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gojonanami · 9 months

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❝ 𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃 ❞

❝ EVERYONE WANTS SATORU GOJO, SO WHY ARE YOU THE ONE STUCK GUARDING HIM ? ❞

✧ 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!

“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.

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?”

“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.

“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.”

“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.”

“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.

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.

“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).

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

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.”

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.

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.

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.”

“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.”

✧ 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,

#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo x you #gojo x reader smut #satoru gojo fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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foldingfittedsheets · 3 days

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A basic human skill that people usually lock down around the age of three or four is impulse control. To conceptualize an action and it’s consequences before taking it. Maybe considering how that action affects other people. We then refine it through most of our childhood.

When I was a teenager my hold on this ability became… tenuous. I became a volatile and dangerous creature.

It’s probably not unique to me, but I had a perfect storm in terms of mental upsets. I had just mastered enough basic social skills, so I finally had a strong group of friends when my dad suddenly needed to move for work. Ripped away from my support network, blooming with hormones, I was dragged to Arizona. I was always a child of forests and mist and suddenly everything was hot, dry, and extremely pointy and aggressive.

Additionally to being abruptly transplanted I found myself an object of affection in a way I’d never been before. Lonely and desperate to make friends the only people who wanted to spend time with me had romantic designs. I just wanted to figure out my shit but I had a baby lesbian flirting with increasing aggression in art, a soft boy making heart eyes at me in biology, a senior nerd asking if I wanted to play Halo at his house and could he hold my hand?

Reader, I snapped. I didn’t want this romantic attention but I also didn’t want to be alone. My brain coped the only way it knew how, by simply cutting out decision making. Any action was the right action to take.

It started with the boy in biology. I’d stolen his pencil out of mischief and to my overwhelming fury instead of trying to steal it back he just softened his eyes and chucked me gently under my chin, a gesture so overtly sweet and romantic that I saw red.

I stabbed him with his own pencil.

I honestly and truly have no memory of it. It happened as fast as a snake striking and I was instantly filled with terrified remorse. Unfortunately that manifested as psychotic giggling.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t- I don’t know why- I’m so sorry!” I said, while hysterically laughing. I ended up having lodged some graphite in his palm and had to tweeze it out with my nails while apologizing furiously. (It’s very important to note here that he forgave me and we’re still friends)

That was weird, I thought. Why didn’t I think before I stabbed someone?

The next event was equally catastrophic, and I had even less reason to do it. In gym with two girls I was tentatively befriending, we were warming up running laps. I started racing one of them. At breakneck speed we were sprinting around the gym.

This time, there was a blip of thought before I fucked up. I should get the other girl! I have no idea why or what the plan was but I turned on a swivel and body checked the other girl. We both fell down in immense pain. I think that’s the moment I broke my tailbone. Her knees were horribly bruised and she looked at me in bewildered pain. “Why did you do that?!”

I had no idea. I apologized and helped her up, both of us hobbling like newborn horses, bruised and hurting.

By this time there’d been enough social upheavals that I was reduced to spending time with some girls I had nothing in common with and low key disliked. Sat at a table listening to this girl talk about how she wanted to be a stripper when she grew up I thought, You’d better put the cap on before you throw it.

I then chucked my empty water bottle directly at her face. It bounced off her forehead with a bop! that would have made a sound mixer weep at its perfection.

All eyes turned to me is startlement. I stared back at her, stunned by my own action, just as confused as everyone else at the table as to why I’d done that. One of the girls to my right said, “Were you trying to hit that fly?”

“Yes!” I lied, “I’m sorry, I thought I could hit the fly!”

Everyone laughed at my antics and I joined in rather than admit I had just chucked something at her for no reason.

Things did start to improve after that. I solidified a friendship with the girl I’d raced (who I developed a massive crush on and ten years later would go on to date). My outbursts turned more whimsical rather than aggressive. Like accosting a girl leaving the cafeteria to look deeply into her eyes and say with great compassion, “It’s going to be alright.”

My new friend and I snuck into the van that delivered our cafeterias baked goods and lay giggling in the back. When I’d impulsively hopped in she’d joined me and made it a game.

After a year in Arizona I broke down crying to my mother, an act of great desperation, and we ended up moving back home. My impulse control returned to normal teenage levels and life resumed in a happier state of mind.

#ramblies #story #writing #ffs foibles #funny story #teen angst #arizona #impulse control

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joelslastofus · 5 months

Text

[SUMMARY: Joel deals with upsetting his overly sensitive eight month pregnant wife.]

Fluff

“Baby girl, open the door” you could hear the defeat in his voice but you didn’t respond. Joel knew he fucked up and he knew he had to fix it fast.

It was 3:30 in the afternoon, Joel should’ve been here by now. Here you sat in the waiting room looking at the clock every other minute, even waiting for a ring from your cell. It was your eight month sonogram appointment. Yes, Joel had been present for each and every sonogram but this was your last one and you wanted him there. Maybe it was your hormones but you could feel the heat in your cheeks as each minute went by and not even a call from Joel. This wasn’t like him yet it still set you off. When the doctor finally called you, you could feel tears forming in your eyes knowing Joel wouldn’t make it in time.

“Maybe he got caught up today, sometimes our job can get hectic, I’m sure he ain’t mean to miss it” Tommy spoke as he drove you home. He was nice enough to pick you up when you called him in tears that Joel wasn’t there. Sarah sat silently in the back, she knew how much this meant to you, she also knew her father didn’t do this selfishly.

Not saying a word you walked straight to the room closing the door shut. Tommy and Sarah giving you your space as you waited for Joel to show up.

A half hour later Joel rushed in through the front door throwing his bag aside.

“Where is she?” He looked around as Sarah pointed at the bedroom. Tommy and her both raising their brows not knowing what to expect.

You heard the front the door close, you knew Joel must’ve been home. The second the handle of your door turned you pushed yourself up as fast you could and rushed to the bathroom. Joel walked in, attempting to stop you from closing the door, reaching you a second too late, you slammed it in his face without saying a word. Locking the door shut you turned your back to it.

“Baby girl, open the door” you could hear the defeat in his voice but you didn’t respond. Joel knew he fucked up and he knew he had to fix it fast.

“I tried to get out of work as fast as I could, honey, I swear. These assholes delayed me then my phone was dead. I was in the other side of town, I came out rushing as fast I could” he explained.

Still no response.

Upsetting a pregnant woman was the last thing Joel wanted to do, upsetting his pregnant woman was something he could not ever have. You were under a lot of stress, anxious about giving birth, your sensitivity at an all time high Joel did his best to keep you calm but clearly failed at it today.

“Honey, please…ya know it ain’t good for you and the baby to get upset like this,” you rolled your eyes wiping away a tear.

“Fuck” Joel mouthed silently rubbing his forehead. He knew how important this was for you, he knew how much you wanted him there.

“Open the door, baby” Desperation in his voice when you suddenly opened up. His dark brown eyes widening with guilt noticing how puffy your eyes were, knowing you had been crying.

“Aw Jesus, baby” he whispered.

“You know today was the last sonogram-“

“I know” he whispered with sincere understanding eyes. His voice was gentle as he took a small step forward.

“I wanted you there, I..I wanted you to see him-“

“I know, baby”

“Did today even matter to you?!” You yelled as you felt yourself about to cry all over again and he could see it.

God damn those hormones.

“Of course it did” he took a step closer to you.

“How could you even ask such a thing?” You began to sob covering your eyes, his voice coming out more aggressive than he meant to.

“Shit, baby I’m sorry” he took another step closer slowly pulling you towards him. You took a deep breath wiping your tears.

“I…I don’t even know why I’m so upset” you looked down feeling a bit embarrassed. A soft chuckle escaping his lips as he held you, gently he kissed your forehead.

“That baby boy of ours is doing a number on you, honey” Joel whispered as a million things ran through your head.

“What if…what if you don’t make it on time to his birth? I can’t do this alone, Joel-“ you began to panic.

“What if-“

“Look at me” he gently tilted your face up at him.

“Ain’t no one or anything stopping me from seeing my son be born, ya hear me?”

You nodded in silence as you looked away.

“It was such a frustrating day, not to mention that damn man at the pharmacy got my vitamins wrong again” you walked around him towards the bedroom.

“Not again, ya need me to go over there and say somethin’ to him?” You could hear the playfulness in his voice.

“Joel” you turned to him rolling your eyes placing your hands on your lower back for support. He attempted to hold back a smile, the sight of you eight months pregnant with an attitude was something else.

“Are you laughing at me?” You asked as he quickly turned serious and shook his head.

“No mam” he took a step towards you as you tilted your head looking up at him.

