Tumgik
#(i know he didn't have the chance to come to any realization that it was his mom he only needed instead of pursuing the love of his dad)
blowjob-horseguy · 3 days
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Steve opened his eyes and above him was a pale man with long curly hair. It fell like buoyant curtains of ringlets from either side of his head, obscuring their surroundings. The man frowned down at him with a fierceness that made Steve think for a second they had met in a tavern one night and Steve had done something to slight him.
Steve opened his mouth to speak and felt a sharp edge be pushed harder onto his throat. Steve's vocal cords froze. Whatever he did, it was really bad. Steve runs through a quick memory catalogue of all the men he's slighted recently and how, so he could know what to start apologizing profusely for.
Did he sleep with his woman? Did he sleep with his man? Did he win too much money from him? Did he lose too much money to him? None of those seemed right.
He considered briefly that he perhaps slept with the man himself but quickly dismissed the idea. If he had bedded anyone with hair like that and this passionate a disposition, he would not need to search for the memory.
He looked closer at his features. Hair so long it could easily be a maidens, and so dark it was almost blue. Thick, furrowed brows and lips thin and white, pressed tight together, sandwiched by dimpled cheeks. His skin was pale enough to look sickly and almost green in hue. Steve definitely would have remembered this face had he seen it before.
"You are awake" said the man.
His voice dragged like wood over coarse sand: like he wasn't used to speaking outloud. Steve got a glimpse of his teeth, Sharp and thin, unlike any other human teeth he had ever seen.
A chill ran down Steve's spine as he realized why.
This is no man; this is a Merrow!
Steve's mother had told him tales of these creatures.
When Steve answered the call to the sea, his mother warned him; beware of the sea maidens they may seem beautiful on the shore, but when they lure you to their home you see their true colors. Green skin and scaley behinds. Teeth sharp enough to tear through flesh, and claws the same.
The men are said to be even uglier, with the faces of hogs and catfish, and they drag sailors down to their dens to enslave them for eternity.
Steve has always been cautious about these monsters; avoiding the bright red cap that was the telltale sign of a merrow. The others on the ship have always ridiculed him for it, and now here he is in one of theirs's clutches.
and it's not... unattractive. Strangely.
"Speak" The merrow demanded
"Please let me go" Steve spoke, his voice breaking embarrassingly.
"Go where" the merrows eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Back to my ship."
"You will attack me."
"No, I won't I promise. I'm a peaceful man, very peaceful. Couldn't hurt a fly, me. Wouldn't even know where to start."
The jagged thing at Steve's neck pressed into his skin a little harder, Steve tried to lift his chin as far as it could go to get away, but he felt a small sting as the device broke his skin.
"All men lie."
"I'm not lying, I would never lie" Steve lied.
While far from the swashbuckling type, he has never shied away from a fight, especially when it comes to protecting his fellow crewmates. He's only been on the ship a few years, but he has improved his fighting form considerably from the naive nobleman's son he once was.
While he's not going to say it out loud, he probably would attack the thing, if given the opportunity.
The merrow didn't respond, just bored dark pools of black into Steve's soul. Steve silently pleaded back with his own eyes, just wanting to get out of this situation alive.
"Release me, I beg of you. I will cause you no trouble."
"I do not believe you, you will leave this place and call fleets of your men here to hunt me down." The merrow said panic evident in his voice now.
Steve's own panic subsided for a moment and he realized this creature did not seek to kill him for pleasure, but to avoid being killed itself.
Steve took a chance and lifted his hand to touch the pale arm that held the merrow aloft above him in a gesture he hoped conveyed comfort. He did so slowly, as not to startle, and gently so the merrow knew he had no intention to harm. The merrow eyed him wildly and with fear, but it allowed itself to be touched.
It's skin was cool to the touch and droplets fell from its skin as Steve wrapped his hand around its wiry forearm.
Steve tried to reach for his signature charm, the one his father swears he learned from him.
"I promise, I mean you no harm. I have no fleets of men. Half my fellows are so foolish they could not hunt down their own behinds" Steve said.
The merrow stared at him, eyes shifting about, looking him up and down for any hint of deception.
"I will not hurt or attack you, please just remove this device from my neck."
The Merrow seemed to steal it's resolve for a moment. then slowly the pressure was removed from Steve's neck. and the merrow slunk into water.
Steve sat up on the rocky shore. Without the creature's hair blocking out their surroundings, Steve saw he was in some sort of watery cave. Dark grey walls surrounded him as far as he could see, and a vast black lake stretched out in front of him. If only Steve could remember how he got here.
He looked back at the creature and saw the object that had been held to his neck was a jagged, broken shell that hadn't yet been worn smooth by the ocean. The merrow still held it nervously as it bobbed in the water at Steve's feet.
Even with half of it's body submerged, the merrow was nearly eye level with Steve. So either the water is shallow here, or the creature is of substantial size.
"Does this mean I'm free to leave?" Steve asked.
The merrow shook it's head. Black curls shaking out droplets of water with the motion.
"I cannot be sure that you won't return with weapons or more men" it said, "I searched your person while you were asleep, I took the dagger that hung around your middle, and the one on your leg."
How long had Steve been unconscious?
"Did you steal me away from my ship?" he had to ask.
The merrow looked offended at the suggestion.
"Steal you away? You intruded onto my home!" it said as it started rising out of the water. A jet black tail emerging slightly from the grey ocean.
Steve shrunk down and put his hands up in surrender.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I have no memory of arriving here."
The merrow was taken aback at that and shrunk down into the water again.
"You don't remember?" it asked
Steve shook his head.
"You washed up onto my shore. No man has ever seen my shore before. Your treasures wash up here when your ships crash in the sea outside, but no man has ever washed up with them before." it said, clearly at unease with the idea.
Steves heart fell. Does this mean his ship crashed? Is he the lone survivor? he doesn't think he can take the thought of being left without the friends he's made on that vessel.
"Did- did anything else wash up with me?" Steve asked.
The merrow shook its head.
"There hasn't been a wreck near here in months."
Steve felt his spirit lift. That could mean his crew mates are alive and well!
But then how did he end up here? Steve tries to remember. His head aches something fierce.
"Why does your face look like that?" The merrow asked.
Rude.
"My head hurts"
The creature cocked its head to one side.
"You creatures are strange and delicate. Have you hurt yourself?"
"Hurt myself? I only just woke up! It's more likely you hurt me, than I hurt myself!"
Steve clutched his head in one hand and gestured at the creature with the other. He feels rather helpless in this situation.
"I did not hurt you! I removed you from the water. You creatures are not supposed to be in there!" The thing pointed towards Steve with its shell, as if illustrating what 'creatures' it was talking about.
"Well then, however I got to be there is how I hurt my head" Steve explained, aggravated by this easily excitable monster he's found himself with.
The creature frowned at him for a moment and then faster than anything it dove under the water. It's tail following behind it in a lithe arc like a sea serpent.
Perhaps it is a sea serpent. A strange shrill sea serpent with very soft skin.
Almost as fast as it left, the thing burst back out of the water.
Steve flinched away from the splash.
"Hold out your hand" the merrow demanded.
Steve held both his hands closer to his body.
"Why?"
The merrow lunged forward and grabbed one of Steve's hands.
Steve yelled, startled, his feet scrambled at the stones beneath him trying to get away from the shockingly strong and clamy hand that held his arm tight, but his leather soles slipped on the wet rock and Steve stayed put.
And then something slimy and oddly coarse fell into his palm.
The merrow shoved Steve's own hand towards his face.
It was seaweed.
"Wh-"
"Eat it."
Steve's eyes shot up to meet the merrow's.
"Raw?!"
"It helps me when my head hurts. It will help you."
Steve grimaced at the yellowish-brown pile in his hand.
"Is it medicinal in some way?"
"It is food."
"Ah."
The merrow starred at him expectingly.
Steve starred right back.
"I'm not going to eat this."
"Then your head will continue to ache."
"I don't think the lack of edible gunk is the cause of my headache, I believe it to be the same thing that's causing my amnesia" Steve said shaking the offending object out of his hand, "I must have hit my head when I was washing up on your shore."
"Like I said; you are strange delicate creatures," the merrow reached out his unoccupied hand towards Steve, "come into the water."
Steve leaned as far away as he could manage.
"So you can drown me?"
The Merrow rolled his eyes. It looked remarkably human in that instance.
"So I can heal you"
He doesn't know if it's delirium or blood loss, but Steve grabbed the pale hand in front of him and slid gently into the water.
The creature wrapped one arm around his waist and pulled him closer to it. Steve felt the scales of it's tale press against his thighs through his trousers as he was held aloft in the freezing water. His feet dangled and he couldn't feel a bottom to the lake, nor to the creatures tail.
The merrow threw the shell that was in it's other hand away somewhere and grabbed a handful of the black water. It brought it's hands up, dripping the water onto Steves head. The cold shock seemed to ease his pain. Steve closed his eyes at the relief.
He felt an even pressure on the top of his head. A tingling sensation washed over him, trickling from the point of pressure down his neck and over his shoulders. It sent Steve's body shivering.
He opened his eyes and was met by two dark eyes staring back at him. The merrow was less than an inch from his face. one of it's hands was firmly planted between his shoulder blades, and the other was atop his head emitting the magical sensation.
"You had a bump on your head."
"Had?"
"I rid you of it."
Steve felt the hand trail down from the top of his head through his hair- still wet from whatever circumstances lead him here- and down his shoulder.
He does not understand why a monster would heal him of a headache, but as he is held steady in its strong arms and feels it's breath against his lips he doesn't think it wise to ask too many questions.
"Thank you." He said.
The merrow let go of him, and Steve pulled himself back up onto the shore.
He heard a wet thunk beside him and turned to see the merrow had joined him on the rock. Its body was facing Steve and it's tail was splayed out in front of it bent at the midpoint as if the thing had knees.
It's tail alone was twice the length of Steve's entire body and it tapered along its length until exploding out into 2 wide tail fins that had the jagged edges of burned parchment.
Suddenly the creature unbent it's tail, laying it across Steve's body and curling the end slightly around his waist. it was surprisingly heavy and the large scales had the texture of smooth river stones against his abdomen.
Steve looked bewildered at the creatures face, who had the same fierce and angry look as when Steve first woke up.
"So you will not run away." it explained.
"how many times do I have to tell you, I will bring no harm to you, even if I escape."
"I cannot take that chance."
"How long will you keep me here then?"
The tail wrapped halfway around Steve's waist constricted slightly, almost causing him lose his balance. The creature beside him leaned in menacingly.
"You will stay here until I can be sure you can be trusted." it said.
"And when will that be, hmm? What could possibly convince you?" Steve asked.
The creature looked down at itself for a moment, seemingly thinking of a solution.
"I- I don't know. I will. I will know it when I know it."
"Oh! You will know it when you know it. Thats fantastic." Steve spat.
"Well you have done nothing to prove your trustworthiness to me thus far" The creature spat back.
"Exactly! I have done nothing! I have not attacked you, I have not tried to escape, I have made no attempts on your life. I have been a model captive! Whereas you, foul creature that you are, have threatened my life, stolen my belongings, and tried to feed me muck from the bottom of the ocean!" Steve had snapped, pushed to far by this infernal creature and it's damp dank lair "And now I find you have no plan for my release. You know, my mother used to tell me tales about you creatures, but she neglected to mention just how stupid you are!"
The creature just looked at him, dumbstruck by his outburst.
It uncurled it's tale from around Steve's waist and moved it back into the water. It slid it's body so it was sitting beside Steve, instead of facing him.
"What is your name?" the merrow asked.
"What?" Steve replied
"What is your name?"
"Is this some kind of trick?"
"No. You say you have been a model captive; I wish to be a model captor. What is your name?" it looked at him with pleading eyes.
Steve sighed and ran a hand over his face. What has his life come to?
"Steve, my name is Steve." He said.
"And you do not eat seaweed, Steve."
"I-" Steve groaned, "I eat seaweed, of course I do, I live on a ship. I just don't eat it raw and fresh from the bottom of a pit is all."
"So how do you eat it." The creature asked.
"You let it dry and cure, you boil it over a flame. Do you know what flame is?" Steve asked.
The creature rolled its eyes again.
"Yes, I know what flame is. If I build you one will you eat?"
Steve was taken aback. The monster is worried about him eating?
"I- yes, I suppose" Steve stammered, "do you also have a pot to boil water in?"
"A bucket washed up last month, will that do?"
"Why yes that will do greatly" Steve said.
The creature quickly disappeared into the water.
Steve sat back on his hands; confused and... oddly touched by the gesture.
Despite the creature's constant suspicion, Steve hadn't even considered just swimming out of here. Mainly due to the fact that he has no idea where he is, if there is land near here, where his ship is, or even how to find the opening to this cave in such dark conditions.
He is tired and befuddled, his wet clothing is sticking to his skin uncomfortably, he is chilled by the air and sore from the hard rock, and now that he thinks about it, he is near starving. So, he truly does appreciate the Merrow's offer to build him a fire.
The merrow reappeared holding a rusty bucket aloft the water's surface. It handed the bucket to Steve, who found dry wood, flint, and a knife at the bottom of it.
Steve smiled.
"Where did you find all this stuff?" he asked
"Treasures wash up here after shipwrecks, I told you that before," The merrow said pulling itself back onto the rock, "now would you like to build the fire yourself, or shall I?"
.....
Steve started the fire, closer to the cave wall than to the edge of the water, and set the bucket, now full of water, carefully in the middle of the flames. It will take awhile before the water boils, but that just gives Steve time to lay his clothes out to dry.
He rid himself of his trousers first, the wet denim was the greatest offender to his skin, and his white linen shirt came after it. He laid them both flat in front of the fire.
He looked around, the creature was still gathering food. He's grateful, he feels oddly modest about being in the nude in front of the merrow.
Steve was crouched down warming his hands in front of the flames when he heard a telltale splash from behind him. He covered himself with his hands and whipped around to see the merrow had returned with 2 handfuls of seaweed and a small fish caught in its mouth.
It looked Steve up and down from its place in the water and then released the fish from its jaws onto the rock.
"Your clothes are gone," it pointed out.
Steve gestured with his chin to where they lay in front of the fire.
"I'm drying them."
"Ah," it said lifting itself by the elbows up onto the shore, "come take this stuff from me, I can't get over to you, it's difficult to move across land in this form."
Steve walked over to the merrow and grabbed the fish and seaweed from it.
"You say in this form; do you have another?" he asked
The merrow eyed him oddly.
"I thought your mother told you of us?" it asked.
"Well, yes, but she also told me the men of your species have the faces of hogs. As you clearly do not look like a hog, I figured she may have gotten some things wrong."
The edges of the merrows mouth twitched upward. It- it's smiling!
"I have a legged form as well. I could get my cap and join you for dinner?" It said.
So, she was right about the caps too. At least Steve hasn't been paranoid about nothing.
"Thats not necessary." Steve said, though he must admit he was curious.
Steve walked back to the fire and dumped the fish and seaweed into the water that had started to form small bubbles. They still had a while to go.
Steve turned back to the merrow, who was sitting on the rock, splayed out, scales and all, like some kind of ancient stone carving. It looked up at Steve, waiting for him to say something. Steve felt the need to cover himself again, the gaze of this creature is just so insistent, but he thought the act would just draw more attention to the area. Instead, he decided to ask something that had been nagging at him.
"Do you have a name?"
The merrow was taken aback for a moment before it answered.
"I was called Edward once."
"Once?"
"I was banished by my people to this cave, I haven't been called anything since then." it said, eyes going sad for a moment before snapping out of it.
"Edward the Banished" Steve mumbled.
"I suppose," Edward said squirming uncomfortably.
Steve hadn't expected him to hear that.
"I left my home to follow a friend onto a pirate ship that I quickly found was made up of novices who had never seen the inside of a ship before."
Edward raised his eyebrows at that.
"I see. 'can't hunt down their own behinds' indeed."
Steve breathed out a small laugh.
"I wasn't lying."
"Hmm..." the creature's mouth flattened into a thin line once more.
It doesn't believe him, not entirely.
No matter! Steve is just glad that it calmed down enough to allow him food and freedom of movement.
When the food was finished cooking Steve brought the bucket over to where Edward was sitting, or laying... where Edward was beached.
It frowned at him.
"You are sharing with me?"
"You caught it for me," Steve said taking a bit of meat from the fish.
It was saltier than he prefers it, but at least it was food. Which reminds him.
"Did I still have my water when I arrived here?" he asks.
"The bladder you had around your belt?"
Steve nodded.
"Yes, I took it along with your knives, I thought it had potential as a weapon," The merrow said, gnawing on seaweed.
"How long was I unconscious?"
The merrow frowned at his food.
"I'm not sure. The sun was just starting to set when I found you by the mouth of the cave, and it was fully dark when you awoke."
That means it could be as little as 5- 10 minutes.
"Do you need me to bring you your water?" Edward asked still gnawing.
"I would like that yes, but where is it that you go to fetch these things."
Edward looked him in the eye, squinting to see any hint of devious intentions on his face. Steve is getting tired of the scrutiny.
"I'm not going to tell you where your knives are, but I will bring you your water." the creature said slithering away into the depths once again.
Steve sat there, bare as the day he was born, and wondered what it would take to get this thing to trust him enough to let him go.
When the merrow came back with his bladder of water Steve tried not to drink it all in one gulp. It was so refreshing, and he was so thirsty, but he doesn't know how long he will have to be here, so he needs to ration.
"I have decided how you will earn my trust." Edward said out of the blue.
Steve nearly spilt his drink in his excitement. He put his water down and wiped his chin.
"What is it?" he asked.
"You will tell me more about your ship, and I will go out in search of it to see if the stories you tell are true." it said tapping its tale against the stone it sat on in no particular rhythm. it looked nervous about this plan.
"You'll find my ship?" Steve asked, amazed at his own luck.
"You will come with me so I know where you are, and I'm not giving you back your weapons, and I will keep tight hold of you, and if I find your ship and it is not the novices you said it was, I will leave you stranded on a sand bar," it said sternly.
"Okay! what do you want to know first?" Steve asked leaning forward, excited to get the process started.
"Tomorrow, you will tell me about your ship tomorrow. Now it is time to sleep" it said and then swam away.
It is a strange and confusing creature.
Still, Steve curled up on his clothes in front of the fire and eagerly laid down his head to rest. He at last sees hope of escape, and he can't wait until tomorrow.
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Not what I usually do here, but I have to. The new helluva episode. It broke me. It tore my heart apart and stomped on it. I can genuinely feel my soul hemorrhaging. A little part of me perished today. I legitimately got a headache.
Here's the thing. Blitzø's feelings are completely valid. I recently rewatched the show while I waited for the full moon to come out and he is right. Stolas, especially in the first season, was pretty classist. Blitzø did have a point when he said that Stolas treated him like one of his butler imps. He literally called him "my impish little plaything".
Stolas has had TREMENDOUS character development. He understood that the transactional deal was not in fact ideal or something to look forward to and he stepped up. He made a truly selfless move and acknowledged his feelings. But here's the thing. He also didn't give Blitzø a chance. He got in his own head so much that when Blitzø failed to understand his feelings at once, he gave up. He thought that all of his worst fears became true and because he overthought it SO much, he just gave up.
But Blitzø. Blitzø didn't shut Stolas off because he didn't have any feelings. He shut him off because he wholeheartedly could not believe that someone loves him and wants to be with him regardless of any physical or material gain. And you know what. He did try. He told Stolas how he felt. Everything. How he thought Stolas only viewed him as a measly imp that fucked him raw. And Stolas had NO FUCKING CLUE Blitzø felt like that.
This episode broke me. I ugly cried. That's not to say I didn't like it, of course. This episode was a masterpiece from every single view point. The voice acting, the visuals, the dialogues.
I think so highly of you. I didn't realize you thought so lowly of me.
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pomefioredove · 2 days
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*does a little dance*
vil prompts you say? Can i get your take on Vil being confronted by Yuu's real and imminent return home? And it's their only chance too (ie. the portal can only be opened with a meteor traveling overhead and surprise surprise its passing NOW they have three days max)
*does a little jig, going away*
you guys love torturing this man omg. so much angst. I'm about to pour all my abandonment issues into him ikyk
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summary: yuu leaving type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, angsty, post-book 7 author's note: my partner has been ignoring me for the past few days (I can't figure out why) so vil is about to experience pain, as he should
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There are only six visible letters in lonely, and a thousand more hiding behind them.
The word carries such a weight with it, its meaning and its leaden implications, crushing the lungs of all who dare to shoulder it. It's a sore, tender sort of hurt, one that constricts the chest and numbs the limbs. Paralyzing, strangulating.
They say beauty is pain, but Vil has never felt more hideous in his life.
He had known; of course he had known. There was always a possibility you'd get your chance to return to your home, a world alien to him, and never come back. He'd been preparing himself for that reality from the moment he met you.
It didn't make it hurt any less.
Love is blind, but it's ignorant, too. Vil had pushed that thought to the back of his mind, covering it up with an if rather than a when, like throwing a veil over a tombstone. He had convinced himself that the chances of you leaving were slim, that when the time came, years from then, he'd be ready.
He wasn't counting on a few months.
"It works for about three days," you explain, a giddy smile on your face. He forces himself to share the expression. "The spell is so powerful, it can only be cast under specific circumstances... if I miss this, who knows when my next chance will be?"
Vil is an actor, yes, but this is different. This isn't something he's reading off a page to a room full of production assistants and actors. This is you and him, alone, tangled in an uncertain future with no ending in 12-point Courier.
His voice cracks. "That's wonderful,"
Sevens, is he selfish.
A part of him wants to slap you across the face and call you an idiot for even thinking about leaving him here, let alone being excited about it, but he can't even move his feet from where he's standing.
He should be celebrating with you.
He should be happy that you get to escape this terrible place. You get to go home, where you're accepted as you are, and loved, and where you belong...
But you belong with him. He accepts you. He loves you. Why do you need anyone else? What can they offer than he can't?
It's an egotistical fantasy Vil holds in the back of his mind for the rest of the day, one where you wake up and realize that your place is here, by his side, and not a world away from him.
He tries to convince himself it's not the end yet. Perhaps the spell will fail. Perhaps Crowley will change his mind. Perhaps someone else will overblot and throw the school into chaos. Each thought is more indulgent than the last, but without them, he might have lost his mind before noon.
What is he supposed to do?
Smile and wave while the only person who has ever understood and loved him unconditionally leaves him forever? Make a fool of himself pretending to be happy for you?
Every second without the certainty of seeing you the next day feels like an eternity.
It's wrong. He knows that. He can't keep you chained to the foot of his throne like a pet. You want to go, don't you? That's what you've wanted all along.
Once again, Vil only comes in second.
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lyrenminth · 2 days
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What we could be
Second part of the request about Joe and you getting divorce
Happy ending, second chance
I'm going to send the kids with my mom on Saturday. Would you like to go out and eat something or we stay at the house?"
Truthful to his word, Joe sent you a text. You didn't know what to answer, going out implied many things and you didn't want to be seen with him (harsh but true) but being surrounded by people made you more confident than being alone at his house. You didn't want to think what would happen if you were alone at his house.
"There's a coffee place we could talk privately. Saturday at noon" you answer back.
"Perfect!"
When Saturday came, you were so nervous you messed up your eyeliner twice. You remembered his words. "I never wanted a divorce" Was that really true? You never thought Joe was putting any effort into your relationship after Mackenzie was born. Everything was football and winning. You really try to talk to him, you really did and he wouldn't clear a damn space in his agenda for you.
You sighed, looking at your reflection in the mirror. You remembered the way Joe look at you when Julian mentioned the date.
Would you go back with Joe if he asked?
You didn't know. You loved him, he was the dad of your children but you were so scared. You didn't wanted to get hurt again.
When you arrived at the coffee, Joe was already there. He smiled fondly and stood up to kiss your cheek. Your hands were sweaty when you took your seat. "Should we order something?" He said looking at the menu. "I'm going to order an iced coffee" he stood up before you to set your order on the counter. You watch him interact with the employee, and you felt a pang in your chest. He was lovely, really polite. He would order your coffee like this many times before. Nostalgia hit you like a truck, but you weren't here to remind the sweet times.
When he came back you said a shy thank you and waited for him to sit down. "Well, thanks for coming" he smiled again. "Julian has the same smile at you" you pointed out. His smile grew bigger. "Yeah, the boys told me"
"Well, yes" you gulped, sipping your coffee.
He ran his hands through his hair, one, two, three times. Good to know you weren't the only nervous.
"I mean it. What I said in the house" he said, his eyes big and honest "I'm sorry I've never considered your feelings. I guess being a father made me realize the big responsibility I was carrying, but I completely forgot to be a husband" when you didn't say a word, he continue "I thought that by working more, earning more money would protect my family" he was sad "I never thought it would be the reason of losing it"
"Joe, this is not about the kids. I think you're a great father, and they loved you. This is about us" you sighed, tired of having this conversation "We forgot about ourselves. I tried to arrange dates you didn't show up. We had conversations like this before, I missed my husband and you weren't there so tell me" you voice filled with emotions made you stop for a second "...tell me why I should believe you"
"I-I still love you, Y/N" he confessed, staring at your soul "I want to share a bed, a house or a damn mug with you. No one else. You are the mother of my children and I still care about you "
"You didn't hook up with that reporter a month after our divorce?" you brought up. He pressed his lips and have the decency to look ashamed. "I was hurt, but yeah"
"Well, it was long ago" you realize after the divorce Joe went blank about his personal life. No one knew if he was having dates. It was hard to believe if he didn't.
"I understand if you're afraid, I'm very honest and very clear right now, I want a second chance" he declared, fully confident.
"Joe..." you pleaded, but looking at him felt so familiar. What would happen if you didn't divorce? Your family would be closer, children wouldn't be stressed but maybe you would be miserable, right? You loved him, you still do. Joe had all the respect and admiration on your side, but again you never felt the same support. "I love you, you're a great father but you haven't show me any different"
"Give me a second chance please" his hand looked for yours over the table, and when you felt it so warm and big around yours, your mind was in completely silence. You haven't touch Joe in three years. He was the love of your life, and yet...you were so scared.
At your hesitation, he confessed "I'm sorry to made you feel lonely, I regret it completely. I'm not going to talk about my wishes anymore. And I understand if you say no" he took a deep breath before saying "I'll retire this year"
The new made you flinch in surprise. "What? No? Are you joking?"
"No, I'm not joking. After the divorce I realize many things" he sounded honest.
"But you loved football!"
"Yes, but my body is asking for a rest. And football is not my family, doesn't make me cookies and hug me tight everytime they see me" you were crying at that point. If that's true, things could be so different. "I want you back. You're my wife, I made those vows for you. I love you"
"Okay"
"Do you give me a second chance?" he was grinning full of hope.
"Yes"
"You won't regret it, I promise"
55 notes · View notes
koolades-world · 1 day
Note
Heyy happy 2k followers man! Well deserved 🎉🎉
Can I request Asmodeus with prompt number 7? Thank you and congratulations on 2k once again!
thank you! of course i can!
you guys obviously haven't seen the rest of the requests yet but this event is telling me you guys really love asmo. i did not anticipate him being the most requested, but i don't mind writing more for him outside of this event if that's what the people want :)
enjoy <3
prompt 7 w/ Asmo
"Mc? Where are you? It's almost time to go! You know the party doesn't start until we get there." Asmo yelled out, searching the halls of the HoL looking for you. He'd checked your room and didn't find you, so instead, he decided to check the bathroom. He'd told you you could get ready in his bathroom, but you'd insisted you wanted your outfit to be a surprise.
"Asmo. I'm in here!" He was surprised to hear your voice coming from Mammon's room. That disheartened him a little, but he entered nonetheless. Mammon was actually nowhere to be found, but you were seated at his vanity, all your things scattered around on the table.
"What're you doing in here, you cutie? You look fabulous." He gave you a side hug, scanning your face.
"Thank you! I thought really hard about how to match this necklace." You placed a hand on your neck, showing off the centerpiece of your outfit. "Mammon wanted to go shower, so I just offered we swap places since all I needed was a mirror to do my hair." You resumed what you were doing before he walked in.
Asmo studied your outfit, admiring the color coordination and the way you used what you had available, but he eventually just started admiring you. You were more focused on what you were doing, but he was enthralled with you. The way you squinted a little when you focused and the way you unconsciously furrowed your eyebrows was endearing to him. He enjoyed these moments of peace with you before going out. While he lovingly stared at you, he realized the odd familiarity your outfit brough him.
"Is that my shirt?" He had given you free access to his closet, but this would be the first time you'd actually taken him up on that offer.
"It is! It was the last piece to my perfect outfit. Hope you don't mind." You beamed at him. He couldn't have been more happy.
"Do I! Of course I don't. You look absolutely darling in that shirt. In fact, I'm tempted to let you keep it, because you wear it better," he squealed. He plopped down in your lap and set his head on your shoulder. You looped one arm around him as best as you could to hold him in place. He loved the way you looked when you laughed.
"No, you should keep it so I always have an excuse to slip into your room." You continued fixing your hair as the two of you chatted.
"You're always welcome in my room silly." He wouldn't lie, he wanted you in his room every chance he got so he got all the time he wanted with you for himself.
"That's true. Still, keep the shirt. I think it looks cuter on you. Nobody can wear anything better than you." The way you smiled at him made him feel like he was the only demon in the Devildom.
"You know the way right to my heart! As long as you promise to come borrow it frequently." He conceded to you. He always caved to your demands.
"Cross my heart and hope to die." He knew that that was a human saying. He still didn't full understand it, but he recognized the emotion infused within in it. The way you said the words was more than enough for him to know what you wanted to convey to him.
"Ah, I just adore you. We're late to that party by now, but that's fine. We're fashionably late, and besides, I'd skip any party to spend time with you." He began to play with the baby hairs at the back of your neck, sighing contently. He hoped you understood the meaning behind his words. He was far too scared to say the L word, afraid of scaring you off, but he always tried his best in his actions to help you understand his words unspoken.
As if you heard what he was thinking, you said, "I feel the same. If you wouldn't mind, do you think we could just sit like this for a little bit longer? I love us time." Asmo felt his heart catch in this throat at the mention of the very word he was petrified of using.
"Yes, but not too long. I don't want Mammon to ruin this moment. We can canoodle at the party too, you know." He remembered at some point that they were in Mammon's room, and that he could be back at any moment. He'd for sure break up the fun they were having.
"I have an idea, then. Hang on tight." The last thing he was expecting was for you to get a tighter grip on him and stand up with him in your arms. He playfully shrieked and used that excuse to huddle closer to you. He loved you, in a way he'd never knew he could love before. He just never anticipated it would be a human that made him feel the way he did. It didn't matter to him though. Perhaps someday he could muster up the courage to utter those three simple words to you.
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noveauskull · 1 day
Text
How WUWA Men React To You Being An Alcoholic (SFW)
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characters: geshu lin, jiyan, scar, calcharo, mortefi, aalto, yuanwu
warnings: heavy mentions of alcohol addiction, inaccurate ways to getting rid of alcohol addiction or improper help for alcohol addiction is also mentioned
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GESHU LIN:
He comes to the conclusion that you're an alcoholic everytime you come home smelling like alcohol
He's not stupid, so he knew for a while, he just wanted to wait and see when you will tell him, though you never did, cause you believed he never knew
He confronts to you about it after growing impatient, and you tried to lie to him because you didn't want him to know that you were an alcoholic, but it's no use, he's determined to find an answer
When you started feeling an immense wave of guilt, you started to cry and bury your face in your hands, confessing that you couldn't get over the addiction and how its affected your other relationships
You weren't surprised when he said that he doesn't care about you being an alcoholic, but you've already heard those words from many of your exes before
But he still insisted on staying by your side
But you remind yourself that Geshu Lin is a strong man. I mean, he's literally a General, he can handle anything
Now if you ever come home drunk he just kisses you and asks you if you could come home sober to get drunk with him instead
He's the type to encourage your bad habits as long as long as he can be with you (green flag but at what cost?)
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JIYAN:
You would confess to him about having a drinking problem right off the bat, there's no way you could lie to your beloved boyfriend's face
You knew he'd be understanding, but you were sort of bummed out when he suggested on keeping you away from any alcohol
He'd make sure everytime you came home he couldn't smell a single drop of alcohol, if he did, he would be very disappointed, and only increase the amount of things you need to do to keep yourself from drinking
He may be strict, but he's doing this for your own good, he doesn't want you to face any issues with your body and wants you to remain healthy
Often times when you feel so stressed and hurt, but you can't drink alcohol, he'd let you run to your arms and cry as much as you wanted, whispering sweet and comforting things to make you feel better
Of course, the addiction doesn't go away that easily, so whenever you make it pass the week without drinking alcohol, he lets you get crazy drunk on saturdays so you can rest with him on sundays after being completely wasted and hung over
Slowly but surely, he'll help you overcome it
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SCAR:
You never told him you were an alcoholic, but things started to get real obvious as time went on, and he sort of put the conclusion up himself that you were addicted to alcohol
At first, Scar didn't care if you're an alcoholic, matter of fact, he wanted to get drunk with you or at least be present in every moment you get drunk just so he could have some entertainment
But his excitement wears out fast when he realizes that you're drunk almost every time
That's when he starts to worry and he tries to find ways to keep you away from alcohol
Unfortunately that led to a huge fight between you and him, that's cause he found your stash of alcohol in the bedroom closet under your clothes and got rid of them
The argument happening while you were drunk of course, but you immediately feel sorry when you saw how serious he was about this
He'd give you juice boxes to take to work instead of you having to sneak alcohol into your waterbottle
He is very sharp, so don't even bother doing something as dumb as sneaking alcohol in
If you try to come home while you are drunk, chances of you sleeping on the couch/him sleeping on the couch away from you is very likely, so don't make him upset
He's crazy, but he's even crazier for you
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CALCHARO:
For a man at his grown age, he had no idea that people can get this addicted to alcohol
He only knew about alcohol addiction when you would come home smelling like every different alcoholic drink in the world
When he asks you about it, you had no choice but to be honest and say you might have a small drinking problem
He didn't think it was a huge issue at first, so he didn't mind you drink alcohol to the point that it's literally part of your scent
But on some days, he would come home to you frantically trying to find something worth drinking, and your behaviors when you're sober too long started to become abnormal
That's when he decided it was enough and grabs you by the arms, making you look at him while he tells you to get a hold of yourself, and that he will do anything to help you
It took you a while, but he managed to help you get through your addiction just by showing you more affection, he himself has no idea what he did either, but just his presence alone makes you feel like alcohol might not be worth it at all
He is literally worth more than any addiction
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MORTEFI:
No way, not on his watch.
The moment he smells alcohol, he's alright with it cause it was only one or two times
Anymore than three or four times is a cause for concern, but over five times? Get it together, he is not letting that happen to you
You can try to explain to him that this is all you needed to help you get over a full day of stress but he is not listening to you, instead, he's too busy finding your other stashes of alcohol that he has no idea about
He's a bit upset at you for not telling him about your problem and hiding things from him, but he is understanding and will make sure you never touch a class of alcohol ever again
That means going through heavy lengths to keep you away from any place that sells alcohol, even convenience stores
Yeah, he's a bit crazy, but honestly, his determination to keep you away from alcohol is kinda admirable, and cute
It's even funnier when he starts pulling up random cases of people who have heart problems on his phone, showing you why you shouldn't drink (it won't work but it's cute to see him so desperate to help you change)
He's forceful, but he's doing it for your own good, and he's cute while doing it so it doesn't matter
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AALTO:
He thinks it's his fault you became an alcoholic, even though he's not even close to being the reason why you're like this
That's because before you two were official you two would often go and drink together
Anyways, he is making sure you don't drink too much alcohol
Truth being, you drinking alcohol is fine, but if you drink too much it might affect your body, and knowing you're struggling mentally with stress, he doesn't think giving your body struggles is any better
Whenever you feel like crying or getting aggressive, he's taking all the hits for you, anything you are going through with he'll take the damage for you just so you could get a chance to breath and get things out of your system
He tries to find you a new hobby, such as playing video games or gardening, anything to give you some sort of relief
Oh and he loves making jokes with you, anytime you look grumpy or sad, he'll keep throwing in jokes until he sees the corner of your lips move
Eventually you gotta let out a small giggle, cause this guy is way too sweet and goofy for your own good
Although it doesn't help with your drinking problem, it's still nice to know he's willing to go through these lengths for you
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YUANWU:
He doesn't expect you to be an alcoholic, but he isn't that serious about it
He is aware that it's an issue that you're so stuck on drinking until your whole immune system fails but he doesn't show you how worried he is
Instead, he makes it subtle to help you change your ways
Such as taking you out on midnight walks
Or even making you drink every flavor of tea he has, so that your mouth and bladder gets tired of all the drinking
He always asks how your day was, but ever since he knew about your drinking problem, he starts making you go into detail without you realizing
Funnily enough, he even recomended you to start boxing, this is just so he could keep an eye on you though
You might think you're slick when you sneak in some alcohol in your bag, but he knows, so he also, secretly takes the alcohol away from your bag without you noticing
That's literally how you knew that he knew about your alcohol addiction
You're very glad he didn't shame you for it, or even bothered talking to you about it, he just immediately went to finding ways to help your issue in anyway he could
Truly a gentleman
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A/N: PHEW I FINALLY PUSHED ANOTHER ONE! Next up WUWA Men when you act like a brat! (In a few hours)
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rise-my-angel · 3 days
Note
Some stans actually believe that once Jon learns of his true parentage he will be happy. Jon literally just wants to be acknowledged as a Stark, he wants nothing with that shitty prince or his fire loving family. He might get some closure knowing about Lyanna but Ned Stark will always be his daddy.
I was thinking about this, and really, it doesn't change much of Jon's understanding of Ned. He knows his father isn't telling him the truth, or at least by not saying a word to him about his mother, he is keeping information from him on purpose. He knows Ned was hiding something about his birth, because Jon spent his entire life wondering what couldve happened between his mother and his father to cause him to shut down about it, even to him, even to Catelyn.
Jon already is aware that Ned is hiding something. He just does not know the degree of the secret.
But also, I am sick of people dismissing Neds role in his life. Ned is not Jon's uncle. Sure by blood he is, but Jon was raised thinking that he is his father. He was treated just like a father treats his son, he was loved and given the same education that Robb got, he was raised in the family home getting to grow up with his brothers and sisters.
Jon didn't suddenly lose all those days or evenings he wouldve gotten to spend with his father alone. Didn't suddenly lose all of the times they acted just like a loving father and son with no hangups. He didn't suddenly lose the fact that to Ned Stark, Jon is not his nephew, he is his son.
Jon does not suddenly lose that Ned never even gave him a reason to feel like he wasn't a good enough son. He interacted with his father his whole life in a way that made him feel loved to the point that even now that hes dead, Jon routinely feels frustration that multiple older men in his life have tried to place themselves into the position of a father figure to Jon.
He was given a personalized version of the Mormonts ancestral sword, that was once belonging to Jeors son. Jon's honoured but he is not lost on the implication that Jeor looks at Jon like a pseudo son and it bothers Jon even then. Men can give Jon a thousand swords but it will never change that his father alone is Ned Stark. And keep in mind, this occurs during the period of time early at Castle Black where Jon is resentful and thinks Ned let him come here because this life was all he deserved. And he STILL refused to let someone sway him into seeing a man as a father figure other then Ned Stark.
Jon through all the insecurities and anger, loves Ned Stark as much as a son possibly could. More then once Jon thinks in situations that could lead to his death, about Ned. He always circles back to what would his father think or do. Jon dictates his independent, adult life based around learning to be the honourable man his father wanted him to be and does so without resentment.
My negative opinions of Rhaegar aside, Jon has no attachment to the thought of him as any kind of man. He grew up his whole life knowing the story that Rhaegar kidnapped Lyanna Stark. He grew up likely hearing the rumours that she was raped. He knew that kidnapping led to her dying tragically at the age of 16 in a way that clearly traumatized his father.
Jon has never been missing a father figure. He has always been missing his mother. Not missing a mother figure, only his mother. The only person he cares to learn about is her because shes the one person in Jon's blood he has never truly known. Then he learns hes heard about his mother his whole life, and realizes the bloodshed caused both for his conception and that she died without having a chance to be with her son at all.
Learning the truth is about realizing WHY Ned did the things he did. Why telling him about his mother was both too painful and too risky. Jon can be angry he was lied too, but does not change that Jon is smart and will understand that Ned did it all to protect Jon.
Jon will realize Ned did not need to raise him as his own son, in his home and family and give him love, to keep him safe. Jon knows Ned did all of that because he loves him the way Ned loved Robb or Bran. Jon will ultimately realize he never actually lost the father he grew up with, because Ned always considered Jon to be his son.
Learning the truth for Jon is about Lyanna, it's about learning that his mother died with her last words begging Ned to protect him because she loved him. It's about Jon realizing he is an echo of the dark shadows of Lyannas final months of life and that he needs to stand up and fight because she couldn't. That he needs to protect the ones he loves the way he wishes he could go back in time and protect her.
It's about realizing hes always had a father, because to Ned, Jon was always his son through and through. And it's about Jon realizing that he needs to live and fight because without him, Lyannas memory will fade away forever and he will not allow that to happen to her again.
Whatever people want to say about how Jon will feel about learning his blood is partly Targaryean, they will always downplay Jon also coming to terms with himself as a Stark.
However Jon will feel about the Targaryean side, none of that will take away that Jon will realize how incredibly important his Stark side is and always was. Their speculations about how Jon will feel about a man hes barley thought about his whole life, should never overpower that the truth leads Jon to the thing that matters.
That Jon Snow has always been loved, and he's always been a Stark. Because he was the son his mother died begging to protect, and he was the son that Ned Stark chose.
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3vergr3en · 2 days
Note
hi! I love your work! I noticed you've been a fan of eujoo lately... me too :,) if you have time or are interested, how do you think the andteam members would act when they have a crush? thank you!
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❥ How &Team would react to having a crush on you
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(🥐) PAIRING . OT9 x fem!reader
(🥞) A/N . ANON. I LOVE YOUUU. and thank you so much for requesting this !! and yesss, byun euijoo has all I've been thinking about (he's so cute that I'm getting pissed off.)
(🍮) ADDITIONAL INFO . everything below is just cutesy filth.
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Koga Yudai - K
hes actually quite shy surprisingly.
you'd expect him to be all like, "I like you!!" when he first realized that he thought more of you than just a friend.
but he's actually quite sheepish when it comes to you.
one glance from you has his heart pounding in his chest.
or one 'hi, yudai!' has his knees buckling.
he tries to make himself look and act perfect when being around you, deathly afraid of any mishaps happening bc all he wants is for you to think that he's cool :(
but he's so busy trying to perfect himself, that he fails to do the part where you had to be yourself.
"Yudai. You didn't need to do all of that if you wanted to impress me. You could've just asked me out." You smile fondly, combing back his curtain bands with your hand.
"I messed up my chance, didn't I?"
"Not yet."
Murata Fuma - Fuma
honestly not surprised when realizing.
he loves having you around with him and the guys,
or when you ask him to come over to help with some appliances.
He doesn't mind fixing them bc not only does he get to see you more, but he also doesn't want your place collapsing on you <3
you're independent, funny, and super sweet to anyone around you.
who wouldn't like you?
When he decided to go tell you,
he's SUPER straightforward.
"Y/n, the reason why I asked you to come see me today was because.. I found myself having feelings for you than I would for just a friend."
He knows what he wants, and he acts on it. he hates beating around the bush. (which is so attractive btw)
If he can have you as his now, why would he want to wait any longer?
"Oh! I.. wasn't expecting you to be so straightforward about it. Usually guys would just--"
"Well, I'm not like them." He chuckles, "I'm a man who knows how to treat a woman right."
Don't gotta say anymore, you're already planning a date with him.
(and possibly your guys's future together)
Wang Yixiang - Nicholas
he first realized he had a crush on you when the smallest things you'd usually do for him, start to have more of an effect on him.
like asking him if he had eaten yet, or grabbing an extra umbrella for him when it was going to rain.
YOU thought you were delusional-- no, HE'S delusional.
'she thought about me. omg, she wants me so bad, its embarrassing for her.'
NO. it's embarrassing for YOU, yixiang.
but he doesn't tell you right away, although his ways of showing that are teasing you even more than usual.
"no one wants to see you chowing down that, like calm down, no ones gonna take it from you." He snickers, finding joy in you glaring daggers at him.
"and no one wants to see that ugly face of yours, but hey, unfortunately, we all can't have what we want."
God. He's gonna marry you one day.
One day.
Byun Euijoo - Ej
SOOO shy whenever you walk into the room.
"Hi juju!" You greet happily, a bright smile over taking your face.
"Oh-! Uhm, hi.." He responds, a faint smile appearing on his lips.
HES SO AWKWARD THAT ITS CUTEEEE.
he's terrified that if the guys stopped talking, everyone, especially you, would hear his heartbeat drumming in his chest.
he truly finds you the most beautiful girl he's ever laid eyes on, and unfortunately, Nicholas has to hear all about his fanboy behavior.
"Euijoo, buddy." The older clears his throat as his hand grasps euijoo's shoulder, "If you won't tell her, I will."
"You wouldn't.." Euijoo trails off, a hint of betrayal was clear in his tone.
But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that nicholas may not be joking.
"wait-- no, I-I'll tell her, okay?"
and surprisingly, he did.
you found it adorable btw when he confessed his feelings.
he was fumbling over his words and unintentionally avoided direct eye contact the whole time.
he was just so nervous :((
"juju, you're so cute. you know that, right?"
"ah.. really? thank you then 😊"
Nakakita Yuma - Yuma
honestly, i feel like he would be in denial at first.
BUT NOT IN A BAD WAY.
just more of a, 'what if she doesn't like me back? I don't want to ruin our friendship' type of denial.
So, he tries to suppress them.
How did that turn out?
He barely lasted a couple hours before going out to your place for dinner.
and you greeted him with open arms and a warm smile.
It took him some time to process that newfound feeling.
With the help of responsible fuma and surprisingly taki (I know. but I think that boy has some good advice), he was convinced to tell you how he truly felt.
"You know, make sure you're clear, okay? Don't be vague or ambiguous." Fuma hums, patting the boy's shoulder.
"But like, also be mysterious too! Girls dig that." Taki chimes in.
(okay, perhaps I take that back.)
Asakura Jo - Jo
shy boi #2
he would want to spend more time with you, actually.
I mean yes, he is afraid to confess because he fears rejection.
but like, he cares about you too much to be distant.
so he just accepted it and opted to spend his last few times with you as a friend until you eventually let him off.
but it kept going for longer and longer.
he questioned why. maybe you were just oblivious to his obvious crush on you?
Nope. You weren't oblivious.
You knew right from the get-go that Jo might've felt a different way.
How?
His more frequent visits, asking questions about hypothetically dating a guy who so happens to perfectly fit the description of him.
He's so cute.
Shigeta Harua - Harua
shy boi #3
but he's the most composed out of all the members (besides fuma)
He hides it so well because he makes it look like nothing changed about him.
but even if he doesn't show, he feels it ALL internally.
and poor you, you don't even notice at all.
"Harua! Want to go to this restaurant that just opened recently?"
"Oh,, as in, like a uh.."
"Like in what?" You question, attention focused on your phone that holds the restaurant's website in.
"Ah, nothing. Let's go!" He smiles, watching you slip on your shoes.
I'll tell her one day.
Takayma Riki - Taki
HES SO PAINFULLY OBVIOUS, OML.
hes quite literally like a clingly puppy around you.
"Y/n! Where do you want to go today?" He'd question, eyes wide in anticipation.
"Oh, I was actually planning to stay home and just watch some TV-"
"I'll come accompany you!"
"Thanks.. Taki." You giggle, admiring his devotion to you.
"Should we get matching pj's for our sleepover?" Taki suggests. "Oh, since when did I say you were sleeping over?"
But when you see that pout, you feel some heart strings being pulled.
"Okay, okay. Fine. Yes, you can stay the night-- but NO matching pajamas.. yet."
"THERE'S A YET?!"
Hirota Maus Riki - Maki
just like nicholas, he tries to play it cool.
But he doesn't go all out like the other.
He's actually hidden it pretty well, just like Harua.
You guys already established a friendship that deals with a lot of skinship.
You guys pretty much act like a couple, just without the title.
It's no surprise that either one of you starts to form a crush.
It's so normal, it just felt right.
But to his surprise, you were the one to confess first--
completely taking him off guard.
"Wait- no! I was going to tell you first!"
"Well, you took too long."
"I was literally going to tell you 10 seconds ago."
"Yeah right."
"..."
"..."
"Want to go get some Ice cream?" Maki suggests, raising an eyebrow.
"Um, duh."
(all of the boys coo how cute you guys are <33)
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gojonanami · 5 months
Text
❝ 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,
12K notes · View notes
churipu · 4 months
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JJK MEN REACTING TO YOU GETTING LEFT OUT BY YOUR FRIENDS 𓆝 ⋆。𖦹°‧
ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, sukuna ryomen, inumaki toge.
ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. just jjk men being overprotective of you bye, and cursing.
note. guysssss, no requests pls, they're not open :(( and if you sent one in, i apologize but they're going to take a bit of time to do :(
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
before you did — gojo had already sensed that your friends were shit. believe me when i say that he has tried talking to you about it from the moment you introduced him to them during your weekly "girls night".
but you said that your friends were fine. gojo doesn't think so. ever since that day, every time you said you were going out with your friends; he came along with you, not leaving you out of his sight.
that includes today. your "girls night" or whatever — when you try to convince gojo that he didn't need to come with, but all he said was, "i am one of the girls, aren't i?"
so he came along. and he didn't regret it. not. one. bit.
your friends, he didn't even know how to describe them without slipping in a curse or two. because he couldn't believe you were actually friends with these douchebags. it was plain obvious they were leaving you out on purpose.
whenever you try to chime in the conversation, your voice is immediately toppled over by one of them. or when you try to walk beside them, they step a bit further — on purpose. he could tell.
the male was really glad he could smell the stench from a long time ago. so when you and him were walking behind them, fingers interlocked. he stopped walking, and it made you stop too, "what's wrong, 'toru?"
"let's go," he tugged you in the opposite direction from where your friends are walking to, "they don't deserve you."
the male was very upset for you. he wasted no time driving you home with him, giving you the love you deserved (and a pep talk on why you should never ever talk to your friends again).
𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
toji didn't even care whether he knows your friends or not. but when you convinced him that they wanted to meet him, he agreed (begrudgingly).
and everything went south when he noticed the different way they react to you — and to him. you and your friends were a trio.
it's always a trio. he never gets it, he's seen his fair share of shitty friendships among people. that's why he doesn't have friends (or people don't want to befriend him, doesn't matter).
it wasn't even a trio any more. it was a duo, with you on the side. toji noticed the subtle way they share a look to each other whenever you start talking — or the way they nudge each other when you do something. god, it pisses him off.
he swore if you weren't there, he'd resort to violence.
when you excuse yourself to go to the restroom, toji of course takes the chance to give a small talk (straight up threatening) to them. he waved to you vaguely as you walk towards the direction of the restroom.
"don't ever fucking talk to my partner again after this. y'hear me?"
the mood plummeted and you realized after you came back from the restroom. but you said nothing about it.
and like toji threatened, your friends never talked or contacted you ever again. which obviously saddened you — but the male told you how shitty they are and that it was a good thing they're not talking to you anymore.
to this day, you still didn't know it was toji behind it all.
𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍
he has no shame in speaking his mind. and he immediately sensed how your friends were treating you differently from the first time he sees them. the male wastes no time giving them the eyes, where he was clearly telling them to fuck off.
when you and your friends (and him) decided to take a break inside a restaurant, he was pissed. sukuna, didn't even want to come with at the first place — he actually forced himself to come for you. he wanted to make sure your friends knew their place.
he has a bold tongue. sukuna is spicy with his words, he could care less about what people think of him. so the second he hears a disrespectful comment from either one of your friends directed to you to make you feel like you're the odd one out, the male glowered at them.
"mind repeating that?" he questions calmly, but something in his voice was intimidating. as if he was about to jump up from his seat and strangle the hell out of your friends.
of course, your friends were silent. afraid of him.
"exactly." the male stood up, tugging you along with him out of the restaurant, "what friends you have."
you were embarrassed at the comment, and sukuna sensed that too. even if he was tempted to say more things about your friends — he held back. for you.
"you don't need friends. what more do you need than me?"
𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄
believe me when i say that he contemplated using his cursed speech technique on your friends. he had seen you come back from a night out with your friends, upset and teary eyed.
and from that day, he's always hated them. so when you said that you were going to hang out with them again — inumaki followed you, trailing after you like a lost puppy.
actually — scratch that, you were the lost puppy. trailing after your friends, behind them like you aren't even a part of the group. if it weren't for inumaki being there, it would just be you alone.
inumaki mutters out a lot of, "salmon" and "tuna mayo" to you. fuming.
you grabbed his hand, swinging it happily. at this point, you didn't even care about your friends — as long as inumaki was there, you didn't feel alone like you used to. so you did what you had to do since long ago.
ditch them.
"thank you for being here, toge."
inumaki was happy now, no longer in a foul mood, and he squeezed your hand, "tuna mayo!"
a little translation: "i'm hungry."
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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dr3c0mix · 6 months
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My Lovely Melody
Yandere!Rockstar x GN!Reader
CW: yandere is a playboy before he meets reader, suggestive (creepy) thoughts, minor obsessive behaviour
🎸 Axel's been in many relationships with both men and women alike, but all of his little flings felt nothing more than that, just flings.
🎸 And he was content with it, I mean being a famous rockstar meant lots of people wanting a chance with you and he indulged in that fact.
🎸 He could sleep with whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and he wouldn't have to deal with the commitment that comes with dating or any of that messy stuff.
🎸 So why the hell can't stop thinking about you ?!?!?!!
🎸 He scratched his head trying to make sense of it, his messy hair getting even more ruffled as he tries to get the image of your smile out of his head.
🎸 You were in a miscellaneous store full of alt clothing, trinkets and various other stuff when he walked in with his bandmates.
🎸 It was fairly normal when he came in the store. It was dim with some random punk song playing faintly in the background. His friends started exploring, looking at the graphic t-shirts and mugs shaped like skulls and the like.
🎸 He got a bit bored and wandered to the other side of the store. It had posters, candles and..who's that?
🎸 There you were, staring longingly at a plush toy sitting on one of the shelves, just standing there.
🎸 He didn't think much of it, probably just some person baked out of their mind. "Hey buddy, you doin' good?"
🎸 You snap out of your gaze and look at the big hulking man in front of you. You stutter out an apology and explain your little misfortune.
🎸 "So you want this..toy...but you can't afford it..?" He raises a brow at you as you nod, making him chuckle.
🎸 He thought for a moment, looking at the stuffed creature, well it wouldn't hurt to buy it for you, he's pretty well off from all the gigs and concerts he's been in so...
🎸 "How 'bout I buy this thing for ya then? But you owe me~" He winks, thinking he could score some quick sex for being such a 'gentleman'
🎸 But no, instead of a blush or a knowing smirk, you just looked at him with the widest, most innocent eyes he's ever seen, you were practically shaking with joy as he said it.
🎸 You thanked him profusely before listing off things you could do in return, treating him to some food, buying something for him in return, plain paying him back..he was a bit surprised.
🎸 "O-oh...uhm that was a joke heheh, y-you don't have to do all that babe..." He blushes.
🎸 The two of you head to the cashier, his friends spying from behind the aisles as his gaze is locked on the little ball of cuteness beside him.
🎸 Seriously? Did you even know who he was? This has never happened before...most of the time, he would pay for someone's drink or something and they'd be on his dick in seconds, but you, you were so..different...it felt nice..
🎸 You didn't even get it in a bag, you immediately took the plush after it was paid and hugged it close.
🎸 so cute so cute so cute so cute so cute!!!
🎸 "Hey uh..so me and my buds are in a band and uhm..wanna maybe..watch our next gig?" He asks nervously, he's never been so shy towards anyone!!
🎸 You agree, thinking it's the least you could do for what he did for you.
🎸 You take out your phone, Axel can't help but grin at the case, it was cute, like you~..
🎸 "Here's my number if..you need it.." You smile at him, that smile..that damn cute smile...you had his heart wrapped around your finger at this point.
🎸 "Th-thanks sugar..I'll see you there.." He smiles back as you part ways, he heads back to his friends who were bombarding him with questions as he watches you skip out of the store with your new little soft friend.
🎸 That night, he was getting ready for the show when he got a message notification and sees that you sent a picture of the show from one of the seats with some text "Good luck out there!"
🎸 His face was on fire as he realized you were there, he peeks out in the crowd and there you were, your little plush toy in tow.
🎸 You look so out of place from the people in spiky jewelry and dark outfits, you were just in a hoodie and baggy pants, albeit the hoodie had a MCR design on it, but you can tell it was very soft compared to the rest of the audience.
🎸 Finally it was time for the show to begin and it was the most passionate he's been in a while, it seemed as if the words he was singing were dedicated to you and you alone.
🎸 The little glances at you made you giddy, like a friend seeing their bestie perform, you were cheering excitedly for him, not in a fangirly way, but one of genuine support and amazement.
🎸 After the performance, Axel tried finding you, but the crowd was too big and he assumed you must have left already.
🎸 Wait..why is he being so buddy buddy with you? You just met today! It's not like you two were best friends or anything!
🎸 He tried dismissing the thought of you, tried distracting himself by flirting with other people, but he could only think about you, and making you smile like that again..
🎸 no no no! get out of my head!
🎸 Maybe a little fling can ease his mind?
🎸 Even on his bed with some random girl after show, he can still think of you.
🎸 Would your skin be as soft? or maybe softer? How would your hair smell? He bets your moans would sound delicious..
🎸 shit FUCK!!
🎸 Even after his one night stand, he kept thinking of you
🎸 He stares at your messages, you sent a lot of pictures of your plush toy doing goofy things to him, so cute..so silly...he can't help but smile.
🎸 He decides to look you up on social media and..
🎸 Wait a minute...you make music too?
yep this was a bit short but idk man i love making you guys suffer <3 stay tuned for part 2 (i am actually out of ideas guys please request me please please ple-)
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7K notes · View notes
ccsainzleclerc5516 · 2 months
Text
Preggers
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Warnings: fluff, smut!
a/n: sequel to Racing Simulator, enjoy!!!
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"Fuck.." You sighed closing your eyes. Your palms were sweating and resting on the sink as you waited for the results of the pregnancy test you just took without Lando knowing.
Your mouth went dry and your legs wobbled when you opened your eyes to see another line appear on the test. Positive.
Your body felt as if a heat wave just hit you. You were overwhelmed by a wide range of emotions as you put your hand over you belly trying to make yourself aware that a new life will grow in you in the coming months.
You decided to take the test secretly without anyone knowing because you didn't want anyone to put any kind of pressure on you. You've been feeling weird for the past two weeks and as a woman you knew something was happening to your body something you've never felt before.
The possibility of being pregnant immediately crossed your mind especially after coming onto Lando like a horny teenager that day in his racing chair. You were well aware that there was a great chance you were gonna get pregnant because you were ovulating and that very day you just had to spice it up.
You wisely tried to hide symptoms like nausea, inexplicable feeling of fatigue and headache. You even tried to fool yourself by attributing it all to stress at work, but it was only when you missed your period you decided to stop denying the possibility that you are pregnant. And now that you are standing over the sink looking at two clear lines, you have convinced yourself that a woman's intuition is never wrong.
You didn't even realize that a few tears ran down your cheeks until you looked yourself up in the mirror and blinked a couple of times. Taking a deep breath in you turned on the faucet and splashed cold water over your face to come to your senses before going to look for Lando.
When you finally managed to get yourself together, you went to the kitchen, leaving the test behind in the bathroom. You poured yourself a glass of water looking over the kitchen island at Lando who was lying on the couch in the living room.
"Baby?" He asked looking at you from the couch, but you just kept staring at him without blinking. "Is everything okay?" He asked again, but there was no answer from you which instantly made him get up and walk over to you.
"Y/n, what's wrong? Talk to me." His gaze was full of concern as he cupped your face between his hands making you look up at him.
"I-I.." You stuttered, struggling to get the sentence out. "I have to tell you something." You put your hands over his tightening your grip around them.
"What? Tell me."
"Uh..I.." Nervousness washed over you, words didn't have the courage to leave your mouth because you didn't know what his reaction would be. you didn't often touch on the topic of children even though you had been together for 4 years. You loved each other more than anything, but you wanted to enjoy your youth as long as you could.
"Y/n, please, tell me what's going on. You're all pale and I'm getting really-"
"I'm pregnant." You cut him off making his jaw drop and eyes widen. It took him a second to process what you just said before he chuckled and let out a deep sigh of relief.
"Baby..are you really?" His eyes sparkled. You didn't know at that moment, in fact, you were even confused by his reaction, but it was as if he had been dying to hear those words all this time.
"Yeah..I just took the test in the bathroom" You nodded your head smiling with teary eyes as he pressed his forehead against yours and laughed sweetly before tightly wrapping his arms around yours shoulders.
"You're freaking me out a little with how happy you are" You admit pulling back from the hug to look at him.
"Of course I'm happy. My woman is having my baby. How could I not be?" He couldn't hide his excitement and that was definitely a relief and an encouragement, but you were still kind of terrified of the new unfamiliar situation you found yourself in. "Are you not?"
"I mean..I'm a little scared. I wasn't expecting this now" He raised his eyebrows giving you a doubtful look tilting his head to the side making both of you laugh as he remembered that day he finished inside you without you complaining. "Oh stop it!" You laughed, softly punching his chest before he pulled you to himself again and you leaned your head against him.
"You have nothing to be scared of okay? I'll take care of you, of us. " His words and his hug were enough to erase every fear, every uncertainty and question mark above your head. His embrace was your safe haven, your refuge and your home where you felt the best. "We're in this together. It was going to happen sooner or later."
"You've thought about us starting a family?" You ask looking up at the blue eyes.
"For quite some time now"
"Really?" You asked visibly taken aback, but positively surprised.
"There was one particular moment when I started fantasizing about us having a kid. It was when you met Mila for the first time. When we came for a family dinner at my parents' house and then after a while you disappeared from the table and I found you two in the playroom having a tea party." Both of you smiled as he tucked your hair behind your ear reminiscing the heart warming moment.
"The way you played with her, the way you talked to her..It was so natural for you and she was delighted with you. I was just standing there at the door admiring the two of you and then my mom saw me and it was like she could read my mind right at that moment. She was like "don't wait for too long Lando". And that's when I knew, I knew you'd be the one to carry my baby one day. Nobody else but you."
"Baby, that's so sweet.." It looked like the pregnancy hormones had already kicked in because his words made you a whimpering mess beneath him. You were sobbing as you listened to the man you loved more than anything talk about everything a woman could wish for.
"Just think about us lying in bed in the morning, our baby between us. We're looking at her, kissing her, cuddling her..I can't wait to protect both of you for the rest of my life you know?"
The scene that you pictured in your head was heaven itself just like he described it and now the excitement and joy prevailed in you and the color returned to your face when you realized that everything would be fine. Everything would be just like you've always dreamed of and more.
"Now I can't wait to meet baby Norris." You said quietly giving a soft long kiss to his lips.
"Yeah, baby Norris." He proudly repeated after you loving the way it sounded. "And when are you going to let me make you mrs Norris?" He asked and you smiled shyly looking down.
If it only had been up to Lando, he would probably have married you that day when you met Mila. He knew you were the one for him. You were the one thing he was completely sure of without a single doubt in his mind. You felt the same way about him as well, but you always thought that you should wait a little longer, that you are too young, that you are not in a hurry. There was also a constant pressure from the public that you were not ready to deal with so Lando waited patiently for you to be ready.
"Now is the perfect time to take my last name." He said.
"No, people will think that you're marrying me only because you got me pregnant and I don't want that."
"I don't care what others will think. You and I both know that's not true. C'mon, baby, be my wife." He kissed you and you wrapped your arms around his neck giggling into the kiss as he seemed to propose you right then and there.
"Maybe I should accept it now that you're offering because maybe you won't want to marry me later when I'm all fat and swollen."
"Me not wanting to marry you? That is unlikely to ever happen. Besides," He says between kisses, gripping your ass he pulled you to him pressing you against his already semi hard crotch. "I can't wait to have you walking around with round belly and full breasts. Fuck, it's turning me on so much." His hands moved to your belly gently rubbing it then up to your tits underneath your cropped wide t shirt giving them a tight squeeze.
"Is that so?" You smirk deciding to go along with what he just started. "You gonna help me out with sore breasts?"
"Fuck yes baby. Gonna take such a good care of you. " The soft kisses quickly turned into more passionate and deep ones pushing tongue into each others mouth. "Turn around for me" You do as he pleases bending over the kitchen island as he grinds himself against your butt.
"I'm so hard, can you feel it?" He whispers into your ear making you shiver. Pulling your legging just below your butt, his hand slips inside your panties. His fingers quickly trace over your wet folds before attaching them to your sensitive bud. "So wet for me, fuuuck. You're my good girl, aren't you?" You nod closing your eyes and throwing your head back on his shoulder.
"Arch your back for me" He gently takes your hips in his hands pushing you onto the hard cold surface and collecting your hair into a ponytail. Teasing you with his tip at your entrance you push yourself back against him until you have him deep inside you.
"Ahh, feels so good"
"I wish you could see my point of view right now, so fucking hot." His eyes were glued on his cock disappearing into your pussy, drenching him in your wetness. "I'm not pulling out anymore, I'm gonna cum in you every time you let me fuck you"
"Oh Lando..yess, please"
"Everyone will know that I'm the one who put a baby in you. That I fucked you so good, filled you up so deep, yeah? Shit, baby.." His hands were desperately clutching at your hair while he was slamming hard into your hole. The slapping of your skin against his echoing through the kitchen.
"Yes, you fuck me so good Lando. Keep going, I'm so close." A couple more thrusts later, his hot breath against your skin and soon you were reaching your highs panting out his name.
"Fuck baby, look how much you came" His eyebrows furrowed and lips parted groaning when he saw that you left white ring around his cock taking him again and again. "Gonna play with your pussy every day. Shit, I'm gonna cum, oh shit" The sight drove him crazy, you could feel him pulsating before he spilled his cum inside you pushing his cock as deep as it went.
"You did so good, so so good." His arms pulled you to him trapping you in a tight embrace as he left small kisses on your cheek and your shoulder.
You wince as you feel him pull out of you, your juices dripping down your thighs making him curse under his breath. Unable to resist the urge, his hand slips down to your thighs collecting the dripping cum with his fingers and rubbing it all over your pussy again.
"My beautiful, most beautiful pregnant girl."
3K notes · View notes
scara-writes · 2 months
Text
sweetheart
Yandere Emperor X Consort! (F)Reader X Yandere Crown Prince(platonic)
милашка-sweetheart according to google correct me if im wrong!
CW: kidnapped, reader is look down upon by the nobles, infantilize, forced pregnancy, dehumanizing, mentions of attempt suicide, false rumor, power imbalance, worshipping, delusional(?)
NOTE: Crown Prince is at the age of 16(he is your first/oldest son). Reader is around 36-38. Emperor is two year younger than the reader. Also I don't speak russian everything is google (the empire is not based on irl russian empire but a fantasy world like the manhwas/shoujou isekai we read) and english is not my first language you can clearly see when you read the story. This is purely a fiction and I do not mean to offend anyone.
I DO NOT CONDONE ANY ACTION IN THIS FICTION.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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Running is not ideal for a 5 month pregnant woman like you.
When you tried to seek help from your parents for the first time, they never helped you because who would believe an illegitimate daughter who was frowned upon by nobles.
You are an illegitimate child of the duke and a humble maid who passed away shortly after giving birth, but despite this, you are a physically and mentally healthy child. You even managed to withstand the attempts of your stepmother and your half-sister to discredit you in the family, and didn't even find a help to your neglectful father who busies himself of taking home many women from brothel.
That was in the past but you were desperate when you ask for their assistance. However, you never heard from them ever since you bore your first child, Ize.
Ize your son. Your lovely crown prince son grew up to be like your husband with his teachings. You tried to persuade him to never listen to his father but he only shook his head and told you that all his teaching that he was learning from his old man was to protect you.
Afraid that it will stress you even more in this suffocating high walls to protect you during your pregnancy and well being, Ize-the crown prince would be willing to act like a little kid for you. He would occasionally brew you a cup of tea that you enjoy or give you a handmade gift, such as an embroidered handkerchief, to show you that he was thinking of you and that said skill you taught him when he was a child. Knowing the child, this kind of acts is for him appease the worries you have;he is different behind closed doors of your confined palace where your eyes and ears can't reach; your crown prince son is a different person who will be willing to shed the blood of others just for you.
And it seems that the morals that you taught him must have been thrown out of the window thanks to your husband.
So here you are after escaping from the hundreds gazes of a watchful loyal hounds around your palace you escape, it wasn't easy since you are carrying the emperor's second child. You heard on a passing by servants that the two tyrants had a meeting with the other nobles and the neighboring kingdom, this is a rare occurrence that the two left you alone. It took you an hour to escape the royal grounds before exploring around the town till you found a port that would take you to another country. This is your only chance to escape that suffocating palace that those two tyrants confined you in. Your Husband, Yuri can't leave you alone not when he found out that you are with his child-a second child at that. Even before you were pregnant with his first child, his wary gaze and infantilization to you had multiplied tenfold.
Your husband spread the rumors about you being mentally ill. But why would he do such a thing? You reflected to yourself and it devastate you to realize it was his scheme to prevent you from seeking help from his subjects to escape. Only the royal physician and your husband were aware of this bogus illness. It felt betrayal that he has to make that action so he can confide you more.
Your husband's scheme worked. Even your own son believed the spewing lies coming from his father, and the nobles never gossip about you as if it was a taboo ever since you were married to the emperor. Speaking ill about the emperor's consort was just as good as the reaper visiting you by the second you speak those words. Only praises coming from their filthy mouths were allowed.
No one bats an eye on you, even the servants who serves under you. They will bathe you, serve you food, refreshments, but none of them will engage or start a conversation with you. When someone last made an effort to assist your escape, a kind servant at that. The lowest mining pit, which is worse than death, The emperor bestowed upon them to be sent the servant's family, including the said servant. High ranked criminals labour in a pit there for 18 hours with a maximum 4 hour break the rest of the hour are for necessities like sleeping, with much less food and income. In short, a death torture for them.
You implore your husband to kill them rather than send them there, the only thing he said to you that it wasn't your fault they were sent there. Something along the lines of—"you were acting like this because of your condition. That servant was attempting to kill you." He told you that in front of other servants. Everyone compliments his action for 'protecting' you. His cunning red eyes looks at you that none of the servants and nobles noticed but you did. It was a warning for you to behave or he will do worse.
Yuri has never harmed you, physically. but he will harm others who want to separate you from him.
The only time you regret your decision is when you met Yuri—he was about to meet his demise by the hands of his brothers if it weren't for you stumbling to see him in the middle of the night on an alleyway of the tsvetok village struggling to breathe from the deep pools of his own blood. So you drag his half dead body into your abandoned chamber—which is rarely visited by servants—that your father bestowed for you when you were born. Aiding his deep wounds, helping him heal up, befriending him, falling in love—
You purse your lips and gave a small wince feeling your belly is starting to ache, the kick from your unborn child thumps under your long dress.
My child please, Now is not the time! you gently brush your belly soothingly before leaning on the lamp post that dimly lit the night. You sigh in relief when you felt the baby inside of you cease on kicking. Although you were a little further from the palace when you looked behind you, you still needed to move quickly. Right now, you assume that Yuri or a servant that was suppose to serve you had definitely find out that you were gone this afternoon and notify the knights and some of high ranking mage to find you immediately, but the sun had already been sunk by the evening. They must have been having a hard time finding you. A little more 18 minute walk and you'll be able to ride on the ship that will help you travel to another empire, or any nation.
"ort---s--ing!" you turn to your left to look one of the vendors of the nights were gossiping. A woman with her husband was panting, assuming he was running to deliver a news to his family. His cloth headband on his raggedy hair is soaking. He took a deep breath before repeating what he said earlier. A dread of fear rise from your throat as he uttered his next words,
"The Emperor's Consort is missing! The Emperor's knights are blocking all way out!"
You heart felt like dropping when you saw a nearby knight were looking one by one at the women nearby, specifically women who are similarly pregnant like you. Speaking of the devil, they are already here!
Knights in horses, mages running around the busy street. Some of them stopping women who has similar hair color as you to assess if they found the right person.
"Oh my! I'm hoping the consort is doing okay! She must have acted such way due to her failing mental state. The emperor must have been worried sick, I can't imagine the devastion look of the emperor especially their son!" said the woman to her husband.
You hid your hair with your cape and quickly blend in with the busy road of the night town. Muttering, "excuse me!", "Apologize!" As you force your way around the crowd. One arm around your belly to protect child, while your hand went to sling your bag with clothes and some gold coins. as you bump so many people on the crowd. You look edges of the town, at the gate, to see all the possible exits were starting to get block by the imperials knights and mages. You bit your lips frustration as you felt the hope of getting your freedom back is slipping away from your grasp.
Your plan of getting to the port has been discarded after seeing a two mage and three knights were on their way there. Even if you did go in town's gate the gatekeepers will inspect people who are exiting and entering.
But...
You look at the old man who was riding a donkey with his carriage towards to exit of the gate, fruits were laying under the cloth. An Idea quickly pop your head but you are desperate to leave this suffocating country so you have no choice but to execute it.
Your silent foot falls went behind on a slow moving carriage before climbing up silently and quickly, in your haste and desperation movement, you didn't feel as though you had torn your cape at the wooden edge of the carriage before taking the fabric that was covering the fruits that keeps them from dust and dirt. You carried a handful of fruits before slowly sitting down beside it then covering yourself with the said fabric and the remaining fruit fast enough before the knights from the gate of this region would notice you. You wince when one of the fruit hit your belly but not enough to endanger the baby.
"Have you seen this lady?" A man in his mid 60s look at the paper, he squint his eyes as he held his old lightly crack glasses to take a better look. Your (e/c) eyes look at the gapping hole of the carriage and gulp fearfully when you saw your portrait on the paper holding by the imperial knight.
"O-oh...sa-aw her!" you held your breath when the old man spoke. The two knights look at each other before listening to the next word of what the old man would say.
He lick his dry lips before continuing, his voice's struggling due to his old age, "If I-Im..not mistake-en the lady in the p-picture look like the lady I saw by the lampost o..on the rozahk street!"
You exhaled in relief since you mistakenly believed that the elderly man had just seen you, but he actually noticed you five minutes' walk from the gate to roza street. However, this would also let them know that you are actually close by.
The imperial knights gave the elderly merchant a nod as they hastily walked around the city, alerting a nearby mage to use a spell to track you. They quickly tell their subordinates for a new command.
You felt the carriage starts to move. Hugging yourself for reassurance especially at your upcoming baby that everything will be okay.
You weren't escaping just for yourself but for your second child that will be born. You don't want your kid to become like their older brother and learn from their father. Ruthless, and doesn't have a compassion to another human. You want your kid to have a brighter future, away from the blood shed. You hope that if you got caught or killed by your husband in the future. You will tell your second child to run away and never look back, when you are gone.
You ignored how uncomfortable it was to sleep in the fruits. You close your eyes and see the farm neighborhood that the carriage passed as well as the slowly dissipating kingdom that was beginning to appear as a dot on the horizon.
The abrupt shake of your ride woken you up. You hear noises outside the carriage and glance through the hole to see that light was creeping through, signaling that it was dawn but sun has yet to come in the horizon. What is happening?. You peek above the cloth seeing that you don't have enough visual on what's happening. A dusty road lay in front of you, and woods surrounded you. You turn around to look behind you and realize that the palace is no longer in sight. A sense of relief that you were indeed far from that prison.
A bunch of voices caught your ears, you turned to look to your right.
Your whole body went pale.
Your son-the crown prince was chatting with each of the roadside merchants who had just exited from their vehicle not far from where you were. The imperial warriors and mages that were conversing with the other sellers the same task as your son was doing just behind him.
You curse yourself, how did they come here to fast?
You need to leave before they notice that you are inside this carriage. Just as you swiftly escape your imprisonment. You carefully stood up, removing the fabric that was covering you and the fruits, ignoring the woozy and aches from your muscle pain for not moving too much from the entire night.
A creak was heard in your vehicle when you tried to climb down. Snapping your eyes back at them, to witness if they heard the mistake you made. To your relief, The prince and the other guards were still busy interrogating.
They didn't hear me..
You reach down and starts to stalk away from them, your hands were trembling. Stepping back to reach the wood just a 5 meters behind you. It didn't matter if you get lost in the woods, as long as they don't catch you.
No, you would rather live in a woods, in a forest where no one can reach you.
As you step forward carefully in to the woods, you didn't notice from your cautious and anxious state that your boots crack a twig, just like the cliché you previously read. The nearest knight snaps his head at the sound. He was perplexed before realizing that the woman from the paper in his hand resembles you.
"Her majes-"
You dash toward the woods. The imperial knights sought to catch up to you, as you heard him behind. You grab a nearby rock and shot it directly to his skull, and it hits him.
You ignored the yelp as he yells your honorific causing the nearby knights hear him and went for his aid, before they realize what he was yelling and starts to chase after you.
You felt the dress that was getting stuck on some of bushes and dried branches, resulting to have your dress to be ripped.
Heartbeat were thumping agressively, adrenaline were rushing around your body. One of your hands went up to your belly protecting it from getting injured despite your legs were now full of scratches and bruises from the twigs, and sharp edges of these woods. You feel your legs ache.
"Mother!" You faintly hear a galloping horses along with your son's voice behind you.
Your mistake was to look behind you while running away. You saw how your son and his guards were starting to gain just to bring you back to that hellhole. Your son Ize was reaching up his hand to take you back, his red orbs were full of concern and anxiousness.
"Mother! It's me,Ize! Please, slow down you will hurt yourself!"he yelled."Mother! Think about my sibling! Your child! Listen to me! Don't let this illness take over you!"
Poor child, he thought all of this nonsense that you are doing was because of your bogus illness.
You were about to stop when you saw a nearby cliff but a trunk made you tripped.
You screamed feeling a misstep when you realized you are falling, instinctively cradling your pregnant belly, protecting it as you roll down from the ground. A piercing scream was heard—from your son. Your head colliding to the three and it felt like your head would split open.
Your eyes were blurry from the impact. Touching your belly if there was injury. Atleast trying to feel your lower part if there was bleeding through your thighs other than your legs.
You look up at the steep cliff to see your son was sliding down, crying out your title as his mother. You saw his red orbs were full of tears as it glides down to his cheeks. The last thing you saw before your vision was consumed by the darkness was his hands reaching up to your head.
You were awoken by the sound of the chirping birds coming from the balcony.
You coughed, feeling the dryness from your throat. You eyes were blurry for a few minutes before clearing to see that you were back to the same imprisonment.
But....
It wasn't the same room you shared with your husband. Are you...even in the palace?
You took your time to assess your surroundings only to realize that the room has similarities of the royalties room that are exiled but it looked renovated, one of your husband's brothers used to live here before taking his own life. You felt grim about the thought of it.
After his brother's passing you heard from one of the maids that he turned it into a vacation palace for royalties.
It was different from the last time you saw it. It was much more cleaner and better. It looked good after it was renovated.
Wait, the baby.
THE BABY!
You eyes quickly gaze down to your belly. Hands quickly feeling around them, you exhale in relief when you felt a small kick from your stomach. You felt your tears at the edge of your eyes. It was a miracle that the heavens hadn't take your unborn child away.
I'm sorry baby...
They would have died from the stupidity you'd done!
You laid down to your right side of the bed and cradle in your stomach muttering a soft apologies and starts fluttering your eyes to go back to sleep.
But somethings not right. You felt like a pair of eyes watching you, looking at you.
Observing you.
You opened your eyes and look up only to see your pair of red eyes staring down at you.
Your husband, the emperor sitting on a wingback couch, his face resting at his hand while the elbow is resting at the arm of the couch beside him is a kettle with a cup that rest on top of the bedside table.
You feel your body tense up, you tried to get up and turn to look at your husband.
"Y-your majesty." You called but it sounded like a whisper. You don't know what he will do to you. Sure, he never hurt you physically but this is the first time you'd gotten far away from the place he imprison you in.
You gulped, will he hurt you this time?
"I-I'm... I.." you cannot come up a word,an excuse, what if he gets sick of you? What would happen to your child?
You felt your breath shorten. Tears are starting to swell up in your cheeks.
A rough hand brush on your cheeks before cupping it. You found your partner is already beside you on the bed.
He didn't speak he just let you weep as he brush away your tears. You stammer your words wanting to apologize. The emperor handed you a cup of water and you took it quenching the thirst from your larynx.
Once you drank it all, you hiccup trying to stop your tears from coming out. You felt his hands caressing your belly. "H-husband.."you gulped.
"hush,милашка."he commanded and you held your tongue and closed your eyes when he leans on your cheeks before engulfing you with his arms around you. You felt suffocating around him like a snake coiling around your body.
You feel tensed as he starts peppering kisses on your shoulders and neck before resting his lips to your earlobes, you shudder when he kissed it.
His right hand from your waist slid up under your loose sleeve before sliding it down, your emperor leaned down giving your shoulder a hickey. You whimpered trying to push him away but he hadn't budge an inch. Once he was satisfied he let your skin go with a pop before looking at the red mark he left.
The same hand went to brush your hair, tuck it behind your ear before leaning his forehead against yours. His red eyes held adoration, affection, but most of all obsession.
"милашка." He muttered closing his eyes sighing, he brush his lips against yours before deepening it.
He kept calling you, held you in his arms gently. The same arms that has full of blood that slay so many heads to get to the top of this food chain.
He laid you down before kissing every finger tips of yours and then clasping it with his rough hands as he called for you.
"милашка...."
".... my милашка..."
He pressed one kiss on your collarbone. "None of this is your fault..." He told you.
"... This illness will be the death of you."
Your heart broke for him. He really delude himself that everything you did to get away from him was because of your 'illness'.
"... Everything will be fine, darling. I will take care of you." He dampened his lips one last time onto your lips before leaving you in your new confinement.
2K notes · View notes
yawnderu · 3 months
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cr: @ave661
Simon wasn't a stupid man. He always knew better, knew to look between the lines even when you tried your best to be deceiving. Even then, the pure rejection you showed to your newborn baby was something not even the best actress could hide. Refusing to hold her after she was born and fully shutting down on Simon, screaming at him whenever he tried to offer any sort of help and support, only getting worse if he ever tried to approach you while holding the baby.
Post-partum depression is no joke, Simon realized after doing his own research, only then realizing just how bad it can get after accidentally stumbling on article upon article of mothers getting to the point of harming their own child. You weren't like that— Simon liked to convince himself despite the growing pit of dread in his stomach, anxiety seeping out of every pore of his body when even months later you refused to hold or interact with the baby.
It all came crashing down after he came back from deployment, the nanny holding his daughter while soothing her with calm words, doing her best to console the crying infant despite the tears falling down her cheeks when she confessed to him that you're gone.
Gone without a trace, at first. Simon wasted no time using his connections to know where you were. Laswell was the most helpful, giving him all the details of the help center you were in, yet even then, Simon didn't reach out first in fear of messing up your progress, not wanting to add more stress to your situation when you were trying to get better.
Four years. For four years, Simon's life was divided in deployments and taking care of his daughter at home, never once thinking about moving on, always asking Laswell for updates— updates she was glad to give him using her own connections, wanting to give Simon some peace of mind even if it went against the rules.
“It's okay.” Simon reassured his daughter, his long sleeves wet with cola that she spilled from her little cup. His home was the complete opposite of the absolute hell he grew up in, not allowing himself to scream, hit, or take out his frustration on the little carbon copy of himself sitting on the couch.
“'M sorry, daddy.” Her sweet voice made the corners of his lips tilt up into a smile, planting a soft kiss on the top of her head, taking off his sweater and putting it away, wasting no time on grabbing a towel to clean up the now sticky mess of coke on the table.
“It's okay, love. Jus' don't tip it, 's gonna spill.” She gave him a small salute in understanding, a cheeky grin on her lips when she saw him holding in his laughter, knowing fully well she's copying him— as usual.
The doorbell ringing got Simon's full attention, giving his daughter one last look before he went to answer. His eyes widened slightly the moment he saw your shorter figure waiting for him, purposely making yourself smaller like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, a small folder held in your hands. You're both quiet for what seems like forever, the only sounds coming from your daughter in the living room, the TV displaying a kid's show Simon put on.
“I'm so so—” You don't even have the chance to finish your sentence before you're being pulled into a tight hug, Simon's burly arms wrapping around your body, every single second spent missing you, secretly hoping you'd come back one day crashes down on him the moment he feels your arms wrap around his waist, holding him as tight as possible, as if he'd disappear if you don't hold onto him for dear life.
“I got better.” You whisper into his ear, rubbing his back soothingly when he doesn't let go of you. Not yet— not when the love of his life is finally back after years. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder before his face goes back to burying in the crook of your neck, taking in the familiar scent.
It takes minutes for Simon to finally let go, hesitation clear in his actions as he looked down at you, keeping one hand on your waist in silent fear of you seeping through his fingers. The folder in your hand gets his attention, giving you a questioning look before you offer it to him, managing to give him a small smile of reassurance despite all the anxiety and fear.
“My psychotherapist wrote it. It's... just a paper that shows the progress I've made from her perspective.” You stand awkwardly as he reads the document, taking in every single word written by the woman who has been helping your for four long years. You can hear your daughter giggling at the TV show, only making the anxiety in your stomach grow more by the second.
To your surprise, Simon steps out of the way to allow you into the home he created, his safe haven. Nothing changed from the last time you were here, other than toys scattered all over the place, likely from Simon being too busy bonding with his daughter to even clean.
You can see the little girl sitting on the couch as you walk closer, her brown eyes fully focused on the screen until she hears something from behind her. She's so much bigger now, looking like a tiny carbon copy of Simon, down to the little skull-patterned pajamas she was wearing.
She turns around after seeing you from the corner of her eye, her little face lighting up into a toothy grin as she jumps from the couch, sprinting towards you as fast as her little legs allow her to.
“Mommy!” You crouch down to her height out of pure instinct, almost being knocked off balance when she crashes into you, her tiny arms wrapping around your neck. The fact that Simon never stopped talking about you to her and kept your pictures warms your heart, being as delicate as possible as you hug her back.
“Y'look so pretty.” She has Simon's accent, making you let out a small laugh before looking down at her, cupping her cheek just to examine her features better.
“Thank you, sweet girl.” You're glad for the way she cuddles up to you again, not bothering to hide the tears falling down your cheeks at the sheer love displayed by the same girl you left four years ago. Your gaze drifts up to Simon, whose eyes are glossier than usual despite the fact that he's not shedding a tear. He gives you a small nod in acknowledgement, not daring to look away from the heartwarming scene in front of him.
“Daddy talks a lot about you.” She whispers into your ear, covering her mouth as if she's telling you the biggest secret ever. You giggle at the little gossiper, your warm hand running up and down the length of her hair.
“He does?” You whisper back, giving Simon a cheeky look at the admission, one of his thin eyebrows raising when he sees your daughter nod her head vigorously, giggling as she looks at Simon.
“Well, I'm sure he talks a lot about you too.” The pure forgiveness that comes from both of them drowns the guilt, if only for a short while.
“You're such a pretty princess.” Your arms wrap around her again, rocking her softly from side to side, allowing yourself to take in their love. It doesn't take long for Simon's resolve to falter, dropping to his knees and wrapping his burly arms around his girls protectively, planting a little kiss on your forehead.
Despite everything, there's no one else he'd rather spend the rest of his life with.
Dad!Ghost Masterlist
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signedkoko · 4 months
Note
HEHEHHEE OPEN REQUESTS???
Hello koko! I was summoned by your open requests, and I just had an idea, how about headcanons/one shot for Alastor and Vox (separately) with a reader who has powers a bit like Toge Inumaki in JJK?( I saw that you were watching JJK so I assume you know how his powers works) like what do they think about it? how do they react when reader uses her powers? How they communicate with her?
THANKS FOR READING MY REQUEST DEAR KOKO! HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT
-🐚
Alastor | Vox X Reader [Romantic]
In which your speech causes action, so you can't speak unless you wish to control others. Reader is female.
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When you first came to the hotel, Alastor was not impressed
You were certainly a gorgeous sight, but it was ruined by the device in your hands that you had your nose buried in, screen lighting ruining your face
It took him quite a while when he heard strings of words emanating from the device to realize you were speaking through it, your fingers pressing on keys faster than he could follow
You introduced yourself to everyone that day, as a new hire for the hotel, and how you couldn't speak but hoped it wouldn't get in the way
He was certainly irked by the device in your hands, but it was funny to see someone so weak that they had to rely on a flimsy device made by an even flimsier overlord
Truly a shame
You learn the hard way not to get too close to him while using your device, or else it starts to act up and get damaged
Alastor still spoke to you; of course he did! Because he was amused knowing you couldn't retort
But eventually, without noticing, he would talk more and more, filling every aspect of the silence between you
You were the best listener, both since you had no choice and because you didn't give any shitty advice
The only thing that weirded him out was the weird clicking he started to hear around you
Something about it was so familiar
J-E-R-K-J-E-R-K-J-E-R
When he looked down at your hand and saw a clicker in your hand, he realized what you were doing
Of course he knew morse code by heart! He studied all sorts of things, but he wasn't sure why you'd do things that way when you had a much easier device
Unless you did it just for him?
R-K-J-E-R-K-J
" And who are we calling names, my voiceless companion? "
Y-O-U
Still, it's very touching to see you go from using your phone to putting it away when you come to him to talk
And not much changes since you can't get out too many words with your morse method
One evening, while on a walk together, Alastor was reciting to you how he'd come to work for Charlie and how she sang on the news for so many to see! When a group of assassins surrounded the two of you, angel steel weapons were on full display
Before Alastor handled them—which, let's be fair, would be no issue to him—you pulled quicker on the draw
" COMATOSE. "
You yelled it with your hands clamped over Alastors ears, and the instant the word came out, they all dropped, beyond unconcious
Alastor laughs, because wow, that was quite the display!
But he's already dragging you over them to continue talking, now teasing you for treating him like a helpless damsel
He was certainly glad that he hadn't made an enemy of you when he first saw you, because you may stand a chance against him with an ability like that
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Most sinners had some kind of ability that grew with their power, often souls under contract or training enhancing them
Vox himself had plenty of tricks under his sleeves, and he'd seen the most pathetic of abilities to those worth cowering before
But he'd never heard of something like yours
Overlords loved showing off their resources, which could include people who became very useful in battle
You were a 'friend' of Zestial, though, while most jumped at the opportunity to introduce themselves to other overlords, you only waved
Of course you piqued his interest, because when he ran his servers over you, he found little to nothing beyond pictures
After several days of stalking video feeds, he caught you and Zestial together when—oh fuck! You sign!
While he could have just waited for the next opportunity, Vox was far too invested in your story and opted to pay Zestial a visit, if it meant he could see you
From what he could tell, you were using ASL, so once he bumped into you he began signing his typical introduction
Something about his heart sparked when he saw you smile, the way those curious eyes sparkled
He was immediately embarrassed when you revealed he didn't have to sign because you could hear
But he was all healed when you signed that you were very glad to have met someone else you could talk with
Vox is used to the overstimulation of noises from news, music, footage, all of it always beaming into his head so much that the silence around you is eerie and takes him awhile to get used to
Zestial certainly has an ace; one Vox is jealous of
Since you got along so well, you and Vox schedule meet-ups so you can interact, seeing as he and Zestial are almost exact opposites
The first time he witnesses your powers is when Alastor shows up at one of your meetings, and he was certainly trying to embarrass Vox in front of you
But Vox was your friend, and you had no tolerance for Alastors threats
" Silence. "
From your lips poured a thick fog, which whisped its way over Alastor's mouth, forming a seal that prevented him from speaking
The radio demon wasn't pleased, but he wasn't about to act up a scene right now, so he turned and left
Vox immediately fanboys because, oh my FUCKING GOD, you showed him!!!
Wait, you can talk? You sound like that?
YOUR POWERS DID THAT???
He is about to waste your evening asking all kinds of things, you probably can't sign as fast as he can ask, too
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Author's Note - Conch anon gets only the BEST of the BEST!!! I did like writing these anyways though, because i adore Inumaki...thank you for requesting!
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nathaslosthershit · 3 months
Text
Teen Dad (OP81)
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(Part 1 of the Blind Item Series) (Part 1 of the Teen Dad OP AU)
Summary: Rumors are flying about a young driver with kids
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Seeing the rumor, and various other tweets commenting on the matter, first thing this morning was like getting a bucket of ice water dumped on him. Oscar immediately sat up, frightening his fiancée who was asleep next to him a moment before.
“What? What's wrong? Are you okay?” she asked, sitting up.
“Fuck this is not good.” He mumbled as he looked through more tweets. He knew he had minutes before his PR team started messaging him on how best to proceed. 
“Osc, you are really scaring me. What is going on?” His fiancée asked again. After 5 years together and two kids, she knew him well enough to know that Oscar isn’t easily woken up. While he usually wakes up early to train or help the kids, on days like today where he has the chance to sleep in, he will usually take it. But the amount of notifications he started getting were enough to get him to check his phone and once he saw the severity of the situation he was awake and alarmed. 
“A blind item about a ‘younger f1 driver with two kids he had as a teen’ just went up. No confirmation on who but it seems they have gotten it down to only a few of us. They don’t know yet but I am sure they will know soon.” 
He was grateful they hadn’t clocked in on him but Oscar was sure with a bit more time to dig people would put two and two together. He wasn’t ashamed of the fact that he was a teen dad, not anymore at least. When he was even more so an up and coming driver, he kept it hush because he was nervous being 18 with two kids would lead teams to reconsider where his priorities were, his family or his career. That wouldn’t have been crazy of them to do though, as important as racing was to Oscar, he would always pick his family first. Luckily, though, he had a great enough support system so he didn't have to choose. 
Most people in Oscar’s life knew. Any teams apart from Prema, Mclaren, and Alpine were none the wiser but why would they need to know? Not all drivers knew either, some who he had become closer to were let in on the secret, especially Logan, who had been there the entirety of his kids' lives. Annoyingly, at least in Oscar’s opinion, he has been titled ‘the cool uncle’ from day one. 
“What do we do?” his fiancée asked, snapping him out of his spiraling.
“I imagine it is up to my team to figure that one out. I’ll message them now. Get the kids ready and I’ll be done in time to help with breakfast.” He said as he got up.
After a long, pretty impromptu, call, it was decided Oscar would make a statement about it before it was revealed to be him. He wasn’t too happy about not getting to really do it on his own terms but this is the way it worked out, and hey, Oscar would be lying if he said he wasn’t already planning which race he was going to bring his kids to first.
oscarpiastri
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liked by mclaren, logansargeant, landonorris, and 518,294 others
oscarpiastri This is of course not how I wanted to do this. I had hoped to have more time before I had to let the peace of privacy go but these things happen when you are in the spotlight. So yes, I am a father of two great kids and I have been since I was 18. I am not ashamed by the fact I was a teen dad, and am certainly not hiding my kids out of anything but love. I hadn’t realized I could truly love anything or anyone more than racing but then these two came into my life and I realized I would give it all up for them. Luckily, with the support of their mother (who is my fiancée) and my family, I didn’t have to give it up. My four person family means more to me than anything and I count my lucky stars each night that I have been blessed with them. I ask that you please respect our privacy. This isn’t the end of you seeing the Piastri twins but I, being the over protective father I am, am not ready to throw two 3 year olds into the chaos of the motorsport world just yet.
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Part 2: A Much Needed Interview out now!
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