinking that a college aged boy would have any real food in his refrigerator. Although, Satoru Gojo was a different breed — instead of alcohol and questionable containers of takeout, there was...sweets. 
So. Many. Sweets.
Not just cookies and candy — but literally six different kinds of mochi (for some reason?) and almost any pastry you could possibly think of was stocked in the house. And the freezer was more of the same — seven different containers of ice cream and one aged bag of edamame stuck in the back. 
“Gojo?” you stare into the open refrigerator, while Gojo lays back on his couch, scrolling on his phone mindlessly. 
“Yeah?” 
“Do you have any food?” 
“What do you mean? The refrigerator is full of food?” and his voice is thick with genuine confusion and you’re almost wondering how this man survived to this age. 
Oh yeah, he’s rich. 
You sigh, closing the refrigerator doors, and striding over to him, only to snatch his phone out of his hands, “Sweets are not real food — how do you eat like this and function?” 
He only shrugs, lips curled into a grin, “I’m just built different,” 
“You mean like a person who won’t make it to age fifty?” you toss his phone back at him, “get up,” you grab your sweatshirt hanging by the door and throw his jacket at him. He barely catches it, as he sits up, his face displeased with your sudden need to get him up. 
“Where are we going?” 
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“So,” Gojo says, his hands in his pockets, as you both walk the aisles of the grocery store, “why did I have to come with you?” 
“Because I’m going to show you how to actually shop for groceries, so you don’t have a heart attack and die before my stint with you is up,” you grab essentials and basics — oil, rice, cereal, pasta, spices, flour, sugar (although did he really need sugar with the amount he was already consuming?), “you know it would suck if my client died before we eliminated the other threats on his life,” before you add with a smile, “though I think your eating habits are more likely to kill you,” 
“You know men really hate sarcastic women,” he bites back, before something catches his eye in the aisle and he places it in the cart, “major turn off,” 
“Well, mission accomplished then,” you roll your eyes, as you look back at the cart to see a box of cookies, “you know when I said you were a moron, I was half kidding, but now,” you lift up the box of cookies, “you have a million cookies at home,” 
He pouts — why do you feel like a mother refusing their child their candy at checkout? — “Not these ones,” you take the box and put it back on the shelf where it belonged, and he relents. 
“Did you eat like this before college?” 
He shook his head, “My meals were prepared for me by the chef at my home, I never really had much of a say in what I ate, or anything really,” and you shake your head, “my father wasn’t really the type to let me handle anything on my own — thus the need for a babysitter,” 
You nod, “So no one really taught you how to take care of yourself?” and he shakes his head. 
“Guess not, but I guess no time like the present to learn,” he examines the box of baking powder you had just placed in the cart, “like what this is,” and you snort, taking the box from him and placing it back in the cart. 
“Maybe by the end of this trip, we’ll have you making it past the age of forty,” 
He raises an eyebrow, “I thought you said fifty?” 
“The cookies made me lose more faith in you,” 
The two of you continue to shop, as you help him pick out vegetables, meat, and other necessities for the house. You separate the things for you and for him meticulously, as the two of you head over to the checkout, and he’s placing everything on the conveyor belt together, including your own things, “No wait, those are mine—” 
“Consider it payment,” he stops you, as you continue to try to argue, but he’s only blocking you from the conveyor belt with a raised arm, a real smile on his lips, “just let me do this for you,” And you can’t find any words, so your mouth shuts, and you nod — as you watch him speak with the older cashier with his patented charm. 
And the cashier stops you right as you’re leaving, whispering, “That’s a good one, don’t let him go, ok?” and you pause, her words sinking in as blood rushes to your cheeks. 
“We’re not—” 
“I know,” the older woman chuckles far too knowingly, as she hands you the receipt, “but you never know.” 
“You coming?” Gojo calls, turning to look back at you, as he pushes the cart of groceries, and you look from the cashier to him, before fleeing with a quick ‘thank you.’ 
And as you go home, you glance at Gojo, maybe there was more to him than you initially thought. 
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“This is so boooooring,” Gojo’s whining for, what you assume is, the billionth time, “I hate philosophy, moral arguments? It’s such bullshit,” 
“You know philosophy is literally a subject that encompasses everything right?” you tilt your head watching him lay on the floor as the two of you sit at the table, his head right next to you, as you sit cross legged, “there’s no avoiding it in life,” 
“Well can’t I avoid it in school at least? Because college feels very different from real life,” and you roll your eyes, flicking him between the eyes. 
“Just write your paper, I already finished mine,” and he perks up. 
And he slides his laptop over to you, “Then you can write mine,” 
“That’s not happening,” and he groans again, “you know if you spent all the time that you whined working on your paper then you’d be done,” 
“Were you this much of a buzzkill when you were in college?” Gojo stares at you, “what do you even do for fun?” 
“Why is this relevant to you writing your paper?” 
“Why is writing my paper relevant to protecting my life?” and you open and close your mouth, “c’mon give me something, anything,” 
“How about this — when you finish a page, I’ll answer a question, any question,” you offer, and he grins, as he sits up and begins to type away at his laptop. 
You sit back, lying back and using your phone, until about fifteen minutes later when he’s holding his laptop up, showing you that he completed a page, “That fast?” you’re skeptical, and then you grab his laptop, skimming the page, wondering if he was trying to trick you — he wasn’t. It was good, more than good — it was a wonderful discussion of deontological ethics. 
“How did you finish this so fast?” you raise an eyebrow, “you complain so much, but you wrote this page far too quickly,” 
He shrugs, “I’m good at everything, sweetheart,” and you roll your eyes, “jealous?”
“Totally,” you scoff, before grinning,  “so get back to work,” and he gapes at you, before groaning dramatically, lying back on the floor again. 
“Ugh, this is too much work,” he whines again, “I don’t know why I had to take this stupid class,” he grumbles. 
“Then why did you?” you scroll through your phone, checking for any new alerts or updates from his father or any other member of the security team, “you have a choice in what classes you sign up for, don’t you?” 
And for one of the first times, you saw Satoru’s playfulness ebb away, replaced with almost a bitterness — as bitter as his words were usually sweet, “Maybe most college kids do, but I don’t have a choice in most of the things I do, including the classes I pick,” 
You tilt your head, “Your father?” And he nods, “did you even choose your major?” 
His eyes drift to the ceiling, “Is it a choice when your father tells you you’re either being groomed to run his company when you graduate or he’s not paying for you to go to school at all?” 
“No, it isn’t,” you admit, “but it could be worse, he could have stuck you with a glorified babysitter on top of it,” 
He cracks a smile, “I don’t know, maybe I have a thing for babysitters,” and you roll your eyes, cracking a smile. 
“Get back to work.” 
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“Fuck,” Satoru muttered, watching the rain come down as he waited outside the university awning of the building he had just finished his class in. You had left him to go to class by himself — you trusted him enough not to get murdered while in class and on the walk back (high praise) — and said you’d likely just meet him back at the apartment. But now, he didn’t know how he’d get home without getting soaked. 
He checks his phone for any rideshares nearby, but there were none. And he would rather go drown in the rain than call his father’s driver, and guarantee a lecture about being prepared for “any given situation.” 
Shit. Maybe he would just risk walking. 
So he did. The rain soaked through his clothes all too quick, the wet fabric clinging to his skin, and the cold leeching the warmth from his body. And he couldn’t help but think if you were with him, you would have remembered to bring an umbrella. 
Weird, when did he ever really rely on anyone else? 
Yes, his father had maids, cooks, and personal shoppers when he was growing up — but they weren’t people he relied on — he did, but it was expected. It was their job. And yes, he was a job for you too — but…it was different. 
Satoru didn’t know when it happened but he had gotten used to your presence in his life. Whether it was at home or in class, you were always there. And it wasn’t as annoying as he thought it would be. It was…nice to have someone there to lean on. But, as he glanced up at the storm clouds, holding a hand above his eyes — rolling dark clouds with no signs of the rain letting up — this would be his reality once the threats were a distant memory. 
“Gojo!” He blinks, his eyes snapping forward, and he sees someone coming over the horizon. 
It was you — umbrella in hand, as your footsteps echoed with the splashes of water from the rain that collected on the ground. And you found your way to him, holding the umbrella over his head. He stared at you as you grew closer, wondering if you were real. And he wasn’t surprised you found him —
“How did you know?” He asks when you stand, catching your breath, short pants, as your eyes flicker up to his. 
“You always forget your umbrella, so I figured you needed one,” you shrugged, “plus I finished my meeting early so I came to get you,” and he only stares at you, “what?” 
And he only shakes his head, as he takes the umbrella from your hand, fingers brushing, as he holds it up over the both of you, your shoulders brushing as you begin to walk home. And he found himself wishing for a split second that the threats would never stop. 
“Just wondering if it’s in your job description to protect me from colds too,” and you snort, lips curling into the same smile he loved to see. 
“With you? It is.” 
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“A party?” 
“Yes, known as a gathering of people where—” 
“I don’t need you to define the word,” you grit your teeth, as you watch him pull out shirts from his closet, holding them up, before shrugging, “do you know the kind of danger you could put yourself in by going?” 
“I know, the party might go into a frenzy at the sight of me, think of all the students who’d glare at you then,” he grins, as he finally settles on an outfit — charcoal gray shirt and a blue button down, “might have to call another bodyguard to guard you instead, princess,” 
“Aren’t you the princess if you’re the one being guarded?” you bite back, and he only laughs, hands in his pockets, “Gojo, you have serious threats that have been levied—” 
“Against my father—” 
“And you, the heir to your father’s company,” you cut him off, crossing your arms, “are you seriously going to risk our lives because you want to get drunk and fuck around with a bunch of idiots?” 
The answer was yes, of course. 
And now here you were, stuck babysitting this spoiled heir at a party. You hadn’t really been to any parties — hadn’t bothered to. You had gotten through college at a young age, perks of skipping a few grades, and you ended up in the family business regardless — so you didn’t bother to party much. Not when you had things to accomplish — babysitting a drunk heir wasn’t one of them. 
It has started as you expected. Gojo had flitted away from your side the first moment he got, disappearing into the throng of horny and drunk college students. You wove your way through the crowd, careful not to trip over the students making out, dancing, or drinking on nearly any available surface. The smell of beer and cheap cologne wafted through this dorm. And you had almost given up on finding him when you spotted him stuck to the sides of three girls, all of them far too eager to hang off his every word. 
You sighed, this was going to be a long night. 
“You one of Satoru’s girlfriends?” you glance to your side and see Suguru Geto in person. You had learned all about Satoru Gojo and the people he hung around. Like those three girls — one of them had a long distance boyfriend, the other had a cheating situationship she was trying to make jealous, and the other just wanted to fuck him for the experience. Suguru Geto was one of the only friends of Gojo you had liked from what you had read about him — humble background, on scholarship at the college, but one of the best students here — and a philosophy student of all things, the very subject his best friend hated. 
You want to say no, but unfortunately, you have no idea what the idiot has been saying to other people, “Something like that,” you sip at your drink to make the bitter words slide down, “why? Are you?” 
A chuckle slips past his lips, as he takes a swig of his drink, “Well I already like you better than the others. You have a sense of humor and seemingly more than two brain cells,” 
“Don’t give me too much credit,” you snorted, leaning against a wall, “I did end up here after all,”
“Fair enough, how’d he convince you to come?” And you shake your head — good question. What choice did you really have? You could have let him go alone, but probably not a good look 
“I don’t even know honestly, feel like I’ve been dragged here to make sure he doesn’t do something stupid,” you glance at him and the gaggle of girls, “though maybe I already fucking failed at that,” 
Geto shrugs, as his gaze slips from Gojo to you, “I mean until he sticks his tongue down one of their throats, I think you’re doing pretty well,” 
You laugh, “Good to know,” and you both continue to chat, and unbeknowst to you, while your focus is torn away from Gojo, his attention is fully on you. 
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If looks could kill, Satoru imagined his crystal eyes were nothing more than daggers ready to strike, as he watches you and Suguru talk. 
It was his fucking idea to come to this party, so why were you having more fun than he was?
He swirled his drink miserably — he had barely taken a sip of the beer poured for him — why would he when it tasted like piss? He didn’t understand why people liked to drink — especially when they could eat mochi instead — but now, as he stares at you and Suguru, maybe he was starting to understand. 
He can’t hear what either of you are saying over the blaring music and the chatter of students surrounding him, but he can see the smile on your lips and the laugh that left them. 
Why the fuck do you look so happy to talk to Suguru? 
You seemed so bored when he was with you—and did you just fucking laugh again at something Suguru said? 
The crinkle of plastic and the distinct feeling of a spill made his gaze snap to his hand — he just crushed his plastic drink cup. He sighed, as he simply placed it among the other abandoned drink cups on a nearby table, before wiping off his hand with a napkin. 
Why did he even care? You were nothing but a nuisance anyway. All you did was follow him around, make him go to class on time, make sure he was safe, care about his well-being— 
What the fuck was he thinking? 
His eyes couldn’t help but slide back to you as he tried to enjoy the girls' company, their slight touches and soft pouts and sweet words not going unnoticed by him. But that was how it always was. Once people found out he was rich, people wanted to be his friend, they wanted to date him, they wanted him — but not really him, they wanted his money. 
First world problems, right? 
But you — you hadn’t been like that. You were irritatingly punctual, unfazed by his money, didn’t care in the slightest about his father or who he was — you just wanted to do your job. And he was your job, for the time being. 
And now he got to see you smile — your lips perfectly curled in a smile that both he wanted to see all the time and grated on his nerves — but you were smiling at someone else. And Suguru no less. 
“C’mon Satoru, you gonna make eyes at your boyfriend all night?” Aiko said, nudging him teasingly, her words far too slurred. 
“Help us finish these shots,” Yumiko whines, as she offers him a shot, urging it into his hands. 
He’s grimacing, he hates alcohol — he hates how he feels during and after; he hates the disgusting, metallic taste; and if it couldn’t get worse, he’s a lightweight. He stares at the shot. 
“It’s just one shot,” Misaki grins, holding up her own, clinking hers to his, “you’re already three shots behind everyone else,” 
And he’s about to open his mouth to refuse — make up an excuse of having to wake up early or stomach being unsettled — and that’s when you catch his attention. You were laughing now, a noise far too pretty for his liking, as you shoved Suguru’s chest playfully. 
Fuck it. 
He downs the shot, the liquid searing down his throat, dragging down until it settles in a burning pool in his stomach. Finally he tears his gaze away as the girls offer him another shot — as you grin at Suguru — this was going to be a long night. 
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“Hey,” Geto jerks his head, “you might want to deal with that,” 
You whip your head around. 
“Oh what the—“ 
Gojo was hanging all over the girls he was with, barely able to stand on his two feet, as he swayed from side to side — his cheeks glowed with the telltale glow that told everyone he had been drinking (if that wasn’t obvious by literally everything else). 
Fuck. 
You had kept an eye on him. You swore he had only taken two shots of alcohol, how was he this drunk already? You examine and sniff the two shot glasses he used — no peculiar smell or residue — you run through the gamut of tests you could do on hand and conclude two things: 1) Gojo wasn't drugged and 2) he was a lightweight. 
But that didn’t stop him from acting like he wasn’t, as girls egged him on to take more shots, and from the way they were eyeing him, their intentions were anything but pure. 
You sigh, walking over, slipping past a drunk couple making out, a person passed out and sleeping on the floor, and a cluster of cheering onlookers as a student chugged what you can only assume was a disgusting concoction of alcohol. 
Until you finally reached his side. 
“I think you’ve had enough, isn’t that right, Satoru?” And he’s blinking at you, before he’s grinning, slurring your name.
“You’re no fun,” and he’s clinging all over you, his hands curled around your waist, “such a buzzkill, don’t even like to have any fun with me,” 
“Looks like you had too much fun without me,” you murmur, your arm slinks around the middle of his back, “let’s get you back to your dorm,” 
“Hey he’s fine, he’s having fun with us,” Aiko glared at you, a hiccup leaving her lips, “don’t go crashing our good time because he’s not interested in you,” 
“Yeah why don’t you go hang out with Geto or whatever? We’ll take good care of him. C’mon Toru, let’s go to my place in Shibuya, I have a huge house there,” Yumiko says, barely coherent, and you raise your eyebrows at the nickname, as she leans in to whisper, alcohol wafting off her breath, as she lifts up her middle finger, “fuck off,” 
Honestly the only reason you can understand the gist of what she meant was because of her middle finger. Their other friend is passed out on the couch. 
“I don’t think any of you can even care for yourselves,” you scoff, and Satoru is hanging all over you already, mumbling words you can’t make out in your ear, “I’m taking him home, you should take your friend home,” 
“Geto, wanna help me out?” And Geto nods, trying to take Gojo other arm, but Gojo pushes him away, instead clinging to you, you stumble a moment before catching both of you, “Gojo—“ 
“No, wanna go home with just you,” he’s officially whining, and you’re having flashbacks to the summer you spent babysitting, but — you look at the drunk white porcupine clinging to you — somehow this idiot is worse than the kid. 
You sigh, “Geto, make sure that girl gets home safe,” you gesture to the one passed out on the couch, “I’m going to deal with this one,” 
Geto stares at the two of you, the far too tall Satoru hunched over onto your body, “Can you—“ 
But you’re already walking away, able to drag Gojo away with relative ease (it’d be far easier if he’d pull his own weight, but at least he was quiet). 
That was, until you got outside. And then the whining began again. 
“How can you treat me like this?” Gojo’s hands cling to your arm, his face buried in your shoulder, “you shouldn’t ignore the one you’re supposed to protect!” and he’s shaking his head like a petulant child, his bottom lip quivering. 
“You’re the one who left my side, not the other way around,” you grumble, as he’s finally beginning to walk by himself but he’s still stuck to your side like an overgrown cactus, “you’re the one who wanted to go to this goddamn party,” 
“Yeah but you’re the one who's supposed to protect me,” he pouts, as he stops right in front of his building, “I can’t do your job for you,” and he’s finally standing in front of you, his cheeks and nose still flushed from the alcohol, his hand still clutching at yours, “do you even know how to do your job?” 
You grit your teeth. Would punching the person you’re hired to protect be a breach of contract? You rub your temples, it may come to that. 
“You’re an idiot,” you jerk your hand away, shaking your head, “my job is to protect you, not to stop you from doing stupid college boy shit,” 
He’s crossing his arms, “I could have been in danger — what if that alcohol was poisoned? I feel really sick,” he grips, holding his stomach with pursed lips, and you’re thoroughly unimpressed. 
“I looked at it, it wasn’t poisoned,” you raise an eyebrow, before sighing, and shrugging your shoulder bag off your shoulders, rooting around in the pouch, “but if you want, I have something in my bag that will turn your stomach inside out and we’ll be sure to get the poison out,” 
“Nooooo, no! I’m fine,” he’s shaking his head, his voice grows soft, “I just need to get to bed,” he mutters, and you roll your eyes, but grab him by his wrist. 
“Come on, we’re going inside,” and it’s a struggle to get to his apartment — more like a luxury penthouse — on the top floor, but somehow you get him inside and shepherd into his bedroom. And he’s shrugging off his button up before pulling off the shirt underneath. 
Your gaze snaps away, cheeks burning, your eyes trying to erase the glimpse of his fucking unfairly chiseled physique — complete a surprisingly broad chest and shoulders — how the fuck was that hiding under his clothes? He looked like a stick normally with his clothes on. 
“See something you like?” he’s snickering, as you hear the click of his belt and the and sounds of rustling — assuredly stepping out of his jeans. 
“No, just not used to clients stripping for me,” you turn your back to him, as you hear the creak of the mattress and the crinkling of his comforter and sheets. 
“Am I just a client to you?” his words were still mildly slurred, and you knew he’d be pouting if he had enough brain cells to do so, “you can turn around, I’m under the covers,” he adds with a grumble. 
You turn and see him curled up under his blanket and you have to bite back your smile — now he most assuredly looked like one of the kids you used to babysit. 
“Well what else am I supposed to see you as, Gojo?” you cross your arms, and he’s muttering under his breath, “what?” 
“That’s just it. You don’t even call me by my first name,” he’s brooding, face twisted in a scowl, “I don’t have a lot of people I trust. Most people are just after my money or my looks,” he looks at you, “you’re different. Kinda weird,” 
You quirk an eyebrow, “is that a good thing?” 
“Well I trust you,” he admits, and you note the tips of his ears barely visible outside the comforter are red — is it still the flush from the alcohol? “I don’t really have many of those,” 
And you’re taken aback — you thought you were nothing but a nuisance to this party obsessed prince, but maybe there was more to him than you thought. You toyed the ring on your finger, maybe you had more in common than you thought. 
“Thank you, I’m glad you do, because you can, trust me that is,” you say softly, “good night, Satoru.” 
And he does sleep after that, as you spend the night keeping watch, half to ensure his safety and the other to make sure he slept on his side in case he threw up
(and he did, twice). 
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“I need to talk to you,” Suguru Geto barely looked up from his phone when he saw Satoru in front of him, his best friend looking more irritable than usual — his usually bored affect seemed to be on holiday, “Suguru?” 
“I heard you the first time, what is it?” and Satoru snatches the phone from Suguru’s hands, “what the fuck—“ 
“What were you doing last night?” and Suguru tilts his head, before rubbing his temple.
“Give me my fucking phone—“ 
“What did you talk to her about?” And Suguru stares at him, his brow furrowed, smart mouth ready with a reply about a stint in a spa or a retreat was needed before his lips curl. 
“Oh. Her,” and he’s leaning back, a lazy shrug, “this and that,” 
“Cut the shit, Suguru, do you like her or not? Did you get her number?” And Satoru is trying to unlock Suguru’s phone, as Suguru watches with a tilt of his head and a wry grin on his lips, “huh? what is it?” 
“So you like her, that much is clear,” and he’s crossing his arms, “I assume you didn’t tell her or you wouldn’t have come in swinging and stealing?” 
Satoru stares at him, slack jawed and cheeks turning a deep pink that only carnations could rival, “No! She’s just a…friend of the family, and she’s not supposed to be with—“ 
“She told me she liked you,” his heart catches, mouth falling open, before Suguru’s lips curl, “well, she said that she was one of the many, rather,” 
Satoru’s cheeks burn, “It’s not like that, she barely even fucking looks at me. Can you believe that? Me?” and he gestures up and down his body. 
“I see your ego is still intact,” Suguru scoffs, shaking his head, before leaning back on his palms, “just tell her how you feel, Satoru, what’s the problem?” 
“The problem is I have no idea how she feels and it’s all your fault!” And Suguru raises an eyebrow, “you charmed her and I’m sure you’re the only one she’s thinking about now,” he covers his face, “and after what I said to her last night…” he couldn’t believe he admitted that you were the one of the only ones he trusted. And he called you weird. 
He honestly didn’t know what was worse. 
“What did you even say?” 
“Say to who?” and Satoru turns, finding you standing behind him, arms crossed. 
And Satoru cuts Suguru off before he can say a thing, “Not important. What are you doing here—“ you grab him by the wrist, a wave of heat makes his nearly burn red as you begin to drag him away, “what are you—“ 
“Bye Geto,” you say, waving at the raven haired student, before taking Geto’s phone and tossing it back to him, “I’m taking the idiot—“ 
“HUH?” 
“Good luck. He might need to be fed — he’s in a mood,” and he waves back, same smile on his lips. 
“What did you two do, adopt me?” Satoru grumbles as you pull him away, “where the hell are you dragging me? How did you even find me?” 
“The post hangover suits you well, we have to get to class, and I placed a tracker on you,” and he’s jerking his hand away, staring at you, “I have to be able to find you, don’t I?” 
“Where?” 
You tilt your head, “Why would I tell you? Don’t worry about, I’ll remove it after we’re done here,” 
You weren’t going to budge on this — and if he argued more, you would take it up with his father. And he would like to avoid that as much as possible. He sticks his hands in his pockets, , “I’m tired, can’t you just go and take notes for me?” 
“I thought you’d be more concerned about the threats against your life, instead of sending your bodyguard off to your class for you” you hiss, and he’s pouting again, unable to meet your gaze, “what’s your problem, Satoru?” 
And he pauses, the retort on lips dying as his brain looped in an infinite spiral of his name on your lips, “You called me ‘Satoru,’”
You tilt your head, “you told me to last night,” and then you add with a wicked grin, “remember? When you said I was one of the only people you trusted,” you tease, but he’s too busy hearing his name repeat in his head again and again, “Satoru—“ 
“Better be careful, sweetheart,” his lips curl into that annoyingly charming smile, “keep calling me by my first name and I may fall for you,” 
You glare at him, before rolling your eyes, “I see you’re feeling better now,” you walk forward, glancing back at him, “you coming?” 
And his wrist tingles still tingle from your touch, his lips quirk into a smile, “Yeah.” 
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“Why did you become a bodyguard?” Satoru asks you, the movie you had haphazardly chosen still ongoing had all become background noise while you spoke, the illumination from the television screen being the only thing that kept your faces lit in the dark living room (he had insisted on shutting the lights off for an “authentic movie watching experience”). 
It had been a few weeks, with no signs of the threat posed ever being eliminated — still new threats were being made, and the Gojo family was still on edge. 
But you were on edge for a whole other reason. 
His fingers were still shoved in the bag of kettle corn he had been snacking on this entire time, but you could feel his gaze on you, instead of the movie. 
“What do you mean?” your eyes slide to him, as your phone’s ringer goes off with a spam email, and you silence it, keeping it on vibrate for emergencies, “and what’s with the sudden question?” 
The two of you had settled into your routine — days spent in class, meals shared, grocery shopping, and nights spent either in or out — but again, always together. And, it wasn’t bad — some of it was fun, to the point you almost forgot you were working. 
But you were working. Even now, as your legs are thrown up on the couch, crossed underneath you, your knee brushing against his thigh. 
He shrugs, “You owe me a question, remember?” and he reminds you of your promise from weeks ago — you had wondered why he had never asked you anything that night, “You never talk about yourself. You implied you have your degree, but not much else. From what I’ve seen of you, you’re intelligent — you could have done anything, why this?” and his lips curl into that mischievous, “unless you just had to guard me when you found out it was me,” 
You toss a throw pillow at him, but he catches it with ease, “If only your body was as bulletproof as your body,” and he huffs out a laugh, as you sigh, “why are you interested anyway?” 
“Because I am,” you scoff. 
“Nice reasoning,” he only grins, a thousand watt even in the dark. 
“I thought so,” and he’s holding the pillow to his chest, “c’mon, can you not tell me even one thing about yourself?” 
He wasn’t going to let this go was he? And you relent, chewing on your lip, “My family has been in this business for years — my grandfather, my father, my uncles, and my cousins, and I wanted to be one too. To protect people — it’s a lot more work than it seems. It’s quick thinking, critical reasoning, and analytical skills. It’s all I ever wanted to do after watching my dad do it,” you say softly, “but he didn’t think I was capable of it. He thought I was too soft. Too weak. So I decided to prove him wrong,” 
“You weak? Has your father met you?” and you huff a laugh, “I’m serious,” his cerulean pools meeting yours with not a ripple of hesitancy in them, “I’ve seen you — I don’t I’ve met anyone this determined, or stubborn,” he adds with a smirk. 
“I’m stubborn?” you gape at him, “this coming from the king of stubborn,” 
“Only if you’ll be my queen,” and you roll your eyes, but your cheeks burn, as your gaze turns back to the movie — why did your heart catch at his words? “but trust me, I’m very flexible in other aspects,” 
“Oh my god, is every other sentence that leaves your mouth a pick-up line?” and he opens his mouth, “don’t say ‘only for you,’ or I will be the only threat you have to worry about,” 
“Promise?” you grab another pillow, but he catches your wrist before you can toss it. Your breath catches, and you can’t meet his gaze — you can’t, because you know if you do— but then he whispers your name. 
And you can’t help it. You look at him. His eyes are so pretty. They were really the first things that struck you when you met him — that was before he opened his mouth. They looked like they contained multitudes, a far too beautiful ocean tucked behind sunglasses and an irritated scowl. But it wasn’t a secret that Satoru Gojo was attractive — especially not when every other person glared at you for simply being in his presence. But physical attractiveness meant little if a person wasn’t good — because superficiality could only take you so far. 
And you knew what it was like to be only judged superficially — and by the way Satoru’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes when these people chatted him up, he was far too used to it. 
And once he did speak, you had written him off as another rich kid — you had seen them a dime a dozen throughout your schooling and from the people your family was protected to hire. But there was something about him — something you couldn’t quite shake, even though every part of you was telling to do so. 
“What is it, Satoru?” And his fingers tug you a little closer, gently, his hand loose enough for you to slip away, but you don’t. Why don’t you? 
“You don’t always have to have your guard up,” his voice is soft, far too soft for the far too loud heir, “it’s okay to open up,” 
You shake your head, but still unable to pull away, “It’s dangerous,” and he laughs, a sound that only warms the thin icy barrier between you both, melting it to nothing. 
“Isn’t danger the whole reason we met?” And now his thumb brushes up and down against your wrist, and you wonder if he can feel your pulse roaring just underneath. 
You pull away again, shaking your head, as you cross your arms, trying to hold your resolve together, “I can’t do my job if I’m distracted,” and you couldn’t, even now, you weren’t evaluating any risks, you weren’t trying to find the source of the threats — no, you were too busy trying not to inch closer to your client, trying not to look at his lips, trying not to give in to what you wanted. 
“And I’m a distraction?” he looks far too pleased, but a thought seems to sour his smirk, “I thought Suguru was more of one,” and his lips are caught in a slight pout. 
“Geto was just keeping me company while you entertained those girls hanging on your every word,” you can’t dull the point to your words, and it replaces his pout with a grin. 
“So you were jealous,” 
“You’re the one who was jealous — you could have killed Suguru with your glare alone,” 
“But you didn’t deny it,” and it makes you stop — why didn’t you deny it? 
“I can’t do this,” and you’re pulling away, before flicking off the tv and rising from the couch your phone in hand, turning towards the hallway, “it’s late we should go to bed—“ but he’s catching your wrist again, “Gojo—“ 
“Satoru,” he corrects, and you hated how gentle his fingers felt around your wrist, “how are you supposed to protect me if you’re too busy running away from me?” 
“I’m great at multitasking,” and he’s drawing closer to you, his soft footfalls against the carpet, even as you step away from him, “my job is to protect you, we can’t get distracted—“ 
“I thought you were so good at multitasking,” he chuckles, his fingers find your wrist again, slipping to intertwine with your own, fingers interlaced, and your phone falls from your fingers and onto the couch, “what I said that night when I was drunk was true — I don’t have a lot of people I trust. People don’t understand. They put me on a pedestal or they don’t want me, they want the concept of me — not the reality,” 
“I’m not licensed as a therapist you know,” and he’s sighing. 
“Do you always have to deflect with humor? Because if we both do that, we’ll never get through a conversation,” and he squeezes your hand, “which I guess I don’t mind if that means you’ll stay,” 
“Satoru—“ 
“We don’t have to do anything now — we don’t have to do anything at all,” and you can feel his words warming your skin, “but don’t you feel something?” 
You hesitate, and you can’t look at him,  “No, I don’t,” 
“You’re not a very good liar — don’t they teach you that in bodyguard academy?” 
You snort, holding your head, “Is that where you imagined I got my training done?”
“Well, you don’t exactly like to share, now do you?” he’s stepping forward again, and you can’t bring yourself to run away anymore. 
“I shouldn’t,” and you hear the faint sound of his breath hitching, “but I do,” 
You don’t need to look at him to hear the smile on his lips, “so maybe it’s a distraction worth having,” 
“But—” and he’s gently turning you to face him, his fingers brushing a stray hair from your face, heat blooming with his touch, “Satoru…” 
“Why do you keep saying my name when you know I like hearing it?” he’s teasing, but you’re not shying away from his touch, as his fingers cup your chin now, upwards, so you meet his gaze, “maybe we should have had you pretend to be my girlfriend,” 
You chuckle, “Oh I could see that going wrong in so many ways,” and he’s leaning even closer, as he’s left the line you’d drawn far behind, marred it with his touch, and is luring you over to stumble over the edge with him. 
“Is this one of them?” 
“Probably,” and his lips brush against yours — he tastes sweet, the taste of kettle corn lingers, as his fingers cup your cheek now, and find purchase on his shoulder. It’s brief, a soft press that leaves you far too breathless, as if his touch had taken the air from your lungs, only to leave heat behind, “definitely,” 
“Is that a good thing or—” and your lips find his this time, a gasp you swallow with a smirk, and he melts into your touch, eager fingers grasping at the front of his shirt. And he responds in kind, his fingers tracing a path, as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before his hand settles on the back of your neck. 
His touch set every nerve ending on fire — a desperate wildfire that burned a trail across your mind and body — leaving only the crave of his touch behind, that left you wanting more, needing more.
“Was that good?” you murmur, as you take in your handiwork, his pink lips were bitten red by your kisses, his marble skin a lovely flush, and his gaze far too needy. God, it’s far too easy to get lost in him — pull your anchor from the shore and get lost in his gaze and touch, “god I shouldn’t ask that, we shouldn’t be doing this—” but your body refuses to pull away, and you don’t think by the grasp he has on you, that you’d be able to anyway. 
But he only gives you the same answer to each of your statements — he kisses you again, slower and more languid this time, as the two of you walk towards the bedroom, your hands reaching for each other and the walls, as you both stumble into his bedroom. 
“We don’t—” he says, between kisses, “I didn’t—” 
“I didn’t either, but—” you can’t stop touching him, you don’t want to, despite the logical part of you screaming at you to leave his room, it’s overridden by just how much you want him. He’s frustrating, he’s an idiot, he’s sweet, he’s cute, and he’s a little pathetic — but you liked that in a man. Every sense of logic is screaming at you to stop — but it all turns to white noise  “but I don’t want to stop.” 
He’s grinning as he pulls you into another kiss, his arms wrapping around his waist, pressing you against him, “That addicted already?” lips parting as he kisses down your neck, pulse jumping under his touch. 
“You’re just lucky Geto didn’t get to me first,” and he furrows his brow, before his teeth graze against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, drawing a gasp from your lips, “Satoru, what was that for—”  
“So everyone knows you’re mine? Including Suguru,” he’s sucking lightly at the mark, soothing his tongue, “and I’ll make sure he knows,” 
“Oh, I trust you’ll be subtle,” and he’s guiding you towards his bed, both of you falling onto it, his knee pressing your legs apart, as he hovers over you, his ocean gaze dark as a storm ridden sea. 
“Oh you know me, princess,” and his knee presses against your clothed cunt, rubbing against it teasingly, “subtlety is my specialty,” 
“Subtle as a truck,” you murmur, and he’s laughing as he kisses you again, making your lips curl, as his hands slide up your sides, squeezing your hips, “Satoru, please,” 
“What’s the fun if I don’t get to tease you?” he’s kissing needy kisses to your neck, as his knee doesn’t relent, grinding lightly against your increasingly wet core, slick leeching through the thin material of your shorts, “gotta make sure you want it right?”
“You treat all the people you bring home this well?” and he’s pausing, lips against your neck, “I didn’t mean anything—” 
“You’re the first,” you stare up at him, and he’s hesitant for once when usually he’s always barreling forward, “I’ve never brought anyone here,” and he licks his lips, a deeper flush settling over his porcelain skin, “I’ve never actually—” 
And you blink, “Really?” 
He huffs, “Is it that surprising—” 
“I mean a little, from the way everyone acts around you, and the way you act—” 
“Well, ‘act’ is the key word, now isn’t it?” he’s licking his lips as he looks down at you, “it’s easy to act when you know what they expect from you — a role to play,” 
���Well, the role’s been filled, so how about you just be yourself for me?” you murmur softly, a featherlight touch as you trace the curve of his jaw, and his lips find his smile under your delicate touch, “so I can ask, is this your first time like you asked me?” 
And he’s leaning up to kiss you, your hand resting against his chest, his heartbeat galloping under your touch, “And if I said yes?” 
You smile, before flipping him onto his back, his gaze wide as he stares up at you, “Then we better make it memorable.” 
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“Please, I want to—“ his soft pants left his perfect lips, chest heaving as your fingers curled around his erection, far too hard from just what you had done. You’d stripped yourself and him bare — your inhibitions left far behind — as your lips kissed the tip of his aching cock.
“Lemme make you feel good, Satoru,” you murmur, looking up at him with fluttering eyes, your fingers smearing his pre cum along his length, and he’s pressing his head into the pillow, “s’big, can’t wait to feel you inside me,” you murmur, and you slowly pump him, drawing moan after moan from his lips. 
“Won’t last long—can’t—“ he’s biting his lip, his hips thrusting into your touch, before your lips suck at his tip again, and he’s gone, cumming hard all over your face and fingers. God, it never felt that good when he touched himself. Your fingers even brushing against him made him want to cum almost instantly, your soft touch and lips were enough to send him over the edge over and over again.  
He’s panting, eyes fluttering open to see you licking your lips clean with your tongue, as you meet his gaze with a grin, slowly sucking on each one of your fingers until you’ve cleaned yourself of his cum. 
“Princess, fuck,” he’s lying back on the pillow, as your lips slowly kiss back up his body, your tongue dragging between the fluttering muscles of his stomach and chest. 
“Already hard again?” You murmur, a smirk on your lips, “so sensitive for me,” 
He’s keening at your words, a whimper leaving his lips. His eyes are blown out in pleasure as he meets your gaze, and you kiss him again, sloppy and messy, as his tongue brushes against yours, your clothed pussy grinding against his erection. 
“Please,” he can’t help the words leaving his lips, “I need you,” 
“Is this the first time you’ve begged for something?” You tease him, smirk on your lips as your thumb teases one of his nipples, pulling a gasp from his lips, “such a good boy,” 
He hissed at your praise, “fuck—“ 
And you’re grinding against him, he’s already embarrassingly hard, blood rushing back to his cock as if it never left, as it drags against the all too wet fabric of your panties. And every small moan that leaves your lips leaving him needing more, his pre cum mixing with your cum that seeps through your panties, and is the second time he comes with you gonna be just grinding against each other on this bed? But he can’t help it if you keep nibbling at his neck like that, your pretty little pants in his ear, the head of his dick catching on your clit — so fucking good. 
“Toru, c-close, ngh, g’nna cum—“ and he’s nodding, forcing his eyes open to watch you cum, your chest shaking, as you hover above him, your eyes squeezed shut and lips parted as you said his name. 
“S’good,” he’s grunting, “Cum f’me,” and you both do, the slick and stickiness between your bodies almost unbearable, as you both pant, as you rest your head against his shoulder. 
The silence sinks in for a moment, as you kiss his cheek, “we can stop here if you want,” your voice is soft, nose brushing against his neck, “don’t want to make you—“
And he’s flipping you onto your back, his fingers finding the waistband of your shorts, your breath hitching as he drags the material down your legs, and tosses it behind him, “I want this, I want you, and I won’t stop saying it until you believe it,” he leans down, breath warming your breasts through your shirt, before his lips suck at your clothed nipples, making you shiver, “you like that, huh?” 
“Shut up,” your cheeks burn, but he’s only tugging your shirt over your head and off, his gaze hot as he drags his eyes down your exposed body, and it makes you squirm, “Satoru — please—“ 
“Now who’s the one doing the begging?” he leans down to suck on your nipple, while his fingers toy with the other between his thumb and forefinger, “I wanna learn what makes you feel good — wanna make you cum under my touch, wanna taste you,” he switches sides, his teeth grazing the skin of your breast, sucking a mark before soothing it with his tongue, “mine,” 
“Satoru, fuck, I want—“ and his fingers trace down your body, making you gasp, he’s kissing down your chest and then your stomach, tongue dipping into your bellybutton, “you fucking—“ 
“Gotta make you feel good don’t I?” he has a shit eating grin on his lips, as he settles between your thighs, and his fingers press against the growing wet patch on your panties, “though it looks like you’re already feeling good,” 
You bite back a whimper, “Are you gonna make me feel good or are you gonna keep talking—“ you moan when his thumb bears down on your needy clit, rubbing it through the nearly translucent fabric of your underwear. 
“What was that, sweetheart?” And he’s snapping the waistband of your panties against your skin, “couldn’t hear you,” 
“You fucker—“ and he’s kissing your clothed cunt through the wet fabric, nose brushing against your clit, making you nearly shake, as he inhales before he moans. 
“So sweet, must taste even sweeter,” he murmurs before tugging your underwear down, before you’re kicking it off, making him chuckle, “so eager,” and you scowl up at him, ineffective from the way lips are parted, “you’re so cute,” 
“I’m not cute,” you pout, and he’s laughing, a noise you could drown in, just as you do his eyes. 
“You’re very cute, and I’ll tell you as many times as it takes you to believe it,” and his lips press soft kisses to your thighs, “my cute bodyguard, you gonna guard my heart as well as you do my body?” 
And before you can reply his breath is warming your soaked cunt, his fingers parting your folds apart, your clit was puffy, your sex slick with your mixed juices, “so pretty, this all just for me?” And you hiss as he holds your outer lips apart, “so this is what your pussy looks like, huh?” And your thighs are twitching, trying to shut, but his palms hold you apart, his heated gaze meeting your shy ones, “you’re perfect, don’t hide from me, you’ve done enough of that,” and he kisses your clit, making you moan, “and I won’t have that anymore,” 
“Satoru—“ and his tongue drags over the length of your dripping pussy experimentally, tip of his tongue flicking against your clit, fuck, how can he this good at this? Your toes are already curling as he groans, his fingers sliding under your thighs, and tugging you impossibly closer to his face. Your fingers weave into his white locks, “‘ngh— 
“Be a good girl and take it,” he grunts against you, slurping your juices, the sounds of his tongue buried in your cunt, fucking you open, dragging across your walls, “taste s’fucking good, how’d I hold out this long without tasting you?” And your eyes flutter open at his groans, seeing him grind down on the sheets, so fucking horny from eating you out, “g’nna just cum from your taste alone, Princess,” you’re so incredibly soft, so soft, despite your walls being so tough, and it makes only eat you eat you from the inside out. 
You’re so close, and all you hear is the sounds of his greedy tongue swallowing you whole, and the sound of your heartbeat and short gasps. Your walls flutter around his tongue, your thighs twitching under his touch, hips jolting forward to meet his touch, his tongue so fucking deep that you can’t see straight, “Toru, please, I’m so close—“ 
And you feel him groan into your pussy, redoubling his efforts before his fingers find your clit and rub at it while he sucks at your cunt. You cum hard, fingernails digging into his scalp, as your back arches as he eagerly eats you out through your orgasm. The wet squelch of your cunt and his tongue slurping against you, drinking every drop you offer him. 
And then finally he’s pulling away with a pop, his chin and mouth dripping with your release and his spit, pink tongue darting out to clean up your cum from his face, wiping off the rest as he looked up at you from white lashed half lidded eyes. 
And you can’t even speak, still coming down from your high, as he kisses up your body again, your thighs still shaking from your orgasm, your fingers reaching for his cheek, tracing his jaw, before cupping his cheek. 
“How the fuck do you know how to do that well?” And he flashes a pretty smile, as he drags his thumb down your lips. 
“I said I was a virgin, I didn’t say I didn’t know how to do some things — and as you know, I’m an excellent student,” and you huff, raising an eyebrow, “and I’m naturally good at everything,” 
“And always so humble,” he laughs, before he kisses you again, letting you taste yourself on his sweet lips, and you’re rolling him over onto his back, his erection slick with precum, pressing against your sensitive cunt, “let me make you feel good now,” you murmur, his cock twitching against you, “wanna ride you, Toru, need you in me,” 
And he’s hissing, as he moves to sit against the headboard, “You keep talking like that princess, I’m g’nna cum before you even—“ and your fingers are reaching between your bodies, and you’re stroking him, smearing his precum over the length of his shaft, making his hips jerk, “fuck—” 
You’re so fucking pretty — your teeth baring down on your bottom lip, as you straddle him, hovering still, his aching tip barely brushing against your dripping cunt, “are you sure?” you murmur, eyes meeting his own, and his lips quirk into a smile. 
“Never been more sure of anything,” and you sink onto him, thick length parting your folds, and he groans, as you fit him in your pussy, inch by inch, until your hips are flush. And fuck, he’s never felt anything better — pleasure runs up and down his body, as his hands find their way to your hips.
You’re tense at first, your back slightly arched, and when he shifts under you, a moan is ripped from your lips, as you begin to adjust to his size, “s’big, Toru, gonna make it hard for me to last too, feels too good,” you’re mumbling, and he’s holding his hips taut, making sure not to move — or else, he’s sure he’d cum in one stroke, “g’nna move ok?” and he’s nodding desperately, your walls already fluttering around him — slick and warm, better anything he’d ever felt. 
You lift up to the tip, before beginning to rock steadily up and down, as he moans, your sweet cunt swallowing him eagerly, as you began to fuck yourself on his cock. Your chest bounces as you ride him, and he can’t resist leaning forward to take a hardened bud in his mouth, your moan making his cock twitch inside you. And he knows why people become addicted to sex — hell, he knew was an addict for it now, but only with you. 
“Fuck, never felt anything this good before, sweetheart, feel s’perfect for me,” he’s grunting, the coil in his stomach growing tighter, as your pace grows more and more sloppy. He wasn’t going to last long, and neither were you from the way you were groaning his name again and again. The wet squelch and smacks of your bodies meeting again and again, only making it harder to hold back, and when he looks to see a white ring of your precum pooling around the base of his dick, he’s nearly gone, “fuck, baby, need you to cum with me,” 
“It’s okay, pretty boy, cum for me,” he keens at the praise, but he’s stubborn, as you established, and he won’t cum until you do too — and so he ensures it, reaching between your bodies to rub meanly at your clit before meeting your thrusts with his own. 
And his tip brushes against that spot that has your vision blurring and toes curling, “Toru, ngh, I’m—” and you’re cumming hard around him, making him spill his warm and thick seed inside your cunt, and he’s groaning you name as he does, your body slowing as you both come down from your highs, your head resting on his shoulder, as your bodies grow limp, resting, his back pressed to the headboard of his bed. 
His fingers trace the curve of your back gently, as he turns his head to press soft kisses to your neck, “Am I still just a distraction?” his lips curled into a smile, and you chuckle, burying your face in his shoulder. 
“Definitely,” but you lean back to cup his cheek, and look at his pretty face again, “but one worth having.” 
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You don’t wake from your alarm the next morning. 
Instead, you wake to banging on the door. You both jolt awake, and he’s pulling you into his arms, even as you move to get up, he won’t let go, strong arms around your waist. You’re easing his arms off, trying to be gentle, “Toru, let go, and wait here, your father had a panic room installed in your closet, you hear anything, go inside—” 
“No, I’m coming with you,” and you shake your head. 
“I’m hired to protect you, not the other way around,” you leave his embrace, and face him, his crystal eyes blurred over with worry, “I can handle this,” you reassure him, your fingers intertwining with his, as you press a kiss to his knuckles, “I promise,” 
“But—” and you kiss him gently, silencing his protests, before you slip away into the hallway. 
You enter the living room, shutting the bedroom door without a sound, stalking through the hall, as you grab a knife and pepper spray from the chest of drawers that was pressed to the wall of the hallway — you had several self defense tools hidden all over the apartment. Your heartbeat thunders in your ear, mouth dry, as you approach the door from the side. 
“Who is it?”
“It’s Mr. Gojo, open this door,” and you sigh, relaxing, as you check and unlock the door for him. 
Shinsaku Gojo was only a man you were able to meet once before your work for him began. And it was a privilege even to see him then. His schedule was always packed — multiple meetings, multiple clients, and multiple women, all vying for his attention. Even as you spoke with him the first time, his eyes were on his phone the entire time, except when he had warned you, not to let anything distract you from protecting his son. 
And you had done just that — and even worse, his son had done the distracting, “Mr—” 
“Where’s my son? He hasn’t answered his phone all morning, and neither have you—didn’t you hear from your agency?” his voice is raising, as he dials your number again, and your phone vibrates on the couch. He scoffs, disconnecting the call, as his hard gaze turned back to you, “what if there was a threat? You left your phone—” 
“Dad,” Satoru emerges from the room, his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, “it’s not her fault, she forgot it last night when we were watching a movie,” 
“Watching a movie?” he sneers, his cerulean gaze the same as son, but without any of the warmth Satoru had — an icy tundra compared to a warm pool, “she should be watching you, that’s her job—” 
“She was watching me — something you never bothered to do,” and his father’s eyes narrow, “she’s shown more concern for me than you ever had — and she only met me a few weeks ago. What’s your excuse for being a pathetic piece of—“ 
“Satoru,” your fingers brush his shoulder, shaking your head, “sir, I take responsibility for this lapse of judgment. Don’t blame your son,”
Satoru lowers his voice, “it’s not your fault—“ 
“It is. I disregarded by duty to protect you,” your cheeks burn with shame — “what if i had missed an alert you were in danger? What if I failed to protect you because I wasn’t focused? What if—“ 
“Nothing happened,” he says softly, and the twitch of his fingers tells you he’s gonna reach for you, but you step forward, shaking your head. 
“Nothing did,” and you turn to his father, “I’ll protect Satoru until you can find a suitable replacement for me. But I compromised my mission to protect him. I would like to resign as soon as possible,” 
“No! I—“ 
“Agreed,” his father says, “I’ll have your replacement here in an hour, make sure you’re packed up by then,” and his father leaves without another word. 
You brush past him to gather your things, but he’s caught you by the wrist, “Why did you do—“ 
“Gojo,” and you can’t bear to see the hurt in his eyes, “I can’t let my feelings get in the way of keeping you safe—“ 
“I don’t care—“ you cut him off. 
“I do, I couldn’t stand if something happened to you because of me. What it was an emergency last night and you got hurt because of my own carelessness—“ 
“It wasn’t careless what happened last night—“ 
“It was,” you say, walking to your room, “and it won’t happen again.” 
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You left. You had expected a fight, an argument, a dramatic show of tears — but nothing. Satoru hadn’t even opened his door to watch you leave. The other bodyguard arrived quickly, and you left the penthouse and didn’t look back. 
It was for the best. 
You had a duty, a role to play, and more than that, you couldn’t let him get hurt because of your inability to compartmentalize. Even so, Satoru’s father was kind enough not to have told your father what happened — or you supposed it was pity in exchange for your quick and easy resignation. 
Fuck. Why were you still thinking about this? You rolled over in bed, burying your head under your comforter. A week out, and you still couldn’t stop worrying about Satoru, about his safety, about the hurt on his face, about that night… 
You had fucked everything up, and fucked Satoru up in the aftermath. 
You poke your head out, and stare at your phone on your bedside table — 7:45 PM, no new messages — you had written out six different messages to him again and again, before deleting them. You wondered how many more you’d write before you finally would rid your mind of him. 
Would you ever rid your mind of him? 
And that’s when your phone rings. But it’s not flashing Satoru’s number — it’s his father. You scramble for the phone — why was he calling? And you can only think of one reason. You can’t say a single word when you pick up — his father already hissing his first question.  
“Where is he?” your words are lodged in your throat, stuck on your heart that had leapt from your chest. 
“What?” 
“Where’s Satoru? He came to you didn’t he?” he growls, and you hear a slam, assumedly his fist against his desk, “he shook off his new bodyguard, and his phone is off,” 
“He hasn’t — I haven’t talked to him since I left—” your mind is running a mile a minute, racking your brain, placing the call on speakerphone, as you text Satoru, where are you? “Where did the bodyguard see him last?” 
“He had him at the dorms, he said he was going to see a friend, and then gave him the slip,” his father groans, “you hear anything from him, otherwise—” 
“I’ll let you know,” you cut him off at the threats — you had more important things to do. You checked your messages, but your messages hadn’t gone through, and you tried calling him — but it went straight to voicemail. Satoru was upset — he could’ve blocked you or turned off his phone to piss off his father, but you didn’t see him doing that. He was an idiot, but he knew his father would lose his shit. 
And then you remembered. The tracker you placed on Satoru — you never took it off. You had sewed it into the insole of his daily shoes (the man had far too many clothes and shoes, but he rarely found the energy to not wear anything besides the shoes he always wore). 
You turned it on, biting your lip as you watched the tracker loaded, and his location popped up — and it wasn’t at his apartment. 
It was in Shibuya — you typed in the address and he was at a house. 
You furrow your brow, who did he know who lived in Shibuya? And then it clicked. 
Fuck. 
Those girls. 
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Satoru groaned, fuck, why is his head hurting so badly? 
It wasn’t exactly unusual the last few days. He hadn’t been sleeping much since you left, he spent most of his nights watching TV and rotting in his bed. But everything reminded him of you — his bed, his couch, and even the shows he watched (he had continued one of the shows you both had started one late night). 
His apartment was a disaster — a mess of empty soda cans, empty wrappers of candy and old takeout containers. But he couldn’t be bothered with it — to clean it up or call someone to clean it up. His bodyguard had taken up residence in your room — or rather the guest room — and hardly emerged, keeping an eye on him through cameras his father had installed around the doors and hallway. 
Not that he really needed to, Satoru rarely left his apartment, even had skipped classes for a week — sending an email that he had a very contagious illness and that he’d be happy to attend class if necessary. They sent him materials to work on classwork from home, piled untouched on his kitchen counter, with a possible smudge from the hot fudge he had last night. 
He had made progress — instead of staying in bed, he moved onto the couch for his afternoon nap, and he had just fallen asleep when there was a banging on his door. He groaned into the couch pillow he had just gotten comfortable on, before pulling it onto his head, trying to block out the sounds of the knocking. 
“Satoru! Open up,” he hears Suguru’s voice through the door, “open the fucking door, I know you’re not sick,” 
He pulls himself up, groaning, as he wipes the small amount of drool from his lips, as he meanders to the door, throwing it open. 
“You look like shit,” Suguru says, brushing past him to enter. 
“No ‘hello, you look like shit?’” He mumbles, still rubbing his eyes, “what are you doing here?” 
“I should be asking you that,” he stands, hands in his pockets, as he takes in the mess with a wrinkled nose, “although I see you’ve decided to redecorate,”
“Hilarious,” Satoru replies, lying back on the couch, “did you come here just to hassle me?” 
“I’d be lying if I didn’t say that wasn’t part of it, but the other was to see if you’re ready to pick yourself back up after your breakup—“ 
“It wasn’t a breakup,” Satoru snaps. 
“If it wasn’t, then why does it look like you haven’t showered in several days since she left?” Suguru raises an eyebrow, and Satoru scowls. 
“I’m sick,” he turns away to face the couch, “I don’t have the energy to shower,” 
“But you have the energy to eat about half a dozen mochi doughnuts?” Suguru holds up an empty doughnut box, and Satoru holds a couch pillow to his chest, “Satoru, come on, it isn’t like you to wallow like this,” 
“I’m not wallowing—“ 
“Yeah, yeah, you’re sick, right?” Suguru says sarcastically. Satoru doesn’t need to look at his best friend to know he’s rolling his eyes, “well you don’t seem like you’re sneezing or coughing so go take a shower or something,” Satoru gives a weak fake cough, and he could feel Suguru’s glare, “fine, rot in bed, but you have to get up sometime, just text me when you’re ready to,” 
And Satoru hears Suguru’s footsteps recede to the door, swinging shut with a click behind him. He buries his face in the pillow. It wasn’t a break up. How could it be when you didn’t even have a relationship to begin with? You had made that clear enough when you left without another word to him. He didn’t leave his room until he heard the door shut behind you, and he made his way out to watch you leave out the front door of the apartment. And you didn’t even look back. But you weren’t the type to. 
He felt like he was always looking back — one way or another. 
And even now, as he came to — he was trying to remember what he had done after Suguru left. Someone else had shown up — knocked at his door. Offered to get him out of the house — offered him free alcohol and a distraction. 
And he had agreed — if only to forget about you for a moment. Drinking was the only thing that made him forget — if he only could somehow forget how terrible alcohol tasted. 
His head spun, so was this a hangover? It’s certainly worse than the one he had before — the last one felt like his brain was fuzzy and nausea clawed at his stomach — this time, it felt more akin to someone taking a blender to both of those organs. And his neck, he stretched it both ways. How had he fallen asleep? 
And then he tried to lift up his hand to rub his eyes, and he couldn't, wrist straining against something — his brow furrowed, what was arm caught on — and his eyes fluttered open. It was dark — the only light came from another room, peeking through the crack at the bottom of, what he assumed was, a door. And then as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he looked at his arms. 
Ropes. Twisted around both his arms, binding his wrists and forearms to the arms of a chair, and his vision blurs — what? His legs jerk instinctively, but ropes dig into the flesh of his ankles, and he glanced down only to find what he expected. 
“You’re awake,” the light flicks on, he lifts his head, blinking away the fog in his head and the burning tears slipping from his eyes, “didn’t realize the drug would knock you out for that long,”
He blinks again and again, light flooding his eyes, until he can see and sees a familiar face — “Misaki?” the light sends a piercing jolt through his head, “or is it Yumiko?” 
“Well that’s flattering, you can’t even remember my name?” she sighs, crossing her arms, “well I unfortunately don’t have the same luxury,” and then she adds with a quirk of her lips, “it is Yumiko,” and she steps forward, as his eyes squeeze shut, his head still banging, “sorry what I gave you to knock you out can cause some light sensitivity,” 
It’s slowly sinking in, “I don’t know what kind of weird kink you have, but I’m not interested,” and she scoffs, pressing her knuckles to her chin, “where am I?” 
“Do you think I’m really going to tell you that?” she raises an eyebrow, “I did send you threats after all, you don’t think I’d be that stupid to tell you where I am,” 
He needed to buy time, he needed to find a way to get out of here, and to do that, he needed time, “What? Are you obsessed with me or something? Do you want my body?”
“I’m going to stop your overinflated ego there,” she sighs, leaning against a table that was behind her, “I have a debt to pay and you’re the price,” 
“Debt?” he repeats, “is this where you explain your whole plan? And villain speech? Because I usually I could care less, but I’m feeling a little generous with my time, as I’m a little tied up at the moment, so—” 
“Do you ever shut up?” 
“It’s known to happen on occasion,” she rubs her temples, and then something occurs to him, “how did you get my address? You showed up and invited me,” 
She shakes his head, “You think I couldn’t find out your address after sending you threats?” and she sighs, “You know this is why I tried to do this at the first party — get it over with so I wouldn’t have to deal with this. But then you crushed your beer cup, your little girlfriend got in the way, and that idiot Misaki accidentally switched her shot glass with yours, so I couldn’t get you dosed,” she grits her teeth, “and then the rest of the semester, your girlfriend was up your ass the entire time — but she wasn’t your girlfriend was she? She was your bodyguard,” he says nothing, “you don’t need to confirm it for me, I already found her information, her name, her address—” 
“What do you want? Money? My father will pay anything to get me back. Tell me who you need to repay and he’ll do it,” and her lips curl. 
“So serious now — and so cooperative, maybe I should have kidnapped her too while I was at it,” she shrugs, while she grabs her phone from the table — a burner — “my father will be here to escort you to where you need to go. The yakuza will take it from there,” his blood runs cold, “Don’t cause a fuss and i can promise your girlfriend will stay safe,” 
He grits his teeth — he was so stupid. This was exactly the kind of shit you were trying to protect him from. And it was the thing he landed himself in the moment you left. But he didn’t care — because it was better this way, because you were safe this way.
“Wow, you’re pretty cute when you’re all quiet,” and she’s walking over, and he’s flinching as she drags a manicured nail down his cheek, before tilting it up, “it’s just that mouth that’s a problem,” and her thumb brushes down his lips, “don’t bite, or we might have a problem,” 
And he doesn’t, but then he smiles back, “you might like it when I bite,” he smirks, “why don’t you come here and find out?” And she raises her eyebrows, leaning closer, and he smashes his forehead into hers, “fuck off,” 
She stumbles back, losing her balance, and leaning against the table as she clutches at her forehead. Satoru watches her, trying to wriggle out of his constraints, rope chafing against his skin, red welts rising on his skin, but he only manages to get one hand free before she’s starting to get her bearings, and then he’s trying to free himself, his chair tipping over. And now he’s lying helplessly as she stumbles forward over to him, clutching a knife she grabbed off the table. 
“I have to hand you over to the yakuza, but they didn’t say you had to be completely unharmed,” she presses the tip of the knife to his cheek, “maybe we’ll do something to that pretty face of yours,” he grits his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. 
CRACK. 
He hears a body slump over, and the clatter of the knife against the cement floor, and his eyes open to find you kneeling beside him. He’s blinking, murmuring your name, “What are you—” 
“Well I never did remove that tracker did I?”  You’re cutting the ropes on his wrists and ankles with the knife, “and I’m lucky you wear the same damn shoes everyday,” 
“Why did you come for me?” he says, as you finally free him his restraints, your fingers gentle as they examine the welts and bruises left on his skin, “you could have just told my father where I was or the police,” 
“I could’ve. I saw where you were and I figured it out—“ and your voice wavers, “but all I could think was that I wanted to find you. And I didn’t wanna wait for anyone else. I didn’t want something to happen just because someone else was too slow,” the lump in your throat grows only larger, as you sit, “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you,” 
“Why?” he asks softly, his fingers brush against your cheek, and he knows why — he does, but he needs to hear it. 
“Because I just want…to be the one to protect you,” you admit, tears burning at your eyes, as your thumb traces over his rope burns and bruises, “I wish that I could have,” 
“You did a pretty good job, considering I almost was about to get my face cut up,” and he gently wipes your tears away, “imagine what a tragedy that would be,” 
You give a watery chuckle, cupping his cheeks, “I’m sorry,” and he opens his mouth, “no i really am. I shouldn’t have slept with you, only to cut and run after. I thought…I thought I was doing you a favor,” 
“How?” And you sigh, blinking away your tears. 
“I put your life in danger by doing that. I couldn’t do that. I knew the only way you’d let me go is…if I lied to you and said I didn’t care about you,” you bite your bottom lip, “and I’m sorry because I only hurt you more in the end,” 
He kisses your lips gently, chastely, his breath warming your lips as he parts from them, “you did,” and you scoff, pushing him playfully, “but as long as you promise not to do it again, I think I can find it in my incredibly generous heart to forgive you,” 
You kiss him again, softly, your fingers sliding to the back his neck, into his undercut, “I promise,” and he grins, before leaning back to kiss you again, when a cough behind you catches your attention. 
“My father will be getting here shortly you idiots, while you gaze fucking stupidly into each other’s eyes,” she sneers, and you raise an eyebrow. 
“You think I’d come here without calling the police? They already have picked up your father — and they should be almost here—“ and the sounds of an ambulance and police sirens come into earshot. 
“Good timing,” Satoru mutters, as Yumiko tries and fails to stumble to her feet, and you get up and pin her to the ground. Satoru raises an eyebrow, and watches, as you glance back at him, tilting your head in question, “nothing, it’s just…hot to see you in action,” 
You laugh, “Did she hit your head too?” And he shrugs, as he gets onto this feet with shaky legs, “Satoru—“ 
And he sits next to you, leaning on your shoulder, “just let me rest here for a minute,” he mumbles. 
For the first time since you left, Satoru felt like he could finally rest. 
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And Satoru did rest, he realized as he blinked awake to the ambient sounds of the hospital room, the distinct beep of the heartbeat monitor, the dim light of the moon filtering through the shades, and the distant sounds of people walking through the hall. He hears the sounds of sheets rustling, and his gaze snaps over to his left. 
His gaze softens. You were fast asleep beside him, your arms tucked under your head, your breaths were soft, as they were the night you two had spent together. He sat himself up — fingers running through your hair gently. You had fallen asleep before him that night, face buried in the crook of his neck, and your legs entangled with his. And now you slept beside him on a chair, leaning on his bedside. 
His fingers carded through your hair again, and you stirred, as he swore under his breath, your eyes fluttered open, “Toru?” you mumbled, still half asleep, and he hummed. 
“Sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he sighed softly, “why are you sleeping here? You should have gone home,” you sit up, stretching, as you furrow your brow, eyes scanning him for any sign of an injury or distress. 
“I wanted to make sure you were okay — you were unconscious, but no concussion thankfully. I tried to wake you up but you wouldn’t wake,” you sigh, words tumbling out almost faster than you can think of them, “they mostly kept you for observation, but are you feeling okay? Should I get the nurse—“ 
And he’s pulling you into a hug, arms wrapping around you, as he sighs, burying his face in your neck, “I just want to stay like this for a while,” he murmurs, “I got everything I need right here, got it?” He feels you nod, and he feels the hint of your tears on his skin, but says nothing, only his lips quirk, “you did mean your promise?” 
“I did, I won’t leave like that again,” and he’s leaning back, head tilted, and you chuckle, “I mean I won’t leave you at all, how’s that?” 
“Good girl,” he murmurs, leaning closer, and his heart squeezes when he hears your breath hitch as he does. His eyes flicker to your lips and back, “can I kiss—“ 
But you kiss him first, softly, your fingers brushing his cheek, and god, why was it that a single touch from you melted him away to nothing? Whittled his world view to a pin where all he could feel, all he could see, was you. 
And then you kiss his cheeks, his chin, his jaw, and then your teeth graze the soft part of his neck, drawing a pretty gasp from his lips, as you suck lightly on his skin. 
He’s whispering your name, breath sucked from his lungs as if your teeth had pierced through his throat instead of just his skin, “what was that for?” 
And you smile, “so everyone knows you’re mine.” 
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“You’re changing your major?” Suguru raises his eyebrow, as he lounges on Satoru’s couch, holding his head up with his elbow propped against the top of the couch, “your father must’ve been thrilled about that,” 
“He lost his shit, but that geezer can fuck off,” Satoru shrugs, “he threatened to not pay my tuition, but once I threatened to go public with his dealings with the yakuza, he saw it my way,” 
Suguru tilts his head, “His what?” 
You bring over tea from the kitchen, placing it on the table, “After what Satoru found out from Yumiko and her father, their debt to the yakuza would have been paid off by kidnapping one of Satoru’s father’s close relatives, but I was wondering why was the yakuza so eager to do so?” 
“Apparently my old man had the brilliant idea of entertaining the yakuza on some deal he was making,” Satoru explains, leaning back on the couch, as you sit against his legs, “and when he backed out, the yakuza wanted to push it through anyway — and well, thus their blackmail of Yumiko’s father, once they found out his daughter went to school with me.” 
“Yeah, turns out her father had gambling debts owed to the yakuza,” you sighed, “she got caught in the crossfire — I almost feel bad,” 
“Speak for yourself, she drugged me, tied me to a chair, and held a knife to my face,” Satoru scoffs, sipping his tea that he had you drown in sugar. 
“Well you didn’t complain when I did that last night,” you reply, making both Satoru and Suguru choke, and you laughed, squealing when Satoru lifts you into his lap to bury his face into your back. 
“You two are officially sickening to be around,” Suguru grimaces, still coughing from choking down his tea, “I think I liked it better when he was wasting away in his apartment,” 
“You wasted away after I left?” You turn to look at Satoru, who shoots a glare at Suguru, “sorry Geto, that’s not happening again,” and Satoru softens his gaze, pressing a kiss to your head. 
“Alright, that’s it, I’m leaving,” Suguru gets to his feet, as he glances back at you two, “don’t rush to get up, I’ll see myself out,” he rolls his eyes. 
“Don’t worry we weren’t going to,” Satoru pulls you closer, and Suguru narrows his eyes, before his lips curl into a grin. 
“Just for that, I’m sending your girlfriend a picture of the mess you looked like when she left,” Satoru gapes at him, while you bite back a laugh. 
“Suguru!” Satoru calls, but the door’s shut, and you’re starting to giggle. He’s pouting now, “so my girlfriend thinks it's funny to see me in the pathetic state she left me in?” 
“Oh your girlfriend finds it very funny, and she might even make it her boyfriend’s contact picture,” you smirk, and he’s biting back a smile, “What?” 
“This is just the first time we called each other that,” he mumbles, a slight dusting of pink on his cheeks, “it’s nice,” he admits. 
“Well, I am yours, aren’t I?” you smile, and he presses a kiss to your lips, as he would again and again. 
“My one and only.” 
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✧ a/n: so this fic was so freaking long. i'm sorry it took so long to post this - i got a little sidetracked by prof geto haha. but i'm hoping to start on the next one soon :). i think i'll put a poll up on which one i should write next! edit: forgot to tag the people who requested this, its now added in T_T
✧ taglist: @teatreeoilll, @intrxspectiv, @marvel-fanaticz, @ilovemybabes, @lwustyz, @jayathelostdragon, @vampzys, @sleazymac-n-cheesy, @soilmayo, @iwassentfromhell, @lobotomy-kaisen, @gojoallmine, @forest-hashira, @h3artpiecexx, @lailarratx, @gummibat, @hanlay, @ilovewoo9, @nvmlolo, @h6avenly, @eriyvesa, @alexandraioann4, @eclipsephase, @sokkasmoon, @aizzon, @makotome9, @daddytojji, @fluffy-pancakes01, @imjustmememe, @spookyy-gracee, @forest-fruits-jam, @that-goth-bisexual, @hatsunemitskislobotomy, @lookinreality,
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kitten4sannie · 2 months
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backstage bukakke with ateez ♡
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a/n: is anyone in need of post coachella performance brainrot?? :33 and if any of you were wondering,, no i’m not okay 🙂‍↔️🫶🏼 without further ado, here’s a LOT more backstage debauchery (like i went insane….i should be in a padded cell rn….) except this time san brought the whole crew to help drown you in cum <333 enjoy the meal my dears bc i can never show my face in public again after this 😭😭
w.c: 2.4k
warnings: alcohol use, subby fem manager! reader, free use, domteez, gangbang, who’s the biggest menace here? that’s for you to decide 🫵🏼, this is just complete filth btw,, dirty talk, degradation/praise, pet names/name calling, so much cum….., yungi confirm the big cock allegations, hongjoong might have a captain kink idk, double penetration, anal, implied sloppy seconds/thirds/fourths kskssb, brief tit play, brief oral, cum eating, size kink, bulge kink, breeding, creampies for days, a bukakke as promised <3
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Once the members sent out their last waves and finger hearts to the adoring fans and locals in the vast festival crowd, they made their way back to their temporary dressing room to catch their breath and have a celebratory drink or two. Brimming with adrenaline and energy due to their momentous performance, they erupted in enthusiastic greetings as soon as their dear manager entered the room, a few of them draping their arms around your shoulders to give you a quick hug.
“Manager-nim, did you like the show?” San spoke up, bringing his glass up to his mouth, taking a small sip of the potent liquor.
“You know you can just call me by my name, San, and I thought you guys absolutely killed it, like always,” you replied, scanning their faces, lightly adjusting the hem of your work blazer. No matter how many times you had all of their eyes and attention on you, you couldn’t seem to get used to it. It always made you feel hot under the collar, not knowing what was going through each of their minds when they looked at you the way they did. With interest. Hunger.
San couldn’t help but smirk, his dimples visible. You had taken the bait. He watched Yunho serve you a glass of whiskey. “You’re right. We’re way past titles, aren’t we? Especially considering the way I had you bent over for me right after our set last weekend.”
You choked on the liquor, your body suddenly feeling hot, especially under the heated gaze of the men standing around you. “S-San, behave yourself.”
He lightly licked at his lips, his gaze sharpening, ready to add to the growing heaviness of the atmosphere in the room. “Don’t act so coy now, sweetheart. You know better than that, don’t you?”
You bit into your bottom lip, looking up to Yunho for help, only to find that he was giving you an increasingly perverse smile, like he was reminiscing about something filthy.
Yunho reached down to wrap a lock of your hair around his jewelry adorned finger, sighing, “We could all hear the way Sannie fucked your brains out, doll, but you wanted us to hear, didn’t you? Even though you’re our manager, you’re still our good little slut, yeah?”
Something clicked into place inside your brain like it usually did when they talked to you like this. You could finally stop being so uptight and in control, instead allowing the eager members to do as they pleased with you. “Yeah, I am,” you nodded shyly, your insides on fire.
San took a step towards you, reaching out to run his fingers along your collar bone. “Can I ask you something?”
Your breath caught inside your throat. You knew what he was going to ask. You knew what they wanted. Despite the professional relationship you had with the members, you always seemed to end up in increasingly unprofessional situations with them. You couldn’t help it, not when they always made you feel so good. Wanted. Craved. “Say it, San….”
His pointer finger drifted down your chest, along the seam of your blazer, gazing down at you. “Can we make you our whore, Manager-nim?”
The members exchanged pleased glances with one another, some of them pulling at the crotch of their tailored pants.
“As long as someone locks the door, okay?” you answered underneath your breath, your eyes beginning to glaze over with lust.
San simply took a step around you, running his hands up and down your shoulders, coaxing you out of your blazer and unzipping your work dress, presenting you to his beloved members like you were a treat — one they would savor together.
-
“Don’t pass out on us now, baby,” San’s husky voice attempted to reach you through the fog you were in, his fingers gently rubbing at the fresh load that had splattered onto your flushed cheek, sliding his digits into your panting mouth for you to clean. “How many was that, hm? How many cocks have been inside you so far? Can our slutty manager remember?”
You stopped counting long ago, too fucked out to think about whose cock had already rearranged your insides and who had stuffed your ass full. You couldn’t even remember who had fucked your face either, but your sore jaw was proof that it was most likely one of the more gifted members. “I-i don’t know how many, just want more,” you whined out, looking up at San past your wet lashes.
“Yeah, you always want more from us, don’t you, baby? Want us to go to our limit? Want us to give you our all, huh? Are you going to milk us all dry like a good slut?”
You could hardly listen to his breathy, self-serving monologue, not with the way Wooyoung was gripping your hips and shoving his thick cock into you with abandon, like you were his own personal sex doll. “Uh-huh, wanna be good for you all…”
“How precious,” San sighed under his breath, all while he jerked himself off, beads of pre-cum spilling out of the twitching tip, watching the way his closest friend pumped himself in and out of your clenching hole, noticing the way his hips began to stutter. “Then, be good and take Wooyoung’s load inside that tight little cunt of yours, just like you took our Captain’s and Seonghwa’s earlier, okay? Can you do that for us, baby? Can you be our pretty little cum dump?”
You couldn’t speak, simply responding by squirting all over Wooyoung’s thrusting cock, just about ready to fall over from the overwhelming pleasure, but unable to with the way Mingi was behind you, his heaving chest pressing into your back, his ringed fingers lazily groping at your sore tits, balls-deep in your tight ass.
“Pretty baby, our pretty girl,” Mingi praised in a gravelly voice, his lips against your ear, squeezing your tits just as his groans began to crescendo, driving himself into you a few more times before he held still, previous loads leaking out of your ass and down the sides of his veined cock to the base as he filled you up again. “Can you feel that, babydoll? Feel the way I’m stuffing you full of cum? It feels so good, you want to cry, don’t you?”
All you could do was nod drunkenly, tears pricking at the corners of your hazy eyes, your trembling thighs growing more and more numb.
“Look at her, guys, she’s cumming just from being bred,” Wooyoung panted out, his hands squeezing into your sides, holding you still on his pulsing cock, not attempting to pull out until he was sure your inner walls were coated with his cum, chuckling smugly along with his fellow members at the way you desperately drew in another shaky breath and simply whined instead of forming words. “Poor slut can’t even talk. Someone should shoot their load down her throat. Maybe it’ll help ground her.”
“Way ahead of you,” Yeosang softly interjected, giving you a princely smile as he walked up to where you were positioned on the lengthy couch. He ran his slender fingers through your hair, slowly angling your head back as he did, bringing his slicked-up cockhead to your parted lips. “Say ‘ahh’, darling.”
Just as you obeyed, you watched Yeosang’s pretty flushed face contort in pleasure, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his pulsing length, milking it for all it’s worth, rope after rope of hot cum shooting into the back of your throat, a few dribbles remaining on your tongue. You were so full of cum, all of your holes were used up, and yet you needed more. “Not enough…More, please. I’m being such a good girl, aren’t I?”
San’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip, sharing glances with the other members, squeezing around the base of his cock to keep himself from busting right then and there. “Guys, I think we broke our manager.”
“Isn’t that the point? Look at her. She loves it,” Wooyoung pointed out, motioning to your blissed-out face, before he finally pulled out of you, reaching down to spread open your used hole, pleased sighs echoing inside the room. “Look, Sannie, her cunt’s all messy now. Ran through. Just the way you like it, huh, you sick fuck? You want sloppy seconds?”
San nodded his head, salivating, practically in a trance.
“Then, hurry up and shove your cock inside her before my cum leaks out,” Wooyoung tsked, climbing off of the cum-stained couch and smacking his hand against San’s ass to get him to spring into action, which he did, laying down on his back and sliding you down onto his cock inch by inch, but not before he tapped his leaking cockhead over your swollen clit a few times for good measure.
San’s dimples accompanied his shit-eating grin as he bottomed out, slowly running one of his hands up your lower abdomen to feel the outline of his stiff cock. “It’s so big inside, isn’t it, Manager-nim? Am I stretching you out nice and wide?”
All you could do was whimper pathetically, because not only were you taking San’s curved cock inside your cunt, but meanwhile Mingi had been showing Yunho the way your hole had begun to gape after the rough treatment you had taken, especially from someone with his size, knowing it was best that he prepped you for his best friend, knowing the term ‘horse cock’ didn’t even begin to describe what Yunho had to offer you. “It’s all for you, bro. Come and get it,” Mingi mused huskily, getting out of Yunho’s way so that he could replace him, one hand on your ass to keep it spread open for everyone’s viewing pleasure, as your hole slowly swallowed up Yunho’s obscene girth.
San and Yunho seemed to be in the middle of an intense competition, considering the way they both would continually thrust into you harder, and faster, grabbing at your tits and hips for leverage to fuck into you even deeper than before, if that was possible. “I-it’s not a–fuck–race, guys,” you cried out, suddenly being pressed back into Yunho’s warm chest when San sat up on the couch and folded you up, jack-hammering himself into you, using you like a cocksleeve. 
“Yes, it is, and I’m gonna knock you up first, not this loser,” San grunted out in between shaky moans, smiling with his canines at you, then at Yunho past your shoulder, who responded by bucking his hips up into you so roughly, he had to wrap his arms around your middle to keep you in place. 
“I’m fucking her ass, dumbass, I can’t even knock her up if I wanted to,” Yunho replied breathlessly, shaking his head, giving San a playful smile, before pressing his lips to your earlobe. “And I want to, tiny. Wish I could.” 
“Not with that attitude,” San huffed, blowing his sweaty bangs out of his eyes, his vision beginning to blur with the sudden onset of pleasure surging through him. “I’m going to fucking–unnnh–fill up your slutty cunt with my cum, baby. Gonna make it so messy. And you’re, fuck, you’re so tight now. That’s our good cumslut.” 
“The perfect cumslut,” Hongjoong interrupted in a low voice, suddenly towering over you, holding his cock near your mouth, nodding approvingly when you began to suck and lick at the tip. “That’s right. You love Captain’s cock the most, don’t you, pretty girl?” 
Seonghwa pushed his way past the other thirsty members who were hovering around you like vultures, slipping his fingers into your hair and gently guiding you to his own cock, cooing at you approvingly when you let it hit the back of your throat. He smiled smugly at Hongjoong, who was now side-eyeing him. “Stay mad. It’s not my fault she has taste.” 
“You better watch it, Seonghwa.”
“You can watch our slut suck my cock.” 
Hongjoong grumbled to himself, reaching down to tug your head back just firmly enough to lead you back to his cock, before you took it upon yourself to sandwich their lengths together so that you could please them both at once. They stopped bickering and instead held onto each other, biting into their lips as their highs began to take over. 
It was then that San and Yunho emitted similar sounding guttural groans, fully sheathing themselves inside you, their fingers squeezing tightly into your hips from either side. 
“Cumming,” they both exhaled, resting their heads on either side of your shoulder, beads of sweat dripping down their jaws and along their straining necks. 
Just as hot cum poured into both of your used holes, Seonghwa and Hongjoong began to shudder and grunt out obscenities, aiming their milky streams towards your lolled-out tongue.
San suddenly waved for Jongho to come closer, pulling out just enough so that obscene globs of cum began to leak out of you, making you whine. “Here, cum inside her, JJong. I want my favorite maknae to finish our cumslut off.”
Jongho gingerly positioned himself near your gushing entrance and plugged you back up with his thick, throbbing cock, his strong thighs smacking into your delicate ones as he vigorously bounced you on his lap. “Want it?” he simply asked near your lips, making you blush.
“Please!”
Just as Jongho pounded his load and the others deep into your womb, Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Mingi pushed their way closer to you, vigorously jerking themselves off in order to leave their own individual mark on you for the second or third time, extremely pleased with themselves once they covered their dear manager’s face and body in their cum. 
Once you all came down, you found that you couldn’t quite operate your body properly, not when your lower half was completely numb and throbbing with residual pleasure. San and Yunho took it upon themselves to cuddle you from either side, while Jongho gently rubbed your tummy in circles, wondering whose load would knock you up first. Only time would tell.
“How was that?” San asked softly near your ear. 
“We weren’t too rough with you, were we?” Yunho murmured, biting his lip. 
“How are you feeling, Manager-nim?” Jongho added gently, patting your tummy.
You sighed gently, reaching up to pat their heads, smiling at the men around you. And to think you actually got paid for this. You couldn’t have asked for a better job. “Guys…I’m fine, and for the record, it was so good, I don’t think I can ever go back to having normal sex again. I’m a bit concerned, actually.”
The rest of the members began to laugh, and you joined along, before clearing your throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortably sticky, looking down to see what you had all done to the poor couch. “Okay, so, who’s going to clean this mess up? And, it’s not going to be me. I can’t move my legs. I…think you guys actually broke me.”
San looked over to Wooyoung, who was already rolling his eyes, pointing dramatically at him. “I told you!”
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Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡
© kitten4sannie, 2024.
2K notes · View notes
theautisticwriter · 4 months
Text
Love Letters: Yandere! Hazbin Hotel characters X G/N Reader
Characters- Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty, Sir Pentious, Lucifer Morningstar, Vox
Show- Hazbin Hotel
Genre- yandere, romantic
Summary- Mini love letters from your not so secret stalkers admirers!
Warnings- yandere themes, swearing, stalking, virtual stalking, threats, unwanted attention, delusional characters, mentions of planned kidnapping, pet names
Word count- 1.7k
Extra notes- Alastor’s part is platonic, he’s platonically in love with you!
key: n/n = nickname, y/n = your name, g/n = gender neutral
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Hi N/n!
Oh my gosh, it’s been so long since i’ve sent you a letter! I’m so sorry! The hotel has been sooooooooo busy! But don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about you, how could I? You’re all I think about!
I’m excited to tell you i’ve been decorating your room at the hotel! Of course, when you come here you can redecorate if you wish to! Whatever makes you the happiest sweetie! Or, you could even share my room!
I can’t wait to come get you, I really do think you’ll like it here. We’ve all worked so hard to make this place as welcoming as possible, and you’ll warm up to the other residents and staff after a little bit of time! They can be a bit much at the beginning, but don’t worry your pretty little head, I wouldn’t put you in danger. The hotel is super safe, especially now that my dad is helping too!
Please write back, at least once? You haven’t responded to any of my letters, and Razzle told me you kept throwing them out ☹. Unless you use your trash can as extra storage, I’m not sure why all my letters keep ending up there!
Nevertheless, I’ll retrieve all the letters when you move in, and we can look through them together and reminisce about our adorable beginnings.
Yours truly,
Charlie Morningstar!! ༘⋆-ˋˏ
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Dear Y/n,
I understand that these letters started to freak you out, and that’s why I haven’t sent any in a while, but I felt like I needed to continue writing to you. It’s our only way of communication right now, so until you move into the hotel, this will have to do.
It’s hard to write down my feelings for you, I can’t ever seem to find the right words which must be why you didn’t understand that these are love letters. I’m not some creepy guy trying to kidnap you, I love you and want to finally bring you home as soon as possible.
Charlie is still working out the details of your stay, but she’ll be finished soon, I promise. Would you like your own room or to share mine? If you write back, we could discuss your personal preference towards the rooming situation?
You’ll get used to this, to us, soon enough. I have no ill intent towards you, I’m the only person in this shithole that actually cares about you and your safety. I can keep you safe, I can, I will.
I’ll see you soon, y/n.
Stay safe,
Vaggie
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Salutations, Dearest!
Aren’t letters just marvellous? Texting and calling is merely a phase, the “old fashioned way” as sinners call it, is the only correct way. It shows effort, thought and has a charm to it that this technology nonsense lacks immensely.
You’ll be with me soon, and once you are we’ll get rid of all your electronic devices. Radio will be enough to keep you entertained, I assure you my dear. It would be such a treat if you tuned into one of my broadcasts, since you are the only viewer I wish to listen. You could listen to me, whilst I watch you, how splendid!
As much as this hazbin hotel is doomed to fail, I do believe it is a safe residency for us to stay at for the time being. Your current accommodation is far too lacking in the security department, from personal experience, I can confirm it is quite easy to get inside. Of course, I can get anywhere you are no matter what you or anyone else tries to do, but I didn’t even have to try! That’s no good, now is it?
Don’t fret, my dear. All will be well once you’re under my official protection and guidance. Nothing will get in our way, you have my word.
The radio demon,
A̰̠̼͚̗̫̳ͥ͐̆̃̄͑̊̈̕͝l̳̤̲͗͆ą̺̝̺͚̔̔̄ş̴̠͓̞̹̀͋ͯ̀ͣͫ_̧̩t̺͈ͩ̎͒͒ͅơ̵̢̧̫͇̦̫͇̟̰̯̞̝̻͇͍̯̩͕̌ͪ̀͋ͧ͗̏ͥͥ̇ͦͯ͗̀ͫ̏̽̈̚͡͞r
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Hey, n/n!
You deleted all your socials, what gives?? You’re making me write letters now? I mean, i’m not against letters, they’re real romantic and shit, but dming you was so much easier babe. Was some fucker harassing you? I’ll torture the shit out of them, just give me a name toots.
Anyways, it’s not like it really matters, letters and texting, we’ll be SPEAKING in person pretty soon ;) I can’t wait to see that gorgeous face right in front of my (equally gorgeous) face. This face makes money baby, money that I can drown you in. Whatever you want, i’ve got you covered. Isn’t that exciting? Something to look forward to for you, besides living with me, which is a huge upgrade from your shitty house right now
Fat nuggets (our pet pig btw) can’t wait to meet you! He’s real cuddly, as am I, so don’t ever worry about feeling lonely with us here. Our room is filled with soft fluffy crap, all yours for the taking!
I’ll see you soon cutie,
Your Angel Dust 𓆩♡𓆪
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To Y/n,
This is a fucking hassle, writing letters, you know that? You need to quit whining and come down to this shitty hotel before I come bring you here myself. It’s not so bad here, once you get used to it. And the people are fucking annoying, but they mean well. Unlike those dicks you hang around with, I don’t trust them, and trust me, I can spot a prick with my eyes closed.
I’ve rented you a room in the hotel, next door to mine. I paid with my own fucking money, which I earned at this stupid bar, so be grateful. I could of bought a lot of booze with that cash, but I saved it up for you. Niffty cleaned it real nice for you, so stop taking so long. You have two more days before I start moving your shit.
Hate me all you want, it’s for your own good. People don’t often realise what they need, but I’m a bartender, I know people more than they think. And I know you more than anyone else.
Two days, y/n.
Regards,
Husker 𑁤
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Hihi!!!!!!!!
It’s Niffty! You know that though, right? Nobody else is sending you letters right y/n??!?!! Tell me they aren’t, tell me i’m the only girl in hell who’s sending you love letters!! Alastor said it’s the most romantic thing to do for someone sweet like you, so if anyone else is that means they like you! >:(((
I like you n/n! I like you more than anyone else does, I pinky swear it!!
Your house needs a clean, I came in last night through your window and did your kitchen real good, but then you woke up and I had to go :(( Your room at the hotel is sooo super clean, because I clean it every 3 hours to make sure there’s no bugs. I eat them for you, don’t worry n/n.
It’s gonna be sooo fun when you move in with me, we’re gonna do so much together! I’ve made you a crown too!!
Niffty :DDD
P.S, I hope you like the ant I stuck to the envelope, I picked him just for you!
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My beloved Y/n,
It has been far too long since we last corresponded, my sincerest apologises. How are you? I hope the answer is well, but how could you be without your prince beside you? I am restless without you as i’m sure you are without me. I’ll fix this little problem, not to worry! I am worthy of your affections, I’ll prove it to you til the end of my afterlife. Which is infinite! Because I am very brave, and incredibly powerful!
My attempts to join the overlords are not going as planned, but once again, do not fear my love! In a few years we shall rule side by side! My minions are excited to meet you, they will guard you with their pathetic little lives and answer your every call! Unless you asked to leave, they won’t let you do that, but you wouldn’t ask that! You’ll be happy with me, right?
Right?
Please I needyouineedyouineedyou
Haha, ignore that scribble! The eggs pushed my arm whilst I was writing.
I’ll see you soon my dearest,
Yours forever,
Sir Pentious (your future husband and future overlord)
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My Y/n,
How are you doing sweetheart? I’m doing great, yes, totally, I’m always great! I’m the king of hell! What’s there to be depressed about? Everything Nothing at all, everything’s perfect my end! It would be much better with you by my side however, what do you think? I think so.
I can give you anything you want, do anything you want, be anything you want! I can give you everything, and you can give me, well, you! Your hand in unholy marriage, your smile. Anything you want to give me, I’ll adore.
Sorry, that’s awfully sappy isn’t it? Do you like that sort of thing? I hope so, I hope you’re feeling valued by my words and my letters. I haven’t gotten one back yet, which is totally okay! You’re probables super busy, and that’s okay! You can tell me everything you want to when I bring you to my palace (that’s where we will live, it’s big, and very expensive, i’m rich by the way)
Anywho, my daughter needs my help today at her little hotel, so I’ll send this to you before I go. Charlie will love you, and you’ll love her. And me
Forever and always yours,
Lucifer (I’m a king by the way :P)
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N/n,
This letter in itself is a sign of how much I care about you, because I do not write letters to people. Throwing out all your electronics and the cameras I put in your house hasn’t helped your little rebellion. I’ll just have to get you sooner than planned, which isn’t a problem for me. I was hoping to court you for longer, but you’ve pressed my buttons sweetheart.
You were very thorougher with your search for all the tech in your house, you got everything. Which i’ll give you credit babe, is impressive considering how much I put in there. Who knew you were so smart? It’s almost cute, if it wasn’t so hopeless.
I’m not sorry for what’s to come, my methods aren’t moral but, hey, who the fuck is moral down here? I am sorry for the emotional distress you’ll endure, but it must be done. You’ll get over it, i’ll make sure of it.
By the time this reaches you, I’ll be outside. Make sure you answer the door for me, kay?
𝕍𝕠𝕩
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1K notes · View notes
worldlxvlys · 4 months
Text
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mine
chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: smutttt, overstimulation, p in v, spanking, degradation, overstimulation, use of safeword, oral (fem receiving), breeding kink, unprotected sex, squirting, cream pie
a/n: i combined theseeee, hope you likeee :)
for bae @hearts4chriss <333
“chris, what is the fucking problem?” i asked him.
“the problem is that he obviously wants you and you were egging him on” he said as i reached down to take off my heels.
“egging him on?” i raised my voice. “in what fucking world is me ignoring him egging him on ?” i narrowed my eyes at him.
“you didn’t tell him to stop at all, you just let him hang all over you” i started to walk to our room, chris following closely behind me.
“that’s not fucking true” i said, starting to get annoyed with the fighting.
“chris this is stupid, we can sit here and argue about whether i entertained his shit or not , but it doesn’t really matter in the end. you’re here, not him, ok?” i said.
“no, it’s not ok” he said as we entered our bedroom. he pulled his shirt off.
“look, chris. i don’t know what you want me to say. you obviously have your mind made up and won’t believe me anyway” i said as i reached behind me, unzipping my dress.
he pulled his pants off as i continued, “let’s just go to sleep, and in the morning we can-“ i began but was cut off by chris pushing his lips to mine.
“i don’t like going to bed mad at you, baby. you know that” he whispered against my lips.
he then pushed me back gently, making me fall onto the bed. he smoothly crawled onto the bed, hovering over me.
“tell me what you’re thinking” he whispered, as he began to leave kisses trailing down my neck.
i weaved my hand through his hair, sighing out.
“i- fuck, chris. i don’t know, it’s just frustrating that you won’t believe me” i sighed out.
“oh, i believe you baby” he spoke into my skin. “just think you need a reminder of who you belong to” he said, his hand slipping into the waistband of my panties.
he collected my wetness, spreading it around before pushing one of his fingers inside of me.
“fuck, chris”
“can i remind you?” he asked, before placing his mouth on one of my tits.
my head fell back into the pillows, my mind already hazy as he thrusted his finger into me.
“can’t talk, baby ? haven’t even fuck you yet and you’re already acting dumb ?” he asked, slowing his movements, making me whine.
“look at you, so desperate. use your words, baby. do you want this ?”
“yes, chris, please” i whined.
“yeah? you sure you don’t want him to fuck you? you don’t want his fingers inside of you?”
he added another finger, quickening his movements.
“i’m sure! i’m sure, chris”
he curled his fingers, and i felt them brush my g-spot.
“fuck, chris!” i moaned out.
he placed his lips on mine, continuing to move his fingers expertly inside of me.
“i can feel you clenching around my fingers, baby. you close ?”
me eyes were squeezed shut as i nodded my head.
“tell me, baby. were you thinking about this when you put on that short ass dress earlier ?”
he pulled his fingers out for a second, before rubbing my clit through my panties.
“what about these panties, baby? you know they’re my favorite. you put them on for me?”
he asked before pushing his fingers back in, moving them even quicker this time.
“yes, yes chris just for-“ i started but was cut off by my own orgasm.
“chris! fuckkkk” i moaned out, holding onto his arm as pleasure washed over my body.
“such a little slut, coming in your panties like that.”
he brought his hand to his face, looking me in the eyes and licking my juices off of them, making me moan.
“you taste so good, baby. need more” he said before flipping me over.
i stuck my ass in the air, shaking it in a circle.
“fuck, yes baby. you know how much i love that ass” he said, striking his palm against both cheeks a few times.
i moaned at the slight sting, relishing in the way he massaged and grabbed my ass.
“you’re such a little freak, you’d do anything to get off, huh ?” he asked before leaving kisses on my lower back, slowly pulling my panties down.
while he slid the fabric down, he left kisses in its wake.
he licked the cum that was smeared on my skin from my previous orgasm.
“whose all this cum for, huh? who’d you make this mess for?”
“you, chris. only you” i said as i moaned out.
his tongue moved across my folds in an organized manner, and i realized he was spelling something.
M-I-N-E
“just in case you forgot” he said before attaching his lips back to my soaking heat.
he attacked my clit with his tongue, sucking and licking while the tip of his nose dug into my folds.
“oh my gosh, chris” i spoke into the pillows, grasping the sheets in my hands.
he brought his hand to my wetness, pushing two fingers into my sopping hole.
“shit!” i yelled out in surprise.
he moved his face off of me for a second, continuing to fuck me with his fingers.
“ i want you to remember this the next time you decide you want to act like a whore” he said, slapping my ass with his free hand.
“god, chris” i cried out.
“yeah, you might want to say a prayer, baby. i’m nowhere near finished with you” he said as he added another finger, stretching me out with his fingers.
he brought his mouth back to my clit, sucking and slurping like a madman.
“chris! chris! i’m gonna cum!” i whined out.
“already? you’re so fucking dirty. you love it when i treat you like a slut , huh ?” he asked condescendingly.
i didn’t answer, too wrapped up in the strange feeling that was developing in my stomach.
“don’t tell me you’ve lost your voice already, baby. i know you’ve been screaming and whining like a little bitch, but you should still be able to talk”
he caressed my ass, before pulling his hand back and slapping it hard.
“FUCK CHRIS! HOLY SHITTTT” i screamed in a shaky voice.
“there she is, my dirty girl. that feel good?”
“fuck yes, chris. please don’t stop” i said, my eyes tearing up from the burning feeling his hand brought to my skin.
he slapped my ass a few more times and i was gone.
“CHRIS! I’M GONNA-“ i cut myself off with a loud squeal as i squirted onto chris’s face.
“holy shit, ma. you really liked that, huh?” he asked, continuing to move his fingers inside of me.
“chris! oh my gosh” i whined as my legs began to shake.
he added another finger in, damn near fisting my pussy.
“i- chris! i’m so s-sensitive” i cried out, squeezing my eyes closed and hands gripping the sheets for dear life.
“how does it feel?” he asked as he continued to pump his fingers into me.
“f-feels good, but-“
“then shut up and take it” he said in a low, raspy voice.
my hips twitched, unintentionally increasing the friction and speed of his fingers inside of me.
i reached behind me, trying to feel for his arm and slow his movements.
he quickly caught onto this, and grabbed my arm with his free one, holding it behind my back.
“none of that, baby. if you need me to stop, you know what to say. do you need to stop?”
i shook my head frantically into the pillows, unable to form sentences.
“what are you, five? use your fucking words.” he said as he kept up his bruising pace.
“NO! chris please just- i can’t- FUCK!” i screamed out.
he was driving me insane. i couldn’t even think properly, completely overtaken by pleasure.
without warning, my juices shot out onto the sheets, making me scream.
“ohhhhh my- shittttt” my eyebrows furrowed as he continued to finger me.
my juices just kept spilling out of me, seemingly pleasing chris, as he continued to push his fingers into me.
he pulled his boxers down far enough to free his dick, and he wasted no time in pushing himself inside of my dripping pussy.
i barely had time to catch my breath as he began to pound himself into me.
my legs gave out underneath me, and i fell flat onto the mattress.
chris adjusted himself, placing his knees on the bed and fucking into me from above me.
my jaw hung open, nothing coming out as i couldn’t even make sound anymore.
my throat was scratchy from my previous screaming as i laid there and let chris continue to rock his hips into mine.
he picked up on my silence, quickly checking in on me.
“still feeling good, ma ?” he asked as he let go of the arm that he was holding behind my back.
“yes, chris. keep going” i sighed out.
“good. gonna stuff that pretty pussy with my cum, ok?”
“fuck yes” i moaned out.
despite him stretching me out earlier, my walls still squeezed around his cock, it was a snug fit.
“god, you’re so fucking tight. feel so good ma”
suddenly, another orgasm washed over me, and i released all over his cock.
“fuckkkkk” i whined as chris groaned.
“shit, ma. you take me so fucking well” he said, staring down at where our bodies met in a trance.
his cock twitched inside of me, and i knew what that meant.
“c’mon chris, know you’re close. need you to fill me up, baby. fuck your cum into me” i moaned out.
this seemed to send him over the edge, as he let out a long, deep groan before shooting his load inside of me.
“god, you’re such a fucking freak. talking to me like that” he moaned as he pulled out of me, watching his cum start to drip out.
he didn’t let it drip down far, before he pushed his seed back into me with his dick.
“fuck” i whimpered out as my eyes rolled into the back of my head.
every one of my senses were heightened as he picked up his pace, slamming into me.
my hearing went in and out and my eyes were slightly puffy from all of the crying i was doing.
he lifted my hips, placing his hand on my stomach and reaching down to rub figure eights on my clit.
“c-chris” it was too much.
“red, red, red ” i sighed out, needing a minute to collect myself.
he immediately halted his movements and pulled out of me.
i rolled myself over, laying on my back and staring at the ceiling.
“shit, are you-“ i stopped him before he could finish his question, knowing he would probably start freaking out.
“chris, i’m fine. you didn’t do anything, i swear. i’m just tired” i said as i brought my hand to his face, cupping his jaw.
“are you sure? did i hurt you?” he asked, giving my body a glance.
“i’m ok, chris” i said as he placed a kiss on my head.
“ok, here” he said as he got up, grabbing a water bottle off of the nightstand for me.
“stay here” he said as he disappeared into the bathroom for a little while.
when he came back, he made his way over to me.
“i ran you a bath, baby. come on” he gently spoke to me.
“chris, you didn’t have to”
“i know” he kissed my cheek. “but i want to take care of you, ma” he said as he helped me to the bathroom.
he spent the rest of the night doing just that, helping me to wash up and relax.
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i didn’t know how to end it 🌚
but yeah hopefully i did your requests justice <33
masterlist
tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sturnspepsi @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @sturns-posts @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf
1K notes · View notes
exhaslo · 2 months
Text
Over-Time Ch3
(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)
Ch1, Ch2
Warning: MINORS DNI, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff
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"On behalf of those of us at Alchemax, we would like to welcome you to our company. Please arrive at the Human Resources floor tomorrow with the information sent via email. We are happy to have you join us."
The shudder in your voice as you resisted the urge to squeal was sharp. You were at your current job, trying to hide from the crowd outside. This phone call was important, you told everyone that, and you were glad you took it.
"(Y/N)! GET OUT HERE WE NEED YOUR CLUMSY ASS!"
You yelped towards your coworker. Tears threatening to spill towards their harsh tone. Luckily you had just finished the phone call. How cruel could they be?
Hurrying back onto the floor, you yelped as another coworker tossed you a bunch of orders. Hurrying towards you station, you tried your best to make the orders but the pressure was getting to you. Everyone's yelling and the pace was too much.
"Strawberries, (Y/N)! Not Blackberries! Damn!"
"S-Sorry," You whimpered.
You hated working here. You hated this job, but this was the only place that could hire you fresh out of college. Everywhere you really wanted to work claimed that you didn't have enough work experience. Well how the hell were you supposed to get that if they didn't give you a shot?
"Hey, goofball, you're taking my shift tomorrow."
"H-Huh?!" You questioned, spilling the drink you were making, "Ah! No, no-"
"It's from 7am to 2pm."
"I-I can't!" You stuttered, trying to clean the mess you made, "I-I have s-something....something important to do!"
"Well change your plans, I already told the manager that you're taking my shift, goofball." Your coworker snapped before bumping into you, "Stop fucking up the drinks!"
You were biting the inside of your cheek as you tried your best to hold back your tears. You weren't going to let your cruel coworkers ruin your chance at a better life. You weren't going to deal with them anymore after today.
You just had to finish your shift.
And never look back.
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You woke up early for Alchemax. Triple checked all of your paperwork and identification. This was the most prepared you were ever going to be. You had blocked your current job from calling you so they wouldn't stress you out.
You even had some time to bake a small 'thank you' cake for Miguel, if you got the chance to see him. You were truly grateful for his help in getting you here. Hopefully it won't look weird on your end. This was just your way of thanking someone.
Once you arrived, you went up to the Human Resources floor to submit your information. As you waited, you focused on the elevator and saw Lyla step out.
"Ah, there you are." Lyla chirped, approaching you.
It was night and day from when you saw her during the interview. She was much more peppy than before.
"G-Good...morning," You whispered, feeling slightly nervous as to why she was looking for you.
"Is all her paperwork done?" Lyla asked the front desk lady, "Perfect, (Y/N), grab your stuff and follow me. I'm going to show you around~"
"Oh....Thank you,"
This felt strange. As you collected all of your things, you hurried behind Lyla. She was so nice and friendly. You weren't used to this, so it was a nice change of pace.
"Now that you're officially hired with us, you'll be getting paid for your time here today. I'm going to show you around the building first, then your station. I'm sure you'll love working here~!"
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Miguel grunted lowly as Lyla abandoned him during an important meeting. She wanted to meet you personally, leaving Miguel to suffer with the wolves. Miguel had very little patience with these men and now it was going to get worse.
Once the meeting was over, Miguel hurried back to his office. He needed a drink. There was only so much stupid and ignorance that he could deal with. Being a CEO was difficult. The patience that Miguel had to show was honestly a talent.
"This is the cafeteria! We have a large selection of goods here,"
Miguel could hear Lyla's voice from one of this monitors. Honestly, that woman was good at testing Miguel.
"Whoa, h-how much do we have....to pay for this?"
Groaning softly as Miguel sat at his desk, he took a sip of his vodka. Your soft voice now echoed from the monitor. Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched the two of you walk around. Lyla must have set this up, normally Miguel only watched certain interviews.
"I've been meaning to ask, what's in the little box you've been carrying?" Lyla asked you.
"A-Ah....Um...I-I wanted to say thank you to...Miguel for helping me out. Is...Is it too much? I thought....I usually bake as a thank you," Your voice was getting lower as you started to cover your face.
"Hehe," Lyla looked directly at the camera, "I'm sure he will love it."
Miguel grunted in response as he drank the rest of his liquor. Lyla was abusing the fact that you didn't know that he was the CEO. Miguel couldn't wait until you did find out. How shocked would you get? How red would those cheeks turn?
Clicking his tongue at his thoughts, Miguel decided to meet with you. After all, it would be rude for you to be waiting much longer. You had a cake to give him.
How cute.
--------
Lyla was currently showing you some of the labs. There were a lot of floors that you weren't going to be anywhere near, but Lyla said it was good to know where everything was. Honestly, Alchemax was even more impressive than you thought.
Arriving at the next floor, you gasped softly as you made eye contact with Miguel once the doors open.
"Oh, Miguel, funny to find you on the relaxing floor," Lyla said with a grin.
"I don't find it strange at all," Miguel huffed and smiled towards you, "Ah, (Y/n), right?"
"Y-Yes!" You squeaked and lowered your head, "Um...I..."
Your heart was racing. This was weird. So very, very weird. Maybe you shouldn't have baked him a cake. Maybe just a thank you card was enough? You couldn't find the courage to give him the baked good. It was too embarrassing.
"Awe!" Lyla cooed and pulled Miguel inside the elevator, "Why don't I show (Y/n) where she will be working! Miguel, come with us."
"Sure," Miguel grunted lowly.
"Ah, here!" You nervously handed Miguel the cake, avoiding his gaze, "I....I wanted to say...thank you for...for helping me with the interview! S-So, thank you!"
"You didn't have too," Miguel smiled as he took the small box, "But thank you."
Finally raising your head, you felt your cheeks burn as Miguel smiled towards you. There were butterflies in your stomach as you watched him. Miguel was so kind and handsome. You hoped that you could see him often here.
"Huh? You can smile?" Lyla mocked Miguel, causing him to grunt.
"When is your vacation again?"
It was fascinating watching the two bicker. That sweet and kind Miguel was grumbling towards Lyla. As if they had been friends for quite some time. It made you feel even better about working here.
"Here is our floor! C'mon (Y/n), let's leave the brute to himself," Lyla chuckled, grabbing your hand.
"W-Wait...Isn't this the top floor-"
"Hm? Oh, yes, you were hired to be my replacement while I'm away on vacation. You're going to be the CEO's secretary." Lyla said casually.
Your eyes widen in shock. You wanted to question Lyla, but honestly, thinking about your interview, it made sense. Lyla just smiled as she showed you her office, wanting to get you comfortable.
"S-So...I'll be working...with the CEO?" You asked softly, taking a seat on her couch, "Um...How are they?"
"Ugh, so annoying. Always uptight, always cranky, never laughs or smiles. Honestly, this change will be good for all of us. I'm sure you can get that grunting brute to loosen up. The job is pretty easy itself as you've seen during your interview."
"Mhm, will there be...anything else I have to do?"
"Not much, but I'll go over all that with more details tomorrow. Why don't we work on your schedule as of right now?"
"Okay,"
--------
Miguel waited for you to enter Lyla's office before he could enter his. He took a seat at his desk and pulled out a fork as he undid the box you gave him. Miguel raised a brow at the cake before him, it was small and a little sloppy, but the effort was there.
Taking a bite of the cake, Miguel winced at the salty taste. You did admit that you were clumsy. Swallowing, Miguel went to grab a water before seeing a small note in the box.
"If it is too salty, I'm so sorry. There is a small packet of tea that goes well with salty items...just in case." Miguel read aloud.
Finding the tea packet, Miguel scoffed softly as he got himself a glass of hot water. You were well prepared. Miguel seemed to recall you saying that you only got clumsy when nervous. Were your nerves getting to you about the job?
"Well, can't have that now," Miguel hummed, drinking the tea, "I quite like (Y/n). She'd make a fine edition to the team."
"This is the big bad CEO's office," Lyla said from outside Miguel's doors.
Miguel just smiled as he imagined you on the other side. Lyla was making him to be oh so scary. Appraoching the door, Miguel kept a calm composure as he decided to open the doors.
"Stop scaring the new girl," Miguel hummed. He watched as your eyes widen,
"Huh? Miguel? Y-You're...You're the C-CEO?"
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Next Chapter
@timidquindim @decentsoupperson @ivkygirly @reader-1290 @daddyfroglegs @eepybunny0805 @ddreabea @iamperson12280 @migueloharasoulmate @tojishugetiddies @koko-1025 @hyeinwluv85s @daisy-artfield @migueloharastruelove @a-lil-whore @hcqwxrtss123 @the-pan-liquid @tojisfav @pochapo @bubblegumfanfictions @brighterthanlonelythoughts @ghstypaint @mangoslushcrush @synamonthy @scaleniusrm @moonspectorx @dorck26 @a060403 @lunablackcosplay @soraya-daydreams @lovefanfic1 @mymrsweirdnessshipperstuff-blog @pretty-pink-princesss @corpsebridenightamare @razertail18 @gachagator @droolingmuttt @miguelsfavwife @ryzguy06 @raideaters-blog @manishkaworld @keidilla @byjessicalotufo @pigeonmama @k3ythesapphic @acesangels @stealingyourturts @angel-xx-1 @amberbalcom14 @flaps200 @ofmenanduhhhwellmen
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multi-kpop-fanfics · 13 days
Text
tw: professor!wonwoo, TA!chan, TA!reader (fem), threesome, blowjob, deepthroating, degradation, facials, sir kink, hair pulling, cursing, light cumplay, dom!wonwoo, sub!reader, sub!chan, bisexual implications (NOT TO BE CONSIDERED AN ASSUMPTION FOR IRL) - minors dni.
@bitchlessdino @highvern ty for the inspo loves hehe
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"These fucking imbeciles - How can they mess up such an easy formula?" Wonwoo curses loudly, "Did they even try to study in the first place?"
"We're so sorry, Sir." You apologize with a honeyed voice, "We tried our best to explain the questions in the most simple way possible."
"And yet they're failing this test one after the other." He grits his teeth, placing another bright red F on the paper in his hands.
"Not our fault they can't pick up chem, Sir." Chan lets out a scoff as he throws his shirt away, slotting himself next to you.
"Should I remind you your duties as a TA, kid?" Wonwoo pulls the younger man's hair harshly.
"N-No Sir, I'm aware." Chan winces in pain, hands gripping the older man's thigh for stability.
"Good. Now, instead of running your mouth to my students, I suggest you run your mouth over my cock, just like your pretty little colleague is doing right now."
You're putting your pride on the line, rubbing your tongue all over Wonwoo's cock like it's a popsicle, one hand playing with the base and the other resting on his right thigh.
Of course, sucking off your professor isn't part of your or Chan's TA duties, but you know how cranky and stern this professor is and doing that would only benefit everyone related to his class.
"Stop being so fucking greedy all the time." Chan pulls you off by the hair and replaces your mouth with his own, wrapping his lips around the tip to suck it slowly. He fists the shaft and pumps the hardened shaft with his free hand, grinning victoriously when he hears Wonwoo hum in approval.
"That's how you suck dick, bitch. You could learn a thing or two." He backs away to lick his lips in a taunting manner, his hand glued to the professor's cock
"Asshole." You curse at your fellow TA and slap his hand away. You latch your mouth on Wonwoo's dick again, but this time, you try to take him as deep as you can. Except Chan puts his hand on the back of your head, forcing you to deepthroat Wonwoo.
"Don't slack off, Y/N." The young man chuckles in your ear, "Sir is visibly stressed and we have to help him."
He rhythmically guides you up and down, left hand on your head and the other playing with your chest, alternating between your tits.
Just above the two of you, Wonwoo is having an even harder time correcting the papers, the lettering starting to get blurry, almost unreadable.
"Fuck, you two." He grunts, his fingers trying to resist the urge of crampling up the papers.
You tap Chan's arm and he lets go of your head, allowing you to take a break, coughing a little after having your throat stuffed full.
"Let me help, darling." He winks at you and kitten licks the sides of the cock, "You can have the tip." He winks at you and you nod, resuming your previous movements, more carefully.
Wonwoo has long forgotten the papers, his round glasses discarded on his office desk, his hands now loosening his necktie and popping the first two buttons of his shirt.
"G-Gonna cum soon." He moans and it rings heavily in your ears - You never thought you'd hear such a sweet, sultry sound from a man like him.
Chan looks at you and speeds up his mouth, lips coated with a thin layer of saliva. You hollow your cheeks around the tip and swirl your tongue as fast as you can.
"Fuck." Wonwoo grabs a fistful of your hair and he pumps his cock with the other hand, ribbons of cum splattering over your cheeks and mouth.
He lets go of you and switches to Chan, dumping the rest of his load over the man's face and chest, the latter letting out a low hiss.
The professor slouches back in his chair, admiring the ruined image of his two beloved TAs.
"So," you wipe your chin with your fingers and suck them clean, "Did we pass, Sir?"
Wonwoo flashes a lopsided smirk.
"With flying colors."
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yxngbxkkie · 2 months
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pranking the husband (l.y.f)
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okay, so i saw this tik tok today and instantly had an idea for my baby, felix 🫢 this is fucking adorable. i love it, i hope you love it 🩷
feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰
~
You keep giggling to yourself while in the bathroom, and you're surprised Felix hasn't come to ask you what's so funny. You glance over your shoulder, a smile on your lips as you watch your husband scroll through his tik tok.
“Cutie,” you mumble to yourself, making a mental note to kiss him after you finish the tik tok you're about to make.
While scrolling through your for you page this morning, you found a trend that you wanted to try on Felix. You're typically not one to make tik toks, but you don't actually post any of them, but this one makes you want to see how he'd react.
You stealthily put up your phone, checking to see if both of you are in it before hitting record. You fluff your hair and check yourself out in the mirror.
“Babe, how much longer do we have?” You ask him, knowing you need to leave in twenty minutes.
Felix doesn't look up from his phone, answering your question. “Twenty minutes. Are you ready?”
“No, not yet,” you sigh and rest your hands on your hips. “I'm not sure I really like the outfit I'm wearing.”
Your husband lifts his head, his eyes roaming down your body. “You don't? I think you look really good, sweetness,” he smiles at you, seeing the love in his honey-brown eyes.
“God, I love you,” you smile at him, blowing him an air kiss. “But, I think I'm going to change. There's another outfit I've been dying to wear.”
Felix pouts but gives in, nodding his head. “If it'll make you happy, go ahead,” he mentions, puckering his lips for a kiss.
You melt at his cuteness, feeling your heart fluttering in your chest. You reach where he's sitting before planting a kiss on his lips. You giggle softly and pull away before he can deepen it.
“Okay, can you get out real quick so I can change?” You ask him nonchalantly, taking a step back.
Felix nods his head, closing the apps on his phone as he stands up. Your jaw drops a bit as he just strolls out of the room. You glance towards your phone when his voice echoes into the bedroom.
“Wait!” He rushes back in, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Why am I leaving the room? You got changed in front of me earlier.”
You bite your lip, deciding to keep playing along. “Well, I wanted the outfit to be a surprise,” you tell him while leaning against the bathroom door frame.
He narrows his eyes at you before walking closer to you. You go back into the bathroom, holding your hand out in case he tries to tickle you. He's sneaky like that.
Felix finds your phone propped up and points a figure at you. “You sneaky! You're doing a bit,” he figures it out, laughing cutely.
You giggle as his arms wrap around your waist. You hug him tightly, both of you swaying in your shared bathroom. “I saw it on tik tok,” you tell him, combing your fingers through his hair.
“I can not believe you almost got me,” he laughs, pulling back. His gaze meets yours, and Felix smiles softly before kissing you again.
“I love you, my baby,” you grin, planting short kisses on his lips and cheeks. “Plus, you should know that I prefer to strip in front of you.”
Felix's smile turns into a smirk, one of his hands finding a place on your waist. “You love my eyes on you,” he impossibly moves in closer, his chest pressing against yours.
“Baby,” you sigh, tilting your head back when he starts kissing your neck. “We're gonna miss our reservation.”
“What if,” Felix trails off, placing a chaste kiss on your lips, “we canceled.”
You pout at him while grabbing a hold of one of his hands. “But, baby, we've already had to cancel on them once. I don't want to do it again. Chan was telling me how excited he is for tonight. And, two, I got all pretty for you. Don't you want to show me off?”
“You do look pretty,” Felix sighs, taking in the outfit you've “decided” to keep on. “And, I love showing you off. Can I eat you out when we get home?”
You throb at his question, squeezing his hand you're holding. “I can never say no to you,” you chuckle breathlessly, leading your husband towards the front door.
~
tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n
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ventismacchiato · 10 months
Text
41 behind the lens — truth or drink !
scaramouche x g!n reader
you and scara get asked to go on the youtube talk show ‘truth or drink’, where you ask eachother a series of questions. if one of you decides not to answer you must take a shot instead.
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welcome to truth or drink! celebrity couples will ask each other a set of random questions. they can either answer the question or take a shot!
Scara immediately starts pouring himself a shot.
You: we haven’t even started yet!
how long have you both been together?
Scara: about five years
You: five long years
Scara: go fuck yourself?
how did you both get together? did you two secretly pretend to hate each other online? everyone is dying to know!
You start reaching for the bottle but Scara yanks it away from you.
Scara: go on, answer it baby
You: do i have to?
Scara: if you don’t then i will
You: fine. basically i fell for scara before i knew he was a popular streamer, he was just a classmate from my photography class. the day after our first date is when i found out he was the balladeer.
Scara: and you continued to date me and not tell me you were my mortal enemy!
You: he’s still petty about this as you can see
when did he find out you were stardust?
You: a month later i think? after we went to paris for twitch con?
Scara: i need a drink just listening to this
worst thing you both experienced after doing your face reveal years ago?
Scara: no more alone time, i couldn’t even go for a walk without people recognizing me
You: also college was so weird after, i remember professors would play my videos after and ask if that was me. like obviously it is?
Scara: also so many photos, couldn’t even go to a public bathroom without people trying to photograph my dick
You: thankfully it’s died down since then
how often do you guys have sex?
Scara: it used to be every other day
You: but then we got real people jobs like acting and directing and now it’s less
Scara: a shame
most public place you’ve have sex?
You and Scara both share a look.
You: okay, i’ll divulge one place that’s not too bad. his trailer on his most recent project
Scara silently takes a shot.
have you ever considered breaking up?
This time it’s your turn to take the bottle away from Scara.
Scara: i wasn’t serious about it, but i have thought about it
You: tell them how many times
Scara: not my fault i have commitment issues!
have you ever cheated on one another?
Scara: they cheated on me with my alter ego
You: I TOLD YOU EVENTUALLY DIDN’T I?
what’s something about eachother the media wouldn’t believe?
You: he is so clingy, but it’s so cute
Scara: i am not
You: you’re literally playing with my foot right now
Scara: fuck off, and nobody would believe how kinky you are
You: i think you mean how kinky you are
Scara: and you’re into it so what does that say about you?
You: pour me a shot
how many sexual partners have you had?
Scara stares off to the side to count in his head.
Scara: 20?
You: the way you don’t even know
Scara: before you i just had a lot of one night stands, i was a whore
You: you still are
Scara: you’re into it
You: …unlike him i will be taking a shot for this one
have you talked about marriage?
You: tell them what you told me
Scara: marriage is a social construct, why do i have to host a big event and get down on one knee to prove i want to be with someone for the rest of my life? yn already knows i love them and now i have to get a ring and do paperwork too? society sucks
You: he’s insane, but we have talked about it
Scara: they will be proposing though
You: he’s such a princess
if you were allowed one pass, who would you sleep with?
You: wait, out of people we know?
Scara: Hm…say it on three
You: okay…1…2…3
You and Scara: Kazuha
Scara: honestly, i think he and Heizou would be down
something romantic your partner does?
You: honestly he has a lot…a recent one i found out about was when Scara buys me flowers he always keeps one for himself, so when it dies he knows when to get me a new bouquet
Scara: okay
You: awe look, he’s all shy now
how many kids do you both want if any?
Scara: i like kids but i want zero of my own
You: he compared it to a dog
Scara: that makes me sound bad! i said it’s like a dog because other people’s dogs are cute but if i had my own i would accidentally kill it
You: my blood line ends with me
if your partner was in a coma, how long would you wait for them?
Scara: a good year, maybe two if i feel like it
You: THAT’S IT?
Scara: …yeah?
You: offended you won’t wait an eternity for me and never fall in love again
Scara: my water bill will finally be normal again without you
You: such a romantic you are
how often do you two get into arguments? and what about?
You: not as much as we used to, we’re better at finding solutions and communicating
Scara: it’s usually about how busy we are due to work
You: yeah sometimes we go weeks without seeing eachother and it makes him cranky
Scara: one time they ran towards me at an airport
You: it was romantic!
Scara: i had to drop my coffee to catch you
something about marriage that scares you?
Scara pours himself a shot.
You: hey, tell me!
Scara: no thanks
You: Please?
Scara: …fine. just scared you’ll get bored eventually or realize i’m not the one
You: i’ll ever get bored of you!
Scara: we’ll see
has anyone flirted with you during a project? any fellow actors or directors?
You: sometimes people hit on him right in front of me
Scara: you’re no better, people hit on you more. literally just last week—[censored]
You: can you guys bleep that so nobody loses their job!
first impression of each other?
You: i thought he was the cutest boy in class
Scara: you’re fun to listen to
You: i talked a lot during our college days didn’t i?
Scara: you still do
You: wow…
Scara: didnt say i disliked it, idiot
one thing you would change about the other?
Scara: nothing
You: okay i feel bad about my answer
Scara: fuck you?
You: i was going to say i wish you were less of a workaholic!
Scara: i can try
how do your parents feel about your relationship?
Scara: thanks for watching, make sure to like and subscribe and comment down below-
You: sore topic as you can see
last one before we let you two go, something you love about eachother?
You: he’s going to take a shot
Scara slowly puts the bottle back down.
You: told ya
Scara: theres so many fucking people watching me right now
You: fine, i’ll go first. i like how he shows his love for me in different ways like a lot of people think hes really cold but once he gets comfortable he can be the loudest and sweetest person in the room
Scara: thanks i guess
You: look how red he is
Scara: do you want to die?
You: okay, my turn!
Scara: i like…how you make me feel safe
You: you’re so cute
Scara: die
You: i love you too
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behind the lens !
masterlist — prev | next
author’s notes — i thought this wud be silly so hope u enjoyed 🙏 almost free 😭😭
synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?
taglist is closed — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @ins4nebish @stxrgxzxr @lilacponds @uma-umie @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @courtneydefender @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko @moon-320 @orionicchaos @cartierfiles [1/3]
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stuniolvs · 4 months
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keep you safe ~ m.s.
in which matt snaps at you because he is having anxiety before a show.
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(please leave requests!)
matt had begged you to go on his second tour with him. you two were a fresh couple during the last one and he absolutely hated it.
he just missed you like hell and didn’t want to do that again. so you agreed to go on this one with him.
it’s currently the second show and you loved going to the first one with him so you were excited about this.
you guys had been driving for most of the day before stopping the tour bus at the hotel then checking in and dropping off all our stuff then driving back to the venue. now just waiting in the tour bus until the triplets needed to go in.
you had noticed that matt seemed a bit off but you just figured it was because he didn’t get good sleep last night.
“hey baby are you excited?” you ask matt who was watching tv. “mhm” he sighs not breaking his gaze from the tv.
you entered the venue with various security guards around you and the triplets.
meanwhile matt was biting his nails feeling extremely stressed and anxious. he felt sweat prick at his hairline. he started doing some deep breathing as he entered his green room type of area to get ready.
you quietly sat on the floor backstage wanting to leave matt and his brothers alone to get ready.
nick entered the room first wearing a purple shirt and some jorts. “looking good nick!” you compliment “thanks babe, i gotta go check with the sound people so ill be back soon” you nod.
then matt enters backstage. he’s wearing a blue tshirt and jeans, simple, yet he still looks so pretty. “hey baby, you look g-“ “shut the fuck up! god you’re being so annoying!” he shouts quickly storming out.
matt felt panic rise in his throat.
shit. shit. shit.
he felt himself start to sweat as he’s breathing restricted. he tried to take deep breaths but they’d just get caught in his throat.
“matt?” you shout down the long hallway knowing something was up with him.
“i-i-i” he tries to yell but it comes out barley a whisper. luckily you heard him in their because it was fairly quit in the hallway cause nobody went down it unless they had to use the restroom.
you quietly open the door and the second you see him your heart tugs. he’s sitting on the ground with tears running down his face, sweating, and trying to breath.
“hey, hey, matty.” you slide down next to him. you pick up his hand and place it on your chest covered with a blue shirt. matt looks up at you with glossy eyes. you take deep breaths as matt try’s to follow “so sorry” he mutters three times through strangled breaths. “matt it’s okay” you cup his face and pull him into a kiss.
he quickly kisses back, putting his shaky hands on your waist.
after a couple minutes you pull back.
you speak before he gets the chance to, “matt what’s wrong?”
“i-i don't know.” he mutters “i-im so sorry baby, i d-dont know what’s wrong. i don't feel good.”
“its okay matty. i love you and if something is wrong, even if you don't know what it is, please tell me and i can help."
he takes a deep breath“i love you more and i promise i will.” he sighs “i have to go, we go on in 10” he groans.
“okay baby, win for me. i love you so much,” you say with an idea popping into your head. he kisses your nose. you run a paper towel under the sink and wipe his face with it. “i love you too baby.”
you walk him over to his brothers and you place a parting kiss on his lips with a “you look so amazing matty.” and a flushed matt enters the stage.
you walk over to you favorite security guard and speak to him. “hey, i have to go get some things for the triplets i should be back about 20 before the show ends, ill text you when im back.” “oh yes of course mrs.sturniolo, ill be there to walk you in when you text me.” he nods “thank you so much!”
you leave and stop by your favorite flower stand and get a bouquet for matt. then you stop by target and get candy and stuffed animals of their animals for each triplet. you leave and arrive back 16 minutes before the show is gonna end, holding a bag full of stuff.
you enter the backstage area seeing the triplets enter from the stage, all three of them sweaty.
matt glances around before landing on you before he jogs over to you “baby! baby! i won!!” he says holding up his medal.
“good job matt! here you go, there’s more stuff in here but they're for your brothers too so can you go get them?” you ask while handing him the flowers you look up at him after your rant and see a shocked matt staring at the flowers. “these are for me?” you nod aggressively. he looks up at you and places a soft kiss on you lips, slightly leaning because there’s a bag and flowers in-between you guys.
he pulls back, “thank you so much baby. i'll go get nick and chris.” he says placing a soft kiss on your nose.
when matt, nick, and chris are in front of you you hand them their candy and stuffed animals.
they all hug you thanking you.
"are we ready to go back to the hotel?” you ask “mhm,” chris says, he looks exhausted.
matt drives them back to the hotel and you all settle down in your rooms.
matt dumps a bottle of water in a cup and uses it to put his flowers in placing his stuffed shark next to you in bed. “to keep you safe.” he said
you smile and open your arms, he lays on your chest. “i love ya’ so much baby” he mutters “i love you matty.” you kiss his head.
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leaky-bunny · 1 year
Text
on vacation right now and i can't stop thinking about how incredibly sexy beach omo with a controlling dom would be. so i wrote a little fic about it. :)
picture it: me sitting in the sand by my dom's side as they're reclined on a nice chair, soaking up sun. it's hot, so i'm guzzling water to stay hydrated and watching the waves ripple and crash against the shore. eventually, i feel my bladder pang, and i stand up to go find a bathroom, only for them to grab my hand and hold me back.
"if you're trying to do what i think you're trying to do, don't. you sit back down, sweetheart."
i agree, shifting in the sand, this time with my legs pressed a little closer together.
time passes and the need gets much much worse. the ocean does nothing to help me, its sounds only driving me closer to the edge. i tug on my dom's arm, voice now a lot more urgent as i tell them i'm going to go in the water, hoping i can secretly let go once my bottom half is fully submerged and hidden. their eyebrow raises, obviously not impressed by my weak attempt at beating the system, but nevertheless they agree and stand up as well. the change in position sends me whimpering, but i try to cover it best i can with a cough (not very successfully though because they clearly hear and smirk). we stroll towards the water, my bladder contracting as i fight the urge to hold myself. despite the beach being calm, it's certainly not empty, and our fellow vacationers probably wouldn't appreciate such a show. the second my feet touch the waves, however, i gasp as a leak forces it's was out of me, soaking into my bikini as my dom pauses by my side.
"what's wrong sweetie, i though you wanted to go in?"
i flinch as another wave laps at my feet, legs firmly pressed together. "nghh, g-gonna pee...."
their eyes turn hard as they scowl, grabbing my hand and dragging my back to our spot in the sand. "no the fuck you're not, i gave you one rule. you are keeping all that piss inside you until you burst, understood?"
i wanna beg, wanna do something to relieve the arousal now coursing through my veins, but i just nod weakly and focus on not letting any more out.
it only takes another 10 minutes for me to leak again, enough to make a tiny wet patch in the sand beneath me. this time, i do moan, eyes glazed with the desire to let go, but my dom looks over and knows immediately what happened. they smile and reach over, pretending to adjust the bottom of my bikini, but instead pressing on the bulge of my bladder, hard and achingly full. another leak sprays out, even bigger than the next one, and with that my last shred of composure breaks.
"please- fuuuck, let me pee master, i have to go so bad and i've been so good, trying my best to hold it in just like you asked me to-"
they shush me, looking around, but finding no one has overhead or seems to care. "alright baby, calm down, i know you've done well for me. dig a little hole in the sand, ok? that'll be your potty."
i nod rapidly, too excited about the concept of finally peeing to be embarrassed by their word choice. my hands work quickly, scooping at the sand next to me until there's a hole large enough to sit over, positioned so my cunt is right above it. i stare up at my dom, eyes pleading, and they smile wickedly. "open your legs baby, show master how wet you are." i do, the dampness on my crotch extremely evident, and they shake their head in disappointment. "i would punish you for leaking, but here is not the place for that. i'm feeling very gracious, so you have permission to pee now. let it out bunny, i wanna see every drop."
the sentence is barely out of their mouth before i let go, the gushing sound filling the air as i piss a torrent. at first, the sand soaks it up almost instantly, but after a while, when the entire hole is soaked, a puddle begins to froth beneath me just like the ocean. i pant and shiver, eyes rolled back into my skull, not even noticing that my dom is staring at me as if they're going to eat me whole.
"good bunny, making a mess in public for me. bet that feels good, hm? i can't wait to show you how fucking horny you make me when we get back to the hotel. master's gonna make you cum so many times your brain will turn as fuzzy as that ocean foam."
2K notes · View notes
vminizzle · 1 year
Text
Stay quiet for me
pairing : boyfriend!jungkook x f.reader
genre : smut, fluffy tones?
warnings : pet names, swearing, marking, penetration, unprotected sex, cockwarming, slapping (once)
words count : 0.9k
A/N : hi hi everyone, I hope y’all doing good. Here’s a little something to thank y’all for your support on my recent fics and for the 100 followers!! love y’all. My english still sucks but aye let’s go! (also I want to precise that I’m a new writer I’m not experienced, I’ll try to do better for the upcoming fics *sigh*)
FEEDBACKS ARE VERY WELCOMED ♡
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M RATED 
“fuck, go faster.” Jungkook said as he gripped your hips tighter. You could tell that you were going to have bruises later by the way his fingers were buried into the soft flesh. You were trying the best you could to make the both of you reach your high.
His hard-on was filling you up deliciously, so deep, it felt too good. You could feel every inch of him as you moved up and down on him. His hair was sticked on his forehead, sweat covering your bodies .
Your loud moans escaping from your lips as Jungkook gripped your neck connecting his beautiful lips on the abused skin. Sucking softly, tongue caressing the marks he left, making you whimper at the sensitive stimulation. You were so close to finishing when you heard Jungkook’s phone rang. He cursed before sighing, dropping his head on your shoulder. It was late at night who could it be, you wondered.
He grabbed his phone to check who it was making you stop curiously. Jungkook moved his hand to slap your ass lightly “don’t stop baby” he groaned. He bucked his hips suddenly making you lost your balance. “Jungkook” you moaned. Your thighs were so sore, it’s been more than 15 minutes since you started riding him. “it h-hurts babe” you sobbed softly.
"Yoongi is calling, stay quiet for me, you can do that for me love, huh?” he caressed your cheek making you close your eyes nodding at him softly “ that’s my girl” he pecked your lips. 
Before Jungkook picked up the call, he lifted your body laying you gently on the bed considered all the efforts you did. He looked into your eyes to make sure everything was alright for you.
He grabbed his phone, picking up Yoongi’s call, putting it on speaker “wassup dude! sorry I know it’s late but I was wondering if you’re ok if I modify my verse in our last demo. I want to exchange some parts with Jimin. So I could see which one is better” you listened to the deep voice echoing through the room. It was Taehyung…
Jungkook looked at you with an emotionless face, you were about to laugh when he hit your g-spot with a particular hard thrust. You bit your lip trying to block the noises threatening to escape as he smirked at your reaction.
"bro you here?” Taehyung asked “yea yea I’m here. Why do you have Yoongi’s phone ? And yea I think it c-can work. Make sure to not- shit-” He groaned louder than he would had think.
“man, you good?” Taehyung asked confused.
“yes! yes!” Jungkook replied.
“hmm, so yea. I’m with Yoongi that’s why I have his phone, mine’s dead. Don’t worry  I’ll be careful not to modify too much since we really liked how it sounded and all. Yoongi is with us so everything will be fine” Taehyung started blabbing while Jungkook tried his best to hit the places he knows that could make you scream his name.
His friend long forgotten when you gripped his long black locks, pulling him in a passionate kiss. He put his hand on your cheek as he kept devouring your lips.
“Kook? can you hear m-” 
“yea yea, I-I  trust you” Jungkook replied out of breath.
“sorry if i disturbed you this late, thank y-” Taehyung started apologizing.
“It’s o-ok, bye!” Jungkook ended the call, throwing his phone away. 
He grabbed your left thigh, lifting it up a little higher so he could hit deeper “f-fuck, you feel so good”. He was getting near, you knew it. You scrached his back as he left little kisses on your chest “Jungkook go faster please”.
He bit his lips as he gripped onto the headboard with one hand for support. You threw your head back into the pillow, the pleasure building in your stomach getting too much. You looked up at him, his hair practically wet, muscles contracting every time he made a move, his lips red from all the biting and kisses, his eyes rolling to the back of his head .
This view made you feel butterflies in your stomach. The bed kept on hitting the wall repeatedly “fuck! I’m gonna cum!” you sobbed.
Jungkook lowered himself to put his forehead on yours, trying to catch his breath “me too!”.
You both moaned as your walls started tightening around him uncontrollably. You grabbed the sheet tightly as you came, your fingernails digging into the flesh of his bicep. He continued thrusting into you to help you ride your high as you pulled on his hair “please cum inside me baby please”. He could only moan at your words. He held your hips as he cummed inside you immediately your words exciting him more than you thought. 
The warm liquid filled you up to the brim, some flowing on the bed sheet. “damn” he cursed watching his cum dripping out of you “you’re so hot”.
You laughed pulling him down on you “let’s stay like this for a while please?” you asked shyly.
“you want me to stay inside?” he looked up at you curious as you nod caressing his cheek, your other hand running up and down his scratched back. He kissed you neck whispering an “I love you y/n” before cuddling you. “I love you Jungkook” you kissed the top of his head.
“guys is it just me or he seemed weird? like sick?” Taehyung asked a bit lost. 
“nah. boy was getting laid” Yoongi said smirking making Jimin laugh loudly his head falling on Taehyung’s shoulder as he clap his hands. 
A/N : sorry I had to make a little Vmin appearance hehe ,, ♡ I hope you guys liked it :) thank you for your support!
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kil-g · 10 months
Text
surprise
a/n: i got too sad after writing that last thing and needed to do something silly
summary: there's a new member of the household and you have to convince simon to like them.
g!n reader; civvy!reader
word count: 1.6k
warnings: simon being mean to a dog :(
---
“Hey, I’m…uh—I’m on my way home.”
“Oh!” You say. 
There’s a certain exasperation to your voice that makes him think that you’re somewhere that isn’t the house. He puts his phone down in the cupholder and places both of his hands on the wheel of the car.
“In an hour.”
“An hour?”
“An hour.”
“Could you fuck off somewhere and maybe make it, like an hour and a half?”
“I’d like to go home.”
“I know, yes. I know. It’s just that I have this whole thing planned and I need an extra thirty minutes. You’d be doing me a pretty big solid if you fucked off for a little bit longer.” 
“I’m tired and I’m hungry. I’m not gonna fuck off.”
“What, are we making this a race?”
“You can race. I’m going home.”
“Okay, we’re gonna race.” You say, halfway through laughter. 
“What are you doing?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“I don’t like surprises.” He says.
“Well, I love you and I need you to suck it up because it’s a pretty cool surprise.”
Simon blinks, keeping his eyes on the road. Then, he sighs and says, “I’ll see you at home.”
“Not if I see you first!” You reply, this time a little out of breath. 
“I’m not racing you.”
“Scared you’re gonna lose?”
“Goodbye.”
“Love you!” 
The line dies out.
Part of him wants to be annoyed. Surprises weren’t exactly his favorite thing in the world. He especially did not like such a surprise that would keep him from coming home after a very long month of trying not to die in a violent, fiery explosion. And, he deeply, desperately wanted to lie down in a bed with an actual mattress, real pillows, and clean blankets.
But, for the life of him, he could not think of anything more unbearable than the thought of letting you down.
It was almost laughable. Simon is first and foremost a soldier. And, when you’re a soldier first before anything else, like a friend, companion, romantic partner, let downs were par for the course. A birthday, an anniversary. Celebrating a promotion or any other achievement of the like. Those didn’t even come secondary or even tertiary on the line of things that needed to be cared about. 
And, the worst part, is that you tolerated it. Sure, there was a certain disappointment to a missed call or text. Despite that, you loved him with a stability that he couldn’t possibly be more grateful for. It made him feel almost normal. Normalcy was a luxury someone like him couldn’t typically afford.
So, before he pulls his car into the driveway, Simon mentally prepares himself to be open-minded. Whatever the surprise was, he would do his best to actually try and enjoy it. That is until he unlocked the front door to the house and stepped in, only to be greeted with the sight of a dog sitting up, barking at him from within a metal crate.
She was clearly still a pup. Her paws are far too big for the size that she currently was. And, the more clear it is that Simon was no threat to her, the more she cries to be let out. Though, Simon makes no move to do any such thing. Instead, he sits on the couch and looks back at her until eventually, she stops making noise all together and resolves herself to sit quietly. Each time Simon accidentally catches her eye, her tail wags, bumping against the floor of her crate softly.
This goes on for about twenty more minutes before a key turns in the door knob once again. You step through, carrying bags of groceries.
“Sweetheart.”
“Can you help me with these?” You say.
Simon gets up, takes bags out of your hands and walks them into the kitchen. “Why is there a dog in the house?”
You lean down to lift the latch off of the door and the dog comes barreling out. “You couldn’t have opened her crate up for her? Why were you just staring at her like a weirdo? It’s a dog.”
“Why is there a dog in the house?”
“It’s our dog.” From one of the bags you were still holding, you pull out a bag of dog treats and throw it at Simon. “Give her one of these so she knows you’re not a complete hardass.”
“I’m not giving it anything.”
“Simon.”
He looks back at you. And, from the way you stare back at him, it becomes more and more clear that this dog is one of the very very few things that you simply won’t back down on.
In fact, there were toys all over the ground. He’s not sure how he didn’t notice them earlier. And, with an attentiveness that only slightly put him off, the dog fell into step beside you following you very closely while also looking up at you for any sign of praise or reward. 
Simon inhales, then exhales. He grumbles under his breath, then rips the bag of treats open and kneels down with one of them in his hand. When the dog notices, she clumsily stumbles her way over to him and gratefully takes the treat from out of his fingers.
You appear at his side and kneel down next to him, pressing a kiss against his cheek. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“Whose dog is this?”
“Ours.”
“I don’t want a dog.”
“You’ll learn to want a dog.” You say, jokingly. Your hands wrap around his arm and shake him gently.
“I’m serious.”
“Well, you aren’t exactly home very often. I think the decision is mine.” You say, firmly. “And, as sad as it is to admit, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t lonely, sometimes.”
He can feel the weight of your head on his shoulder. He doubts that your intent is to guilt him–but if it is, it’s certainly working.
The dog nudges her wet nose into the palm of his hand. No doubt looking for more treats Her head is smaller than his hand. As gently as possible, he brushes his knuckles over her head.
“Does the dog… make you feel less lonely?”
“Yes. Most of the time.”
He rests his palm over her head now, brushing his thumb back and forth over the space between her eyes. 
“What’s it’s name then?”
“Goose.”
“Stupid fucking name.” He says, softly.
“Fuck you.” You laugh. “You love it. Asshole.”
Goose walks in a circle in her spot, then sits with her back turned to him. She leans her weight against his knee.
“Not much of a guard dog.” He murmurs, and you reach a hand to scratch behind her ear. “Hardly did anything when I came in.”
“Because she’s a good girl.” You say.
He can feel her tail hit his foot at the sudden excitement at being praised for being anything. “If she’s gonna stay in this house, she’s gonna have to protect it.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Simon takes another treat out of the bag. Goose does absolutely nothing to hide her excitement. “And, how did this happen?”
“She got dumped outside of my work. No one wanted to take her so I took her.” You say. Simon looks at you and you look back at him. “No chip, no collar. She was wandering around our parking lot for hours, I think. Probably waiting for whoever dumped her. Vet said she can’t be any older than five months.”
“When was this?”
“About a month and a half ago.” You rub your thumb against his arm and press your mouth against his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re home.”
“Yeah.”
“So, what do you think?”
Slowly, Goose sinks down closer to the ground and settles her chin over her far-too-big paws. She looks at Simon, blinking at him with big eyes before they slowly settle into a nap.
“I think that a dog is a perfect waste of space.”
“Okay, what do you really think?” You chuckle. 
He sighs. A moment passes of complete silence. You’re hanging onto his arm, kneeling beside him as you both look down at this dog who can only get bigger and dirtier and stupider. This dog, who is also very soft and sweet. And, while (in his own opinion) he might be something of a monster, Simon couldn’t allow himself to be completely heartless. He couldn’t be the thing that takes away the bits of happiness that you can find for yourself.
“If it makes you happy, then I can hardly say no.”
You smile at him, give his arm a squeeze, and press another kiss on his cheek. You stand, “Do you wanna help me with dinner?”
“I’m gonna get cleaned up first.”
You hum in response but before you can fully turn away, he takes your hand and places a kiss on your cheek just below your eye, then another on your mouth. And in the moment that either of you are looking away from Goose, she gets up and begins chewing on his shoelaces.
“She likes you.”
“If I’m lucky it’ll pass.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t say that it will.” 
Another moment passes where it’s nearly completely silent, save for the sound of Goose’s mouth gnawing the little strings attached to Simon’s feet. Then, slowly, you wrap your arms around his neck and give him a squeeze. 
Then, you pull away, picking up Goose with a labored groan. You walk her over to the back door, open it, and place her down at the threshold. She all but stumbles down the steps into the backyard.
“Well, go get cleaned up if you really wanna help me with dinner.”
Simon watches you empty out grocery bags, then sighs. You listen to his footsteps walk farther into the house. And, through the window, you watch Goose twist up and roll into a splotch of mud. 
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dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months
Text
Not A Verstappen: Gridlocked {4}
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: A single photo puts half of the truth out into the world. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fingering, swearing WC: 2.3k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five
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Round Nineteen - Mexico 2022 You woke to a delicious smell and felt the strains of the free practices deep in your bones and every muscle protested the movements needed to get out of bed. Giving up, you laid there for a minute more, mentally preparing for the final free practice and qualifying race, before tossing the blankets back. 
You probably looked like a zombie the way you stumbled your way bleary eyed through the hotel suite to find Charles cooking breakfast. 
“Good morning, baby.” Lando grabbed you by the hips and pulled you into his lap while he waited patiently at the table.
“Just morning,” you grumbled with a yawn. “Nothing is good before noon.”
“I can think of one thing,” he teased as his fingertips traced the curve of your leg.
“Feeling a little tender, chérie?” Charles asked with a kiss to your forehead as he placed two plates on the table. “We can give you a massage after breakfast. Bon appétit.”
“Okay, maybe there’s a few good things in the morning,” you conceded before opening your mouth for the forkful of food Lando offered. “Are we still on for dinner tonight?”
“Sorry, love, Zak’s invited me and Danny to a charity event,” Lando apologised with a pout. “I’m sure Charles can take care of you all on his lonesome.”
“Of course,” Charles said with a soft smile, “but I’d rather you be with us.”
You shifted on his lap to face him and kissed your way along his jaw to his lips. “Me too.”
“Me three,” he murmured when you pulled back to finish eating.
As promised, after breakfast you found yourself lying face down on the bed with massage oil drizzled over your skin. Heavenly moans filled the pillow your face was buried in as the two of them found every knot in your muscles and eased them away with their strong hands. 
“I hope you don’t make sounds like that for Kristian,” Lando teased. He had given up helping Charles working his way along your body and instead parted your legs to focus his touch on one particular place. 
“Can’t say he’s ever fingered me,” you said before laughing at the soft spank he responded with. “Yet.” Heat burned across your ass at the smack he dealt and your yelp turned to a moan as he soothed the sensitive skin with his palm before kissing it softly. 
“I think our Lando is a little possessive of you, chérie.”
You squirmed on the mattress as his fingers worked their way back into you to find your cunt soaked for him. “I like it.”
“I’m not possessive, I just don’t want to share with you anyone else.”
You lifted your head from the pillow and found Charles’ lips pressed lightly as he tried not to laugh but the amusement was thick in his voice, “That’s what possessive means, mon cher.”
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You felt sorry for Charles as he was given a three-place grid penalty for something that wasn’t entirely his own fault. It was easy for the stewards to say he could have used his wing mirrors to see George coming up behind him on his flying lap but the window of view was so small that the stars had to align to actually see anything and react in time. 
His engineer should have warned him.
The urge to go to Ferrari and find him almost won but Max called out before you could leave the garage. “Do you have plans for dinner tonight?”
“Uh, yeah, I do,” you said as you scratched the nape of your neck nervously, something that didn’t go unnoticed.
“Is it a date?” You hated how intense his scrutiny was and his eyes narrowed the longer the question went unanswered. 
“Does it matter?”
“You’re dodging the question, zusje.” Max crossed his arms and looked over your shoulder. “Who is he?”
“Who’s who?” Your mood turned sour as you heard Jos’ voice behind you. “Are you coming to dinner?”
Max shook his head. “She’s going on a date.”
“And even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t choose to spend my evening with you,” you said as you turned to face your father. 
“You have a boyfriend?” Jos asked with a tick in his jaw. “Why is this the first I’m hearing about it?”
“Let’s list off the reasons. 1) it’s none of your fucking business, 2) it’s none of your fucking business, 3) it’s none of your-”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Max growled as he dropped his arm over your shoulder and turned you away. “We’ll talk about this later, go calm down somewhere.”
You stormed out of the garage without a goodbye and straight into Ferrari’s next door, ignoring the looks they gave you as you climbed the stairs to where the driver’s rooms were. 
Carlos had just opened his door as you were passing it and he looked a little dishevelled and disappointed as he sighed to himself, and you could only imagine how much worse Charles was feeling. “Tough quali for you guys,” you said as you caught his attention and accepted the hug he offered. “How’s he doing?”
“Pissed off. Xavi is probably hiding in a hole somewhere by now. I would if I were him,” he huffed a humourless laugh. “It’s good that you're going out to dinner, I don’t think he would leave his room otherwise.”
“That’s what friends are for.” You gave Carlos a little wave as he went on his way before you knocked on Charles' door. “Hey, it’s me.”
The door opened before you had even finished speaking and you slipped inside quietly as you saw the sullen look on his face. Needing to comfort him, you caught the door with your shoe and kicked it shut so you could cup his face in your hands and pull him into a kiss. 
“I forgo-” You froze against Charles as the door swung open and Carlos filled the doorway, his jaw slack as he stared wide-eyed. “What the fuck, mate,” he hissed quietly as he stepped inside and closed the door shut. “You know Max is going to kill you, right?”
“I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration,” Charles muttered as he stepped back and took your hand instead. “What did you forget?”
“Huh? Shit, I forgot.” Carlos frowned and looked back at the door. “So…Just friends, ay?”
“Not just friends,” you chuckled, squeezing Charles’ hand. “But not ready to go public just yet.”
“Because of Max?”
“Because of Lando,” Charles admitted. 
“Ohhhh, because he’s been in love with her forever and you got the girl,” Carlos nodded to himself as he spoke only to stop when you laughed. 
“Because we are dating Lando too, and it will be a PR nightmare to explain.” You laughed as Carlos’ mouth dropped open and he pointed between the two of you. “Me, Charles and Lando, yes.”
“Woooow,” he laughed as he recovered and shook his head once more. “Max is 100% going to kill the both of you. Nice knowing you, mi amigo.”
“Thanks for your support, mate,” Charles drawled sarcastically and reached for his keys. “Let’s go, amour.”
“Can I just ask…” Carlos leaned back against the door so Charles couldn’t reach the handle. Crossing his arms, Charles rolled his eyes and waited impatiently for the question. “Does she top you like in the driver standings?”
“First Pierre, now you, putain de merde,” Charles sighed and pushed Carlos out of the way as he laughed. 
But then the laughter dried up and he turned to you offended at the news. “Pierre knew before me?”
“Since Suzuka,” Charles said with a smirk knowing it would irk him more.
Carlos reeled back and his eyes widened. “What the fuck, and that pendejo didn’t tell me. How long have you been together?”
“Just before Monza.”
“Before Mon…Monza! Ay!” Carlos dragged a hand down his face. “I thought we were friends, and Lando too? That guy has never kept a secret in his life.”
You looked at Charles with a giggle. “So dramatic, is he always like this?”
“Mhmm, try being teammates with him,” Charles replied with a roll of his eyes. “He just needs time to process, and I want to get out of this place before I cross paths with Xavi.”
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“Kristian would have a coronary if he saw this. I’m so full but it’s too good to waste.” The Italian restaurant Charles had found in the centre of Mexico City was beautiful but the menu was definitely not suited to your pre-race diet. “Is this your plan to slow me down tomorrow?”
Charles stroked your hand beneath the table. He had managed to get the reservation for a secluded corner booth hidden behind a thin thatch privacy wall, but you still tried to remember to be careful. “Nothing can slow you down, amour.”
“Not even the metaphorical baggage I carry around?” 
“What?” Charles choked on a laugh and had to take a drink of water to stop coughing.
“Something Lando said a while ago.” You chuckled at the memory as you twirled more creamy fettuccine around your fork. “Apparently I have daddy issues, along with his temper.”
“You’re nothing like Jos.” Charles shook his head adamantly. “Back in karting my family would come and cheer me on and I remember when Max came anything less than first place, Jos wouldn’t even clap for him. He didn’t want anything to do with him unless he was on the top of the podiums.”
“I know what an asshole my father is, you don’t need to convince me,” you muttered quietly, feeling sorry for Max’s upbringing that was vastly different to yours.
“I’ve watched you cheer for Max from the pits when you’ve had to retire early. I’ve seen how concerned you get when he’s in a crash,” he said, bringing your attention back to the present. “You’re nothing like Jos.”
Unable to articulate how grateful you were to hear those words, you instead chose an action. Charles froze with surprise for a moment when you kissed him before instinct took over and his fingers curled around your nape to deepen it further. The white wine that had been paired with the pasta was warming your body but not as much as Charles’ hand was as it crept up beneath your dress.
A throat cleared beside the table and Charles pulled back with a sigh as a waiter stood awkwardly holding a dessert menu. 
“No, we’ll take the bill, thank you,” Charles said before the young man could offer the specials. 
“You seem to be in a rush to leave all of a sudden,” you teased in his ear as the waiter left with Charles’ credit card. 
You watched his teeth bite his bottom lip before his eyes trailed down your body. “I want dessert, amour, just nothing they can offer.”
The car ride back to the hotel was tantalisingly slow and it felt like the air conditioner was set on high with the heated looks shared between you. It wasn’t until your phone rang that you were able to tear your eyes away from him and you saw the name on the ID.
“Shh, it’s Max,” you warned before answering the call. “Hey bro, how’d dinner with the donor go?”
“When were you going to tell me you were dating Charles?”  The air in your lungs froze and you knew Charles had heard the exclamation by the tightening of his fists around the steering wheel.
You knew there would be alerts going off on Kristian’s phone as the Aura ring on your finger picked up the sudden spike in your heart rate. “Wh-what makes you think that?” 
“Because you said you were going on a date and now I’m seeing pictures of you and Charles kissing.” 
A tirade of curse words tumbled from your lips, colourful enough to make Charles blush as he indicated to pull into the hotel valet entrance. It wasn’t unusual for any of the drivers to spend time outside of racing together but now the crowd waiting seemed to have a new hunger. 
“Keep driving,” you urged as you saw the cameras flashing. “Go!”
“Pull Charles on the phone,” Max growled. “We need to have words.”
“Fuck off, you’re not my father so don’t act like it.”
“In that case, here.” 
“Don’t you even think about-” you heard the phone exchange hands and hit your head against the window when you heard Jos’ voice.
“What do you think you are playing at? Do you know how this reflects on the family?”
You ended the call and turned the phone off so neither of them could ring back. “The audacity of that man! I’m sorry, Cha, I fucked up.”
“Amour,” Charles said softly as he reached across and took your shaking hand. “It will be alright, we will figure it out together.”
“Shit, Lando!” You rushed to turn your phone back on and saw the missed calls from Max, Jos and even Vicky - which was a low blow since you would have answered your little sister’s call if you had seen it. “He’s not answering.”
“He is probably still at the charity dinner,” Charles reasoned as he stroked his thumb over your hand gently. “We can’t just drive around all night, we will have to go back to the hotel at some point.”
“I know…this just changes, well, everything.”
A smile tipped up Charles’ lips as he reached a stop light and looked across to you. “It doesn’t change one thing; I love you.”
Click here for part five.
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