Joel was forever teasing you.

“Ya know, after how upset you had me today, I highly suggest-“ Joel reached in his jacket unexpectedly pulling out your favorite pack of chocolate cookies you hadn’t found anywhere near by in weeks. You gasped with excitement making a big grin appear on his face.

“Where did you find them?!” You grabbed the pack out of his hand excitedly ripping the wrapper apart. Joel watched as you eagerly took a bite, closing your eyes, sighing with pleasure. It had been weeks that you were craving them, Joel had gone around every neighborhood searching for them, it was the only good thing that came out of working on the other side of town.

“Oh…Joel you’re the best” you continued to devour the cookies making him laugh.

“Oh I’m off the hook now huh?”

“Mmmmhm” you rolled your eyes back enjoying the taste.

“Anything for you mama” he whispered leaning in with a kiss as you sat back on the bed enjoying your snack.

#pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller fan fic

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caesium-55 · 7 months

Text

—seven days. [ iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: hi hello welcome to part three. i flunked the quiz. lemme know what you think. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED. this chapter kinda sux. can't believe i went through a breakup just last week and i still cant write decent post-breakup scenes.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab hope i didn't forget anyone.

masterlist.

you: *sent a link*

him: ?

him: what's this

you: benefits of crying

you: read it it's enlightening

him: some people do not cry over a breakup you know and that is totally okay

you: why crying helps.

you: 1. tears release toxins, stress hormones to be specific. it is good to let all the bad energy out.

you: 2. it aids sleep. no need for further explanation.

you: 3. crying releases oxytocin and endorphins. i know you don't know what an oxytocin or an endorphin is but they're happy chemicals.

you: 4. crying helps you receive the support you need from the people around you. EMOTIONAL VULNERABILITY is okay, max. stop treating it like an STD.

him: it feels like an std

you: pussy

you: emotional vulnerability is a thing and it's normal so stop trying to be a big strong man when you're barely holding it together.

you: you may look fine now but i know you

him: please stop

you: no

you: 5. crying has a self soothing effect. very nice actually. it activates the rest and digest system.

him: what even is that

you: the parasympathetic nervous system

him: ??

you: this is why you shouldn't have dropped out of high school

you: education is important yknow

you: youre already lacking in three forms of intelligence, academic, emotional n social intelligence

him: fuck you im smart

you: fuck you 2 and yeah you're smart but only in geography

you: you probably can't do your taxes

him: im dutch so the company's account department do it for me by default

him: the american system is just weird

you: cant argue w/ u there

you: also, 6. crying helps restore emotional balance

you: see? you need that

you: yknow now that i think abt it you should consider seeking therapy

him: what makes you think i’m not in therapy right now

you: well have you considered getting MORE therapy?

You stand in front of the body mirror, holding the Red Bull polo shirt against your body to see how it looks on you for one last time. On your right sleeve, the word MANAGER is written in bold, white text. Because that was what you were. Just a manager.

In another universe this is not the shirt that you’d be wearing. The MANAGER would have been ENGINEER. In another another universe where your family has been well-off enough to continuously send you to karting school and you would have been the one driving the fucking car by now.

You know, if Max has even tried talking to Horner and suggested that you should be moved into the engineering team, then you wouldn't be stuck wearing this god-awful polo that burned your skin every time you wore it for work. Everybody reduced you as Max’s American manager and because you are American, most of them kind of just assumed that you're dumb, you know?

Does the world even know how smart you are? That you graduated top of your class, got the best thesis award, and that you had finished your masters just this year? Did they even know that a Japanese car company wanted you on their research team? That a NASCAR team wanted you on board as one of their engineers? Does Max even know?

Fuck no. He only knows that you're the best at ironing clothes and organizing his Google calendar and memorizing his entire coffee order by heart. He knew you're good at extinguishing kitchen fires and kicking ass in YSL Opyum heels. You doubt he knows that you can do Calculus in your sleep.

You can take it if the world puts you down for your appearance. But if the world puts you down because of your intellect? That's a different story. You'll take any insult to the face but not to your intelligence.

You have four days left in Monaco so you have begun packing already. You're right, everything did fit into three suitcases. Also, you haven't told Max yet. For some reason, you’re too anxious. Which is shocking to say the least because you never ever gets anxious when it came to Max Verstappen. You wouldn't have lasted this long working alongside Max if you were a pussy.

Max Max Max Super Max Max—

“[Name] here. Need anythin’, champ?”

Hearing a sob on the other end of the line immediately activates your fight or flight response. Your eyes widen and you toss the Red Bull shirt aside. Your legs leads you to the nearly empty shoe rack stationed beside the front door, grabbing the pair of shoes at the very top of the tiny shelf and throwing them on.

“I’m comin’ there. Hang on, Max. You wait for me, okay?”

He doesn't answer, just continuing to sob and the sound absolutely breaks your heart.

You run to his penthouse at a speed that will even put the RB19 to shame. Not even bothering to knock, you barge in and yell his name in the empty halls of his penthouse. You search in the kitchen. He's not there. The living room. Not there either. The room where his simulations are. Not there. You run to his bedroom upstairs.

The door is locked. Dammit. Panic overflooded your system.

“Max, sweetheart, you there?”

No answer, but you can hear a faint sound behind the door if you press your ear against the wood. Firefighter training covered how to open a fucking door when it was locked so this once again becomes a situation where you're grateful that you did that tiring and borderline suicidal volunteer work.

Max keeps a fire extinguisher inside his penthouse as per your advice. There is one stationed in almost every room inside his house. You knew there is one inside his room and another one just at the end of the hallway. You make a quick run for it and once you have the extinguisher in your hands, you run back to his door.

“Step away from the door!” you instructed while your mind mentally calculates your payment plan as you hit the door knob with so much force, the walls tremble at your strength. You're functioning on pure adrenaline. Your instincts only yell one thing and that is: go to Max. No one and nothing in this world will keep you from him. It isn't long until his bedroom door broke down. With one last final kick, it crumbles down from its hinges and you forcefully pry it open and sprint inside.

Max tucks himself in the tiny space in the corner of his huge bedroom, his knees shoved up to his chest. A 181-cm tall man trying to make himself as small as possible.

This is it. This is the bottled-up emotions he's been storing since Abu Dhabi. You cannot say you have not anticipated this. Max is bound to explode sooner or later.

Panic attacks have made a home in Max’s body since he was a child. That's what one gets when they’re parented by someone like Jos Verstappen. He killed Max’s soul and made the boy a machine and for what? To shape a child into a man, a racer that he wanted to be but failed to become at the cost of Max's mental health and childhood.

When Max looks up with that heartbreaking look on his face, you almost crumble. Almost, because you cannot crumble. Not when Max needs you.

Sometimes, you forget what it took for Max to become the champion that he is today. A childhood sacrificed for his dominance on the tracks. A whole lot of hatred from the people to become a WDC. And now, a love lost for his third consecutive championship.

“You came,” his voice cracks towards the end.

Your eyes soften, “You called, Max. Course I’ll come.”

You barely brace yourself for the impact that is Max’s body wrapping around yours in a tight hug. The man have literally launch himself from the floor to you at sixth gear speed. You stumble backwards slightly, holding his bed for support so the both of you won't fall down.

“Max—”

“No,” he whispers and his grip on your tightens as if he's afraid that you’ll slip away if he even tried to give your lungs space to breathe. “Don't speak. Stay.”

What Max wanted, what Max would get. So you shut your mouth, shuffle slightly so he'll be in a more comfortable position and allow him take whatever he wants from you. This will be the last chance he’ll ever do it anyway because in four days time, you’re flying to Texas.

You stay for what is probably hours in that position. Crumbled together on the floor, leaning against the side of Max’s king-sized bed. Your shirt is completely damp from his tears but you cannot even bring yourself to care about it.

“Your shoes…” It's the first time Max has spoken since the start of his meltdown.

“Hm?” you turn your head and your nose nuzzles against his hair, making you scrunch it up a little. His hair is tickling your nostrils. If you lean a little forward, your lips will meet the skin of his temple.

“They’re mismatched.”

Brows furrowed, your eyes move to your feet and see that Max is right. Your shoes are indeed mismatched. On your left is one of your Adidas slides and the other is your slip-on Skechers. You ran from one building to another in mismatched shoes. Fucking embarassing.

“Ignore them.”

Silence.

“You good now?”

“No.”

“Okay,” you say. “If you want to talk, I’ll listen.”

You hear Max let out a shaky breath, “Just stay for a while. Don't leave me alone.”

“Okay.”

Eventually, you manage to talk Max out of the hug. You're beginning to feel claustrophobic but you do not want to say it out right so you try to negotiate instead. That's how you and Max found yourselves inside his kitchen again. You're trying to replicate your Abuela's cheesecake, which she was known for back in Austin, and Max is…well, he's Max and he’s trying to be helpful in any way he can. If it's some other day, you'd have shoved him out of the way because you prefer working alone in the kitchen. Having eyes on you gives you anxiety. But given today’s circumstances, you do not have the heart to make Max leave so you task him with doing the little stuff like mixing things and throwing shit to the trash can nearby. And he does so splendidly.

“Thank you, by the way.”

“For what, baby?” You internally wince at your own slip of the tongue. Damn that habit of yours of calling people with affectionate call signs. Thankfully, Max seems to have not noticed it.

“For coming here.”

You shrug.

“I only did what you did for me in 2021.”

Again, your breakup with Leo was bad bad. You spent a month crying for a love lost and Max was there for you. For the most part, at least. You want him to focus on winning and winning alone that you pushed him away a lot of times but you appreciated how he was more obedient to your commands, that he held his tongue so he wouldn't piss you off even though he was not liking your words, and that he was considerate of you.

“I hope you won't go into fights though,” you chuckle. “Like I did after my breakup.”

He smiles, shaking his head lightly and you know he's recalling the memory. 2021 is a hilarious year for you, the Red Bull manager. You went viral after getting into a cat fight with a girl and a whole fist fight with her boyfriend.

You and Leo called it quits a week before Monaco and even though it had been four races since then, your heart was still in a quite fragile state at that specific race weekend. One minor inconvenience was enough to ignite a wild blaze of fire within you and nobody could extinguish the flames.

After Silverstone FP1, you were leading Max to the cool down room to brief him with Horner’s relayed instructions and someone had thrown a glass bottle towards the both of you while walking. Originally, Max was the main target of the bottle but you happened to have moved towards the line of trajectory and the bottle landed on your temple, hard enough that you stumbled upon impact.

You barely heard Max’s shocked gasp and shout of panic over the sound of glass shattering on your foot because the only thing you could register was the terrifying feeling of a thick liquid trickling down the side of your face and you didn't even need to see it to know it was blood.

The only thing you saw was red and it was on fucking sight.

Fucking Hamilton fan. Fucking Hamilton. He’s in Max’s way. He’s in your way. He’s the wall that was dividing you from your dream position in the engineering team.

You shoved the iPad you were holding to Max’s hands and marched down to the woman wearing the Merc #44 merch, swiftly jumping over the barricade and grabbing her by the collar of her pristine white Versace top.

The events that followed were too fast. You grabbed her collar. She pulled your hair. You also pulled her hair. Someone pulled her away from you. You tried to grab her, clawing her bare arms with your manicured nails. She screamed. You screamed back. You pulled out some curse words in Spanish as well because cursing her in one language alone is not enough. Her boyfriend appeared. A quick punch to your cheek. You fell to the ground.

The world stood still. There was a sting on your palm because your skin got torn from the hard surface of the concrete ground. You let a bloodcurdling war cry and your Dad would definitely be disappointed at you for using the boxing techniques he taught you for self defense purposes only to fight a guy two times your size.

Everything was a bigger blur from there. But you did remember the sensation of Max’s strong arms around you, stopping you from lunging forward again. He was saying sweet words to your ear to calm you down but your brain failed to intercept them so you could hear the words, could hear his voice, but not understand any of it. You remember Christian Horner's disappointed face that haunted you even two years later. You remembered feeling so terrified as you sat outside Christian Horner’s office waiting for the final verdict while he and Max and a few of the Red Bull higher-ups argued about your future with the team. You remembered hearing Max’s loud snarl on the other side of the mahogany door: “Did you see her face?! There was blood everywhere! On her nose, on her mouth, on the fucking side of her head!” You remembered the girl taking the case to court. You remembered fearing that you’d be sent to jail. You remembered that she lost the case because it was ruled as self defense and your injuries were grave. You remembered discovering that it was Max who used all his power and got the best lawyer to fight your case. You remembered the atmosphere in the Red Bull garage shifting when you entered it a few weeks later and everyone stared the bandages and bruises. Everyone thought one thing: of course, it would also take a monster to manage a monster like Max Verstappen. You remembered Lewis Hamilton, seven-time world champion, apologizing personally for the fight caused by his own fan. He didn't need to but he was so sincere with it that you cried when he handed you the apology flowers. God, how could you even hate this man? Your anger towards him was misplaced.

You’d been living with the guilt ever since, that you were horrifyingly violent for a day, that you were capable of killing for a day. And it could happen again. One day. God, you hoped you wouldn't have to see that day. You knew all your coworkers have been careful with angering you ever since. They're terrified of you even. Max should be, too. But then again, why would he when he already saw the horrors done by his father’s hands ever since he was a child? He was used to it.

“I won't,” he says, smiling at you. “I wouldn't want to add anymore problems for you to clean up.”

But you will not be the one cleaning it up because you resigned. You didn’t tell that to him though. Not right now. He just had a meltdown over Kelly leaving him and the news of his manager leaving him too will destroy him.

The cheesecake is a little burnt when you take it out of the oven but it actually adds more flavor to it so yeah, that's a win.

“We should drink,” you suggest.

“It’s mid-afternoon.”

“We drank at mid-afternoon yesterday,” you give him a blank stare. “With Alex and Charles, remember?”

He doesn't say anything as you make your way to his fridge and pull out two bottles of beer. Max has champagne stored somewhere but you have enough of those expensive champagnes. You need beer. Beer is good. Beer is nice. You're a beer type of person and it is time Max becomes one, too.

“I’m no scientist,” you begin, biting off the beer’s bottle cap. “But according to chemistry, alcohol is solution.”

Well, technically, edible alcohol or ethanol is not a mixture. Rather, it's a pure substance that happens to be a liquid at room temperature and typical atmospheric pressure. Pure ethanol is not a solution. Hard spirits though? That's a solution.

Beer is not a hard spirit. It's more of a fermented drink. But Max doesn't know that, though, so you don't bother explaining the science behind it.

Somewhere down the road, the two of you move to his living room. You use the Youtube app in his TV to search karaoke video and have the bestest time of your lives. You're screaming along some Daddy Yankee and El Alfa songs and Max doesn't know how to speak Spanish so he’s just vibing to it.

At 5 PM, you pull out Max’s expensive vodka bottle. Now this is the real shit. The ten bottles of beer? Those are just pregame. Max is already drunk with just those because he’s a pussy but you’re no pussy, so the only right answer is vodka! Viva la vodka or whatever.

Your throat gets tired of singing and Max gets tired from dancing, too, so you both decide to just go entertain yourselves in other ways. First, you introduced Max to beer-pong. He loses, of course. He sucks at everything not racing. Then, the two of you move onto chess. Max gives up mid-game. He cannot understand the rules. Then, lastly, you move to the billiard table Max owned. He only used it when the other guys are over and you do not even know why he bought it when he sucked at playing billiards.

“You know what Kelly said the morning before the race?” Max suddenly says and you look up at him, brow raising slightly. He’s drunk; his skin is flushed and he is all giggly and smile-y as he sits on the billiard table’s side rail and using the billiard stick as some sort of support stand to keep him from falling. You hope he won't accidentally poke himself. You're no better, too. Ten beer bottles and a few glasses of vodka. But you’re not as drunk as Max, and you still have a straight vision and you can still sink the colored balls into the pockets of the billiard table.

“Hm?”

“That it was unfair for her.”

You raise a questioning brow, “Why?”

“I bought shoes and they don't fit her.”

You blink. He laughs at himself as if he has uttered the funniest joke in the world.

“Three years of relationship gone because of a single pair of shoes,” he continues. “She wanted those shoes, too.”

Kelly….what the fuck?

“But that's okay. She….She made me open my eyes, you know? She made me realize what I truly love.”

“Racing.” It's not even a question. It's the truth.

Max stares at you, long and hard, and you look away first because you fear that if you allow yourself to stare too long, you’ll drown in those beautiful blues. This is enough heartache for the day. No need to add more.

“Hey [Name],” he begins. “If I asked you to kiss me, would you do it?”

#manager!reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #formula one #fanfic #angst #mv1 #mv33 x reader #mv33

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ak319 · 12 days

Text

Lovesick bubbly hubby x fem reader

ミ☆Headcanon#3𓏲

(Warnings: Contains mpreg (bxg pairing, YES, boy x fem reader), and matriarchal themes/gender role reverse so don't interact if you are not comfortable!! ‎♡‧₊˚)

♥︎ Headcanon #2

🍭"Narin, just one more paragraph, c'mon. Then we can go get some ice cream."

"You know, you're the cruellest wife anyone could have. Making me do assignments in this condition."

"What condition? You're fine, Narin. You're not even the one typing your essay. Just one more paragraph, c'mon, you can do it." He acts as if he's in his last months, when he’s only three weeks in. After another exaggerated sigh, he finally gave in, and you closed the laptop with relief.

"It's your last semester. Just get it done, and then your lifelong dream of staying home will come true."

"Are you taking me out for that ice cream or not?" You chuckled, getting up and offering him a hand. "Let's go."

Narin finally got what he wanted after so long, but deep down, he knew it wouldn’t be enough to pull him out of university. Still, the thought of becoming a father—of your child—filled him with uncontrollable excitement. He just prayed that your family wouldn’t cast an evil eye on the baby. Hmph! Lost in thought, he unconsciously placed his hands over his stomach as you drove, unaware of the silent storm brewing within him.

Meanwhile, your mind was all over the place. First, an unexpected husband, and now a child on the way?! You couldn't stop worrying about the future. You never imagined yourself as a mother, especially not with a husband like Narin, who could barely take care of himself. Maybe he would mature once the baby was born... or would you just have two kids to look after instead? How did this even happen? Weren’t you both careful? Wasn’t he taking pills, too? Well, it didn’t matter now. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him, hands protectively resting on his stomach, looking content and as happy as ever. You sighed and decided to put on some music to drown out the spiralling thoughts. Soon enough, you both reached the ice cream shop.

Months passed, and Narin’s university days came to an end. It had been three months into his pregnancy when one day, you came home to find him curled up on the sofa with Prince. There was no usual excitement, no running up to greet you like he always did.

🍭"Narin? You okay? Is something wrong?" By now, the panic in your voice was impossible to hide. You gently made him sit up, cupping his face, and your heart sank as you saw his puffy, red eyes. He was still sniffling, avoiding your gaze, his usual brightness nowhere to be found.

"Narin? You're making me worried. Tell me, what's wrong, baby?"

"I-just-what if you... leave me?! Does your family think I'm not competent enough to bear your child?! Because I feel like it!" His voice cracked with emotion, and you could hear the frustration in every word. Where was all this anger coming from?

"What are you talking about? Who said that?! And why on earth would I leave you?" You could feel your own heart racing. Narin might be childish and immature at times, but he was still your husband, and you cared for him deeply even more so now. Why couldn’t he see that?

"I would never abandon you. Never, you or our child."

"What if it’s a boy? Like me?!" His voice trembled with insecurity, his eyes wide with fear. It was clear the pregnancy hormones were heightening all his worries. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself to stay calm. He needed your reassurance more than ever now.

"Then we’ll love him just the same, Narin. Just like I love you." He finally looked into your eyes.

"Listen, Narin baby. You’re very, very important to me. I love you and our future child, no matter if they’re a boy or a girl. I just want you both to be healthy, and my family wants the same. No one is doubting you, and if they are--just tell me their name. I’ll have a talk with them myself. Now, tell me, did someone say anything to you?"

He shook his head sincerely.

"Then?" you asked gently, stroking his hair.

"I... just had these thoughts..." he whispered, voice trembling slightly. He grasped your collar tightly, his body now almost in your lap. "You won’t leave, right?"

"Never." You held him closer, your voice firm with reassurance, and yet he needed more. He needed to drown in that reassurance, to feel it in every part of his being. You held him tighter, but it still didn’t feel close enough. "And don’t let these thoughts ruin your mood or stress you out. You hear me? Promise me, you won’t."

He nodded, but this time he clung to you like a lifeline, his fingers tightening in your shirt. "Promise," he whispered, his heart racing. He knew that you were not going to leave him but he just wanted to make sure and...was bored. Damn, he can be a really good actor if he wants to but in all seriousness, it's important to remind you that he is now your everything, your new family. In his head, there was no room for doubt. You belonged to him, and no one else could ever come between you two.... and now three of you. Not now, not ever.

In his eyes, the most delightful thing is making you run for whatever he craves, even if it’s the middle of the night or a drive to another town just to get a snack he tried once. He revels in the fact that you’ll do anything for him, and he takes immense pride in bragging about how caring and romantic his wife is. He squeals with childlike excitement when you’re out fulfilling his whims, loving how dreamy and devoted you are.

But lately, there’s a shadow of sadness in his eyes as he watches you work harder than ever. You’ve started a new venture with your friend, and it’s consuming more of your time and energy.

🍭"You should take a break now," he said, plopping down next to you on the couch and peering over your shoulder at your laptop. His tone was light, but there was an edge of concern beneath his playful words. "I don’t want to be a widower in this condition." You jerked your head towards him in shock at his bluntness. It was classic Narin--his naive habit of saying whatever came to mind without fully thinking it through. You just sighed, shaking your head at his antics.

"I’m not dying here, you don’t have to worry. I’ll be done in a few minutes."

"Why are you even doing this?! Isn’t your salary enough-"

"No, it’s not enough. Certainly not for the future when the kid is going to grow up and go to school and stuff." Narin grumbled, leaning his head against your chest with a sigh. He was like a needy kitten, wanting your comfort and attention, and the warmth of your chest made him feel a little safer. 'As disciplined and farsighted as ever. So fucking hot.' Well, he is kind of glad too, now that you are working so much, you rarely have time to visit your own family. Hehe. That's right wifey, work for me and your child now, our child.

"Yeah, you’re right. And also, it’s not like we’re going to have only one, right? I was a single child, so I want more than one kid. Got it?" Your hands paused momentarily over the keyboard.

"Um--yeah, but focus on this one for now..." Narin’s smile widened as he traced his finger lightly across your chest. "Oki! Our kids are going to be the prettiest and the smartest!"

You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, even as worries about the future tugged at the edges of your thoughts. "Of course," you replied softly, placing a gentle kiss on his crown before returning to your work. In that moment, the presence of each other made the stress feel a little more bearable.

@mel-vaz 🍭

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sophvilla · 5 months

Text

Little Menace ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 🧸^᪲᪲᪲

⋅˚₊‧ OT5 X Reader Series ‧₊˚ ⋅

Pairing: Husband! Beomgyu X PregnantWife Fem!reader Warning: General Fluff, Tooth-roting fluff, Written au, Pregnancy, Husband x Wife Genre: When Their Baby kicks for the First time

CHOI BEOMGYU | 범규

Beomgyu gets a little busy at times, but he does do his best to make time for you, especially when your pregnant with his first born.

Whenever He’s at home he brings in your weird cravings and stuffs you need even though he calls out your weird combination of cucumber and mayo, He still is there for you whenever you have a hormonal breakdown you keep having throughout the whole pregnancy.

While you blame on your husband that it’s his fault that your body is changing and getting fat, to which he clearly he refers,

“ Yes baby it's my fault that your body is transforming into a healthy safe place for our little buddy and turning you into a goddess but don’t you dare call yourself fat!! You look absolutely breathtaking as everyday passby and look I also have a baby belly”

In addition to that, He loves hanging out with you together with his group of friends as it kind of puts him at ease, knowing that you're accompanied by those people you’re comfortable to be with.

Today, He was doing some of his usual works in the studio while working on some guitar strings? Chords ? Anyways.

While you sat at lounge chatting and laughing with the other guys right outside of studio when suddenly you felt a kick at your lower abdomen causing you to gasp and telling huening kai to call Beomgyu right now.

No fiber of his being expected his youngest friend to burst into the room, grin filling his face, as he urgently call him, "Beomgyu hurry !! you have to see what just happened!"

With no hesitation, he abandons the followers and quickly follows the boy. he asks him, voice laced with concern, "is y/n okay? did something happen?"

His ‘ stupid friend ’ just giggle as they finally near your room. Kai speak up, "she is okay! but something important really did happen!"

Somehow, it sends Beomgyu more into panic, because just what happened and why is it so important to the point they had to call him?

As soon as , they are finally there, and Beomgyu wastes no time in sitting by your side, hands and eyes inspecting your body for an injury.

You giggle, "calm down, Gyu," you take his hand and guide it to your stomach, "can you feel it?"

"feel it? what do you mean-" he pauses upon the little kick against his palm. he smiles, actually grins, quietly before looking you in the eyes.

You nod with a smile of your own, while he leans down to kiss your stomach then your hand.

He rests his head against your stomach, "how are you, little buddy?"

You husband chuckles softly, "better not cause trouble for your pretty mom," his eyes lock with yours, "I hate to see her in pain or discomfort."

You roll your eyes before patting your husband's head, "you're quite the charmer, aren't you?"

"I would rather only charm you, y'know," he chuckles.

The both of you completely interrupted from your talk from the noise of gagging coming from the oldest friend of Beomgyu, Yeonjun, as He dramatically continue to gag at both of you as well as the pair of guys standing at the door way shook Their head at the oldest acting this way,

Only for Kai to pull out a camera and starts snapping a bunch of photos of the moment in front you saying he'd show this to your baby when he grows up.

Beomgyu snickers a little before teasing, “ Yeonjun Hyung, I’m starting to worry about your age these days, like seriously by the time I officially become a Dad you’d reach the age of a Grandpa, right ?"

As the oldest quirks an eyebrow at Gyu and turns towards you before saying

“ Y/n I Pray to God these days that the your child wouldn’t inherit his father traits, like I swear I can’t handle one Beomgyu already, I’m sure second one would be the death of me .”

With a soft sigh and a giggle, Beomgyu goes back to admiring you, hand rubbing circles on your stomach.

“ He’ll be just like his parents, The second Handsomest Little guy in the World, ofcourse after me !!” Beomgyu replies before receiving a smack from you and his friends.

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twst-drabbles · 7 days

Text

Jamil 17

Summary: You and Jamil lay in his bed in his dorm room. While you’re very tired, you’re visibly not bothered by the social implications of being in the bed of another. Jamil, on the other hand, is a little too aware.

(I saw the birthday card and went “eh, why not?” and wrote this.)

Was this something common in your world? Where, out of nowhere, people will just casually ask their friends if they can sleep with them in their bed? Because that’s what you did to Jamil. You approached him, luckily out of earshot from anyone important, and asked that very question with zero shame.

“Hey Jamil? Mind if I sleep with you in your bed tonight?”

Jamil will admit, it took him a good five seconds for him to register the words. And, he will also admit that he banged his knee against the table he was cleaning. Hit it so hard actually that he curled up into a ball, and practically retreated into his hoodie because why would you ask that?! In broad daylight?!

But you know what’s the worst part about all this? Jamil actually got excited. Giddy even! When the hot flush flooding through his body finally settled, all that was left was this glowing feeling.

At the time, he thought that his charms have finally got to you. That all his efforts to be in your good graces have begun to bear fruit.

And so he said, “You know what? Yes, let’s do that. Setting aside the way you asked that, I think I can find it in my heart to forgive that.”

Past him’s an idiot. For all those times he thought himself above the hormonal college students, turns out Jamil was no better. He supposed it was only a matter of time before he was humbled.

And so here Jamil lays on his side of the bed, dressed in his best pajamas, surrounded by the best sheets and pillows he uses for special occasions, and you laying on your stomach, reading the next chapter for one of your classes.

You came in with a tired wave, bag at hand, and flopped over in his bed. And you’ve been in that pose since.

“So, this was what you meant.” Jamil said. Now that his judgment is clear again after an hour of doing nothing, he really should’ve known you didn’t mean anything special by what you asked. Shame on him for expecting an extra meaning to them.

“Hmm? Oh, was the way I asked weird?” You glanced towards him. Jamil recognizes that exhausted look weighing in your eyes. Perhaps, through the rose-tinted glasses, Jamil didn’t notice. Once again, shame on him. Jamil should suffocate himself with these pillows. “Sorry about that. I just really want one good night of sleep. Just one.”

The urge to hit himself with the pillows lessened. Jamil moved onto his stomach, and copied your position, propping his chin on the pile. “Is there something wrong with your bed?”

You put your phone down. “Weather’s getting hotter and I still don’t have a working air con. It gets so humid at night that I sweat through the night. Can barely get more than three hours of sleep at a time.”

…of course the headmage would neglect to give you something as simple as a stable heating and cooling. Leave it to him to ignore your problems while he goes off doing whatever else. Probably binge watching an old drama that’s not even any good.

“I can’t imagine it’s been easy to deal with. Though, I have to ask, why my bed? You have others that you’re closer to, don’t you?”

Others such as Ace and Deuce, but Jamil didn’t want to say their names. It’s childish but he doesn’t want to see if your eyes light up at their mere mention.

You stretched your spine and settled down. “Yeah I know other people, but–how do I say this–they’ll make it weird.”

Weird? Like how Jamil preparing everything from the lights, to the blankets and even stuffing his drawer with extra wipes just in case wasn’t weird? What?

“Wait, what you mean by weird?” Now Jamil’s worried. Did something happen for you to say that? Did someone do something to you?

You waved off his concern. “Well, see, originally I was just going to ask Rook since he doesn’t mind sharing spaces with anyone, but he’s also very into cuddling and I’m not in the mood for that.”

“That’s true, he’s very open about that kind of thin–wait you cuddled him before?” Since when?

“Cuddled him plenty of times. Rook gives the best hugs without trying to flirt with me. Anyways, Rook wasn’t an option, and neither are Ace and Deuce since there’s no room to spare. There was Leona but after that whole ordeal with Azul, I really don’t want to go back there. And as for asking Azul himself… I feel like he’d charge me for that. So, here I am.”

Oh. Well, when putting it like that, it does make sense doesn’t it? So long as you don’t figure out exactly what went through his head when you asked. He’ll just keep quiet about that.

Jamil sighed into his pillow. “While I want to ask why you didn’t ask Kalim, but I know him too well. A peaceful rest isn’t something he can give, not with the way he sleeps.”

You patted his shoulder and it took everything in Jamil to not jump out of his skin. “You get it. So, yeah, thanks Jamil, for not saying no. Honestly, I was ready to find an empty classroom and just sleeping in there.”

Jamil narrowed his eyes. “Don’t do that. You’ll get in trouble. Just sleep here for the time being. When I have time, I’ll see about pestering Crowley into getting everything in order.”

“You do too much for me, Jamil. Really.”

While things didn’t play out the way he wanted to, the warmth flooding in his chest has not once went away. If anything, from the sight of your smile, it threatened to overflow.

This is nice, that you trust him like this.

“…alright, this is still bothering me. How did you and Rook even start cuddling in the first place?”

And can he add himself onto that list of people you cuddle with?

“Hahaha, yeah that is strange, right? Alright, may as well tell you.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #twst-drabbles exclusive #drabble #scarabia #jamil #jamil viper #reader insert

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yuikomorii · 3 months

Note

I got a question but I need an objective answer please. So I saw a lot of people complain about Yui being written in a very bad way in Ayato’s routes starting with More Blood and was curious if you think that she became a bad girlfriend as the story progressed?

// I will analyze Yui’s versions from Ayato’s routes and provide an answer at the end of this post.

More Blood:

Even from the first two chapters we are aware of the fact that Yui got a big crush on Ayato merely because of his looks and pleasure he gave her. At first sight, these reasons seem very superficial, but at the same time you can’t blame her completely for that. Yui went to a normal school and used to read magazines for teens, therefore it’s obvious she would have hormones and fall in love with someone who got features portrayed as the beauty standard.

It's understandable why some found her annoying, as she repeatedly cried for Ayato's love without making any real effort to earn it. Apart from giving him her blood, she didn't try to understand what he was going through, even when she noticed changes in him that made him crave so much blood.

Nevertheless, I believe that she did redeem herself in the last chapters, where she admitted being selfish and only thinking about her own desires, instead of focusing on Ayato’s struggles too. I know she paralyzed him out of jealousy and cheated on him in the bad endings, but in the good one, she’s actually a really loyal person. Yui waited years for Ayato to wake up from the coma and Ayato searched for Yui for years in his dream until he finally woke up. This ending confirmed the genuineness of their love.

In the After Story, Ayato planned to attend university for Yui's sake, aiming to get a job and buy a house. Yui helped Ayato with his studies and praised his skills. Initially, she fell for his looks, but in the After Story, she mentioned falling in love with him again because of his caring, determined, and hardworking personality.

Vandead Carnival & Lunatic Parade:

I really liked Yui in both of Ayato's routes and honestly, I can't find anything to criticize about her behavior.

It's not that Yui was a bad partner; it's just that Ayato was portrayed as too good, such as when he ran through flames for her or protected her from a bomb explosion. But that's likely because these are fan service games, where the love interests are designed to be your knights in shining armor. xD

Dark Fate:

I absolutely loved Yui’s portrayal in that route. It was the sweetest version of Yui I’ve ever seen, and I really enjoyed seeing her so happy and soft. Regarding her relationship with Ayato, he was truly the apple of her eye, lol.

The only problematic thing she did was pushing Ayato to face his abuser, Cordelia, even though he didn’t want to. I honestly don’t care if a character does something to another character, as long as it doesn’t affect them and the story, so since Ayato didn’t get mad at her for that, I didn’t mind it much either. However, from an objective point of view, I agree that doing such a thing is quite bad. Being in the presence of someone who ruined your life can trigger intense memories and forcing a confrontation removes the victim's agency in deciding how to cope with their trauma. Ayato might not have been mad at Yui for planning that, but if it had been Laito, I’m sure he would have shown why Yui was in the wrong.

Other than that, she was a kind and supportive girlfriend throughout the whole route, clearly having no ill intent, and I appreciate that she had an actual important role in the route.

Lost Eden:

Ok, I really can’t defend her anymore there. She literally had no redeeming qualities, no matter how many times she got the chance to fix herself. I discussed my thoughts about LE Yui in this post, but I’ll sum it up.

She tried to convince Ayato that despite Cordelia abusing him, she actually did it because she “cared about his future”, and then acted surprised when Ayato started feeling uncomfortable because of her words.

Yui knew the reasons behind Ayato’s behavior, yet when his brothers started mocking him, she didn’t even try to defend him. Everyone ganged up on Ayato, and he was on the verge of a panic attack, yet she remained silent.

Another terrible scene was in one of the last chapters, when Ruki admitted to turning the Vibora Clan and Church organization against Ayato out of envy, aiming to kill him. Instead of criticizing Ruki’s actions, Yui justified them and spoke ill of Ayato behind his back. I wouldn’t like to date someone who claims to love me but keeps hurting me without learning anything… It felt as if Ayato only continued being together with her because he had no one else. No wonder he didn’t marry her there.

Chaos Lineage:

I found Yui quite boring in CL in general, but she started off as determined and sweet in his route, so I liked that.

For most of the route, Yui’s entire personality seemed to revolve around Ayato, and she didn’t do much. There were many cheesy moments between them that made me cringe. Still, I’m sure a certain audience enjoyed those.

My only complaint is that when his brothers started treating Ayato unfairly, despite the fact that he came up with the idea of breaking the glass floor of the church, Yui did nothing to defend him, again.

However, I do appreciate that she gave him that adorable monologue. I just wish she had done it in front of others instead of only acting when Ayato was already insecure and sad.

Now… let’s see what kind of girlfriend Yui was in each route by judging her progress:

MB: Good

VC: Good

DF: Very good

LP: Good

LE: Very bad

CL: Decent

#diabolik lovers #yui komori #dialovers #komori yui #admin

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anxious-lee · 4 months

Text

Nothing To Prove || Gravity Falls Tickle Fic ||

A/N: there's a lot of buildup at the start but THIS IS A TICKLE FIC I SWEAR! more than anything though, I'm writing this for the sake of developing characters. This is familial love so if I see any i*cest, I am blocking you on sight

Summary: When Ford comes to realize how much Dipper looks up to him, he seeks out a way to show his young nephew that there's no need to be intimidated by him.

Word count: 2,454

----

Dipper

Life just got a whole galaxy bigger.

Dipper thought he knew what his life would become when he found that old dusty book in the forest; he'd pursue adventure, get into danger, fight monsters.

But meeting his number one hero? And then finding out that he's related?

Not a chance.

It'd been a year since Dipper and his sister left Gravity Falls. They had lots of time that school year to ruminate on everything they had been through together. In the span of three months, their whole universe had turned inside out.

They had another uncle. Someone else to look out for and protect them. Mabel, as she is with all news of this sort, was over the moon. Dipper, however, wasn't as content. It wasn't that he didn't like Great Uncle Ford. Far from it. He loved him unconditionally. He worshipped the ground he walked on. He would fight a thousand beasts to earn his mentor's pride. And that was the problem.

Dipper had spent so long dreaming of the author as this distant hero; an intellectual mastermind that surpassed all around him. He dreamt of meeting him, yes. Bombarding him with questions, absolutely. But now the man was part of his family. The same family that he cracked stupid fart jokes and goofed around with.

Dipper wasn't prepared to have someone so important to him in his life on a permanent basis. He couldn't help but feel a little small around Ford, like every move he made was a chance to embarrass himself in front of his idol.

After his first summer in Gravity Falls ended, Dipper hoped that his overwhelming sense of awe would pass with the time, and he would grow more comfortable around this new addition to the family. But the moment he stepped off of that bus and saw his great-uncle there to greet him, he knew it wouldn't be quite that easy.

He volunteered for as many of Ford's experiments as he could. He offered as much help as he could provide. When faced with an obstacle, Dipper made sure to prove to his uncle that he was smart and tough beyond his years. This, as one might expect, is a difficult and exhausting image to maintain. Being "the perfect, mature man of science" was hard when you were a young, hormonal teenage boy. But that wasn't going to stop Dipper.

When Ford had asked if him if he wanted to help engineer a stronger form of glass that could withstand abnormally high temperatures, he nearly fell over with excitement. He was going to be the best lab assistant Ford could ask for.

It seemed, however, that he couldn't get that right after all, because when bringing over the regular glass jar for experimentation, it slipped through his fingers and shattered.

Dipper was mortified. Not only had he broken the constant variable in their experiment, but possibly also the trust Ford placed in him to be a responsible assistant. How could he have been so careless? Was their experiment ruined now? Did Ford think he wasn't taking this seriously?

"Oh my gosh! Oh my- I- I'm so sorry, Great Uncle Ford! I don't know what happened. I thought I had it" Dipper rambled, throat tightening.

"Aw shoot," Ford cursed under his breath, "It's okay, Dipper, it happens. Here, why don't you go fetch me a new jar from the back shelves while I sweep up this mess?"

"Act- Actually you know what, I think you might actually have an easier time doing this if I wasn't here. I- I don't want to get in your way. " Dipper shuffled back towards the door.

"But I thought you wanted to-" Ford turned to his nephew only to find that he was already gone.

---

Ford

It was unusual, and not the kind that Ford enjoyed. The puzzling kind of unusual.

The conclusion did not follow the variables. Variable one: Ford was conducting an experiment. Variable two: Ford asked Dipper for assistance. Variable three: Dipper was eager to help. Conclusion: Dipper had panicked and ran off. It just wasn't right. Something was off balance.

Now, in a technical situation, Ford could figure out the root cause himself. He had well over thirty years of practice doing so. But this was a human being. Moreso, this was his great nephew, and he wasn't so skilled in the people area. He needed to outsource this predicament with someone who knew Dipper longer than he had. Someone he could trust to tell him what he was doing wrong.

That someone in particular was tucking away a large medieval flail in the cupboards of the sitting room when Ford found him. What it was for, Ford thought it better not to ask.

"Stanley, can I talk to you about something?" He said.

"I didn't know it was a bear, honest!" Stan yelled.

"What?"

"Uhh, nothing. What's on your mind?"

"I have the strangest feeling that Dipper is more anxious than normal. He ran out of my lab this morning looking like he'd seen a ghost, which I have ruled out as a possibility because the air did not smell at all of sulfur. Anyway, the point is, I think something's wrong with him. You've known him far longer than I have. I thought maybe you would have better insight into these things" Ford explained.

Stan stood silently for a moment.

"Stan?"

"Oh sorry I was just enjoying the moment you finally came to me for advice"

"Stanley."

His brother quirked an eyebrow at him. "You don't gotta be a genius to figure this one out, Poindexter. The kid's afraid of looking bad in front of ya."

Ford was stunned into silence. This was a new feeling. An new, terribly odd feeling.

"What?"

"Come on, you've got to have noticed by now. He looks to you like you're a god. He practically worships the ground you walk on. You were like his hero before you'd even met him. You think he's not gonna feel some pressure to live up to your standard? He just wants you to be proud of him."

"I love him! He's my brother's grandson! And of course I'm proud of him. He's very remarkable for his age" Ford said.

"Then why don't you tell him that once in a while."

Ford lost himself in thought.

"Well, time to get back to restocking my weapons. Good luck with your family tension. I'll call you for dinner," Stan sauntered away, seemingly unbothered by the problem, "Prepping for battle, do do do..."

Once again, Ford was left alone to think.

---

This wasn't the first time that Ford had heard someone tell him that he had a standoff-ish impression on people, but he never thought it would impact his kin. Someone he treasured so greatly. Now that he knew how Dipper was feeling, he couldn't waltz around and act like he didn't know. Something had to be done. The only issue was, he didn't know what.

Ford waited a couple days before asking Dipper to rejoin his experiments, knowing that the boy probably wouldn't be willing to assist him just yet after what happened. To his relief, Dipper agreed.

It was still painful to know that his nephew was intimidated by him, but it felt nice just to have him by his side again being his seemingly normal self.

The day went without a hitch this time. In fact, things went quicker than expected and they finished early. It was as they were readying themselves to leave when Ford spoke.

"Thank you for your help today, Dipper. I've been having trouble operating all of this machinery by myself lately. Must have thrown out my back or something."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Dipper replied, "Muscles get tighter with age, so I'm sure it's normal."

Ford turned to look down at his nephew. "Are you calling me old?"

The boy paled. "Wh- I- Uh- I- I wasn't-"

"I'm afraid I have no choice but to punish you for your disrespect" the scientist said darkly.

Before Dipper could have time to overthink that threat, Ford pulled the boy into his arms, sat himself on the ground and started tickling his belly.

The first few seconds were filled with frantic babbling; jumbled syllables trying to make themselves into a coherent sentence. Ford wasn't hearing a "stop", so he didn't.

Dipper giggled hysterically. His face had instantly screwed itself up tight and was looking for a way to bury itself into some hiding place. "GREATUNCLEFORHOHORD! WHAT ARE YOU DOHOHOHOING?!"

"Tickling you, of course! I thought that was obvious," Ford answered with cheer, all pretend-seriousness gone. He chuckled. "I guess you inherited more from me than I thought."

Dipper couldn't seem to figure out what to do with his hands, until he settled on hiding his face with them.

"Aw, don't be shy, son. I'm not the author today. Today, I'm just your uncle," Ford then added with a growl, "Your uncle: the tickle monster!"

The boy's arms fell from his face, settling down on his lap like little t-rex arms. He seemed to have surrendered to the silliness of it and didn't bother to fight.

Wonderful, Ford thought, that means he trusts me!

As Ford moved from belly to sides to ribs, Dipper's laughter went up and down like a rollercoaster, his child-like smile never leaving his face. "IHIHIHI'M SORRYHIHIHI!"

"Nuh uh, kid. "Sorry"'s not gonna cut it," Ford said playfully. He was surprised how good he was at this. He didn't have much experience with playing with children, and he had thought his decades of interdimensional travel would've hardened him to such silliness. Thank the gods that it hadn't.

As Ford's hand started to travel up to the boy's underarm, the boy shrieked and suddenly found the will to fight.

"EHEHEHEK! NONONONONO!"

Ford couldn't help himself laughing at his adorable little ward. "Ticklish there, huh?"

"YEHEHES" Dipper cried.

"Okay, okay, I'll make you a deal. You take back what you said about me being old, and I'll stop tickling you."

Ford had expected the kid to be worn out by now. He thought it was only fair to offer him an out. To his surprise, he didn't take it.

Dipper seemed to think it over for a second, then shook his head with an extra giggle, one that was not from the tickling.

This kid is going to be the death of me, Ford thought, not a hint of regret in his mind.

"Okay, if you say so," the man said playfully, and dug all six fingers into the boy's hollows.

A shriek, and then more rambling, and then loud laughter.

Dipper, despite being tickled within an inch of his life, looked happier than Ford had ever seen him. If this was a dream, Ford did not want to wake up.

"I've got some questions for you, Dipper. Smile for yes and laugh for no, ya got it?"

All he could do was laugh.

"Okay, are you smart?"

Dipper sunk his chin in to his chest.

"Dipper, this won't work if you say yes and no" Ford remarked with fake incredulousness, "Okay, hmmmm... are you brave?"

The teen began to snicker.

"I don't think you understand the rules of this game," Ford said, which only made Dipper laugh harder.

"Alright, alright, last one. Are you ticklish?"

Dipper let out a snort at that infernal question.

"I'll take that as a yes," Ford smiled smugly.

After several more minutes of goofing around, Dipper finally had enough.

"OKAYHYHYHY OKAYHYHY! I TAKE IT BAHAHACK!"

"Good lad." And with that, Ford released his victim.

Dipper wrapped his arms around himself and giggled till there were no more laughs left in him.

"You okay, son? I didn't go too crazy, did I?"

"No no, I'm fihihine. Mabel's put me through much worhorse."

"I can believe that. She got that from your uncle Stanley, you know."

After having regained his breath, Dipper got up from his uncle's lap. "So... are you really not mad about the jar I broke the other day?"

"Oh, Dipper, of course I'm not. You should see the things I've broken down here. You'd be shocked."

"But when you make a mistake, it's different." Dipper recoiled. Apparently, he didn't mean to let that slip.

"What do you mean?"

Dipper's timidness was returning, and Ford almost regretted even asking.

"It's just... you've done so many great things and are so perfect the rest of the time that the mistakes you make don't count as much."

That was some seriously flawed logic, but Ford chose not to point it out.

Dipper continued. "I make too many mistakes."

"Dipper, you're supposed to make mistakes. You're twelve. Do you think I was able to do all the things I do now at your age? Not even remotely.

"And more to the point, you don't have to embarrassed about those mistakes. Especially not with me."

"But you're different! You're the author! The author I'd been searching for all summer. You're a dimension-hopping scientist! And surprise, surprise, you're even cooler in person! And I'm just... so... small.

"I keep trying to make myself useful, to be someone you can be proud of, but-"

Ford kneeled down and placed both hands on the kid's shoulders. "Dipper, listen very close to me. I'm going to tell you something, and I need you to really hear me, understand?"

Dipper hesitantly nodded.

"I am so proud of you. You're my great nephew. I'm proud of you every minute of every day. That's not something that can change. You've got nothing to prove to me. You make me proud simply by being who you are. Never question that. Can you do that for me, son?"

The boy looked near to tears.

Oh gods, Ford thought, did he say something wrong? He thought this would make him feel better, not worse! Should he-

Little arms suddenly hugged his neck tight. "Yeah... yeah I can."

Ford could not get his arms around him fast enough.

"Now, don't you ever go comparing yourself to me. What a disservice to your incredible self."

Dipper hugged tighter.

Ford himself could feel little pin pricks in his own eyes. He released his hug and cleared his throat.

"Well, I think we've had enough excitement down here for one day. What do you say we head back upstairs for dinner."

Dipper wiped his eyes with a happy smile. "Sounds good to me."

The two walked back towards the door, a new kind of bond formed between them. It felt like something had been accomplished today, and that was all either of them could ask for.

"You are old, though."

"Oh, I'll show you old. Get back here!"

----

This has been an idea of mine for quite some time. Rewatching the show was just the straw that broke this writer's back apparently. So happy to have finally written this ❤️

#tickle #tickles #tickling #ticklish #tickle community #tickle fic #gravity falls tickles #lee!dipper #ler!ford

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billysgun · 9 months

Text

loyal

billy the kid x cowgirl!reader |requested!|during the fight against murphy, you find out you're pregnant with billys child, and now you see where his loyalties lie |

you felt numb as you stared into the outhouse's seat that was swimming with your vomit like you did every morning while the gang went out and you were too sick to follow. but, you didn't let them know that.

because you aren't just sick, you're pregnant.

you know from the lack of blood in your bloomers -which would've been red 2 weeks ago, but it never came.

you think back to billy. the night where he drunkenly thrust in your with a raw cock. you both were whiskey-filled idiots and decided to fuck like you've been doing for months.

and now you're gonna have a baby.

and, in the middle of fighting the house. you're too sick to ride, can't stand the scent of gunpowder even when you used to soak in it, you have no chance of being here.

but billy? he isn't going to stop fighting for some mistake child.

you're on your own.

that night when they returned, billy snuck into your room and kissed up your neck

you tried to push the guilt aside and enjoy the feeling of his fingertips running up your thigh, your hormones begging for more touching but your morals drowning you in your shame

billy looked up at you right before he was gonna lay you on your bed, seeing the way your eyes were glossed over and brows twisted in not pleasure, but pain.

"darlin' whats wrong?" he immediately stopped as his eyes widened and hands cupped your face

"no, nothin' billy! don't worry" you quickly whispered, cursing at yourself as his worries grew

"is it the fight?" he asked, and you nodded, but he didn't seem satisfied

"nah, somethin' else in on your mind. you can tell me, love" he whispered, and you couldn't keep your tears in as they gently rolled down your cheeks as you whimpered a breath

"I'm pregnant, billy" you admitted and his eyes widened

"what?"

you let out another sob as he moved back from you

"I'm pregnant" you repeated and his fingers ran through his hair

"h-how long?"

"a little while-"

"before we joined this?" he asked and you quickly got defestive as you rose from the bed with furrowed brows

"no billy. not before" you sternly said and he turned away from you to hide his teary eyes

"why didn't you tell me- this is why you haven't been ridin' right? 'cuz you..." he paced around the room and you felt like a child who broke a vase as you stood with your head down

"I can't let you get hurt" he says walking up to you while grabbing your hands softly

"I can't let you get hurt, billy" you quickly add and he just shakes his head, your palm brings his face back to you

"this baby needs its father"

"not as much as it needs its mother, I'm not the kind of father a child wants" he whispered, tears brimming his eyes as you shook your head

"no, that's not true. they're so many rotten men out there, you're not one of them. you're loyal, and kind, and selfless-"

"I've killed people" he emphasizes and you just stare at him, backing up slowly once his eyes reveal the thing you worried most

"you're not leaving tunstall, are you?"

"...Y/n, I made a promise-" "what about this baby? you think fucking land is more important than a child you made?"

"I didn't fucking choose this!" he snaps and your eyes are wide as his words soak into both of you and he's quickly shaking his head as he moves toward you "I didn't mean that. I'm just sayin' I didn't-"

"what about me? you chose me first. what if I decide to stay and go with-"

"you're not doin' that. you're out of fighting." he sternly says but you just laugh

"I can't have you two gettin' hurt" he adds

"oh so now you care about the baby?" you ask, and he presses his lips together as you two are no longer talking and just fighting. with no response, you grab your shoes as you leave the cabin, leaving billy behind.

part 2 is: here

an: BILLY WHY???? haha but, hi guys!! & thank you for requesting!! <33

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serialkilluh1996 · 5 days

Text

✆𝐌𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐇𝐋𝐄𝐑✆

Older-Crush-König x Younger-female-reader pt.1

You have an unhealthy infatuation with König. But where there is obsession, there are dilemmas. He's 35, you're 21. He's your colonel, you're just an assistant. But most importantly, he can't fucking stand you.

Warnings: reader has specifically the personality i wrote, use of ☆☆☆ in place of reader's name, age gap (14 years), König is kinda of an ass, contact me if I need to add more.

Proshippers, Comshippers DNI

¹ 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ➛

It's been almost a year since you fell in love with this man.

You were 20, looking for a reasonably paying job to live a reasonably affordable life, and Kortac had just the position.

A base level assistant. All you had to do was make sure everyone was in check, keep track of everyone's time sheets, and make sure all important files, including inventory, were safely stowed away in your computer supplied by the company. Who could turn down such an easy job? You didn't even have to do any field work.

Your life was going pretty damn smooth, if it wasn't for him. Him being König, your colonel and angel. He's a gorgeous man. Bright blue eyes, a firm muscular body, imposing height, his flattering accent. You were instantly in love with him, and he fucking hated it.

It started off small, with him politely hinting you away, but you were persistent. Bothersome. You absolutely wouldn't let him go, and that very fact would be the death of you.

König taps his pen against his desk, unmotivated to write his paperwork that was long past due. It wasn't anything serious, just a list of yes/no, if/and, where/when questions he didn't feel like reading through. Tap tap tap tap, the pen knocks against the table, abruptly stopping once König noticed you standing in the doorway.

He sighs, his entire mood shifting from unmotivated to irritated. "...why are you here, ☆☆☆..." he asks, sounding like more of a statement than a question due to his heavy accent and rough tone. Your name sounded like a curse coming from his mouth; a slur, even.

"I've done all my tasks." You explain to him, hands clasped together as you lean against the threshold.

"Und? Did ya want a cookie or something?" He teases. "I–I–" you stutter out, not sure how to respond to his sarcasm. "Don't worry about it." He fans his hand, looking back down at the paper.

He would've wrather been writing than dealing with you right now. You were so genuinely in love, enamored by him and his....qualities. but to König, this was all just some dumb hormonal puppy crush. He wanted a mature woman, not some silly girl like you.

"I...wanted to know if you'd go to the bar with me." You force out, your stomach churning with anxiety as you finally got the words out. "I'm not gonna be able to sneak you, Liebling, if that's what you're implying." He chuckles softly, beginning to scribble away at the paper.

"Sneak me in? I'm old enough to go to a bar, thank you very much." You look offended. It's almost humorous to him. Your anger is probably the only thing about you that made him smile, how funny and easy it was to piss you off. The younger ones typically did have a shorter temper.

"Oh, und how old are ya? 16? 17?" "...21." You said firmly, visibly irritated. You somehow managed to be the youngest in every group, so you were no stranger to being tease about your age.

"Oh...just old enough to drink. So, you want me to come and babysit you while you get drunk off your ass by some alcohol you're probably not even strong enough to handle?" "Why are you acting like this?" You folded your arms, frowning.

"What?" "I'm not inviting you as a chaperone, I'm inviting you as a date." You tilt your head slightly.

"...A date?" König almost bursts into laughter, stifling his chuckles with coughs as he covered his mouth. You could feel your confidence dropping with every hearty giggle.

"You're asking me out? Seriously?" "...yes." You mumble, no longer wanting to talk. "Why don't you ask Avery, hm? He's MUCH closer to your age." You frown at his words.

Avery was one his soldiers. A very kind young man, no older than 25, messy blonde hair. You loved having Avery around and he always made your moments memorable, but...he was practically a brother to you. You didn't see Avery as a potential love interest, you saw him as a silly best friend who had your back when you needed it.

"I don't want to go with him. I don't like him." You pouted.

"Well, that's too bad, Liebling. I'm far too old to be going out with someone like you. You're too young, und frankly, quite annoying. I want a woman. Not a puppy. Go ask someone else," he clicks his pen, leaning back in his chair.

"You're a very beautiful young lady and I'm sure there's plenty of men your age willing to kill to be with you." "I don't care what tuey want, I care what I want." You try to sound demanding, like you're standing your ground, but it comes out like a spoiled child whining, frustrating you further.

"Don't throw a fit, now." "I'm not!" You shout, now angry with yourself for being so openly bothered by his rejection. He couldn't help but exhale, looking at the sight of you. Your face was hot with agitation, eyes squinted with frustration as you stared into his eyes. He couldn't help but smile at your clenched hands. You were awful at hiding your emotions. It was almost precious to him

He felt himself becoming more tense, having to look down at the desk and put a hand to his forehead. "What am I gonna do with you..." he shakes his head. This wasn't the first time he'd rejected your advances; you've asked a myriad of times, being slowly but surely denied with more force each time.

"... I'll consider it." He offers, scratching his forehead, and you almost instantly rejoice at the idea. You suppressed a squeal as you bit your lip, trying not to make yourself look dumber.

"But not as a date." He interrupts, and you become nervous again.

"I don't want any unnecessary rumors about us spreading around. I'm not dating you and I don't want people to have the impression that I am. I'll invite a few others to go along with us and you will behave like a proper young lady. Understood?" "....Understood."

You can support me by liking, commenting, reblogging, and/or cashapping me @fundsbrownie. Donations are optional, but much appreciated. Have fun! And remember, take care of yourself.

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tiredfox64 · 5 months

Text

Too Late? You’re Still Young!

Prior notes: DILFS! I LOVE THEM! I LITERALLY HAVE A I ❤️ DILFS SHIRT! YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE I LOVE? CONSENT! WE 👏 LOVE 👏 CONSENT👏!

Pairing: Johnny Cage (MK11) x Virgin! Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: NSFW, fingering, praising, nipple play, safe sex is sweeter, mating press, aftercare (is freaking important)

So you spent all of high school and all of college with you virginity in tact. Impressive, but it wasn’t your choice. With a sheltered home life like yours you struggled to understand the dating scene. You were too afraid to have a boyfriend since you worried you would get in trouble with your family. You never had the talk before but your hormones were a big indicator that you were missing some important information about your body. You somewhat found the solution when you placed a pillow between your legs and it felt incredible good to you.

Through Sex Ed class and word around school you figured out what you were in need of. But to get it seemed so difficult. At least now you knew your fingers were a good option.

That frustration grew in you and you couldn’t voice it out. Even telling it to your best friend Cassie felt wrong. You’re almost graduating and you still have your v card! You can’t do this anymore. Maybe it’s time to ask Cassie for advice. Even if she can’t help you maybe one of her friends can. Two of them are engaged to each other you doubt they are waiting till after marriage. Heaven knows you can’t.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You went over to Johnny’s mansion since you remembered Cassie was staying with him for a bit. You knocked on the door and waited patiently with an anxious look on your face. It was Johnny who opened the door.

“Hey! I haven’t seen you in a while,” He paused for a second, “Woah, what’s up with that face?”

“Hi, Mr. Cage. Is Cassie here right now?” You asked sheepishly.

“Nope, sorry. She just went out with Jacqui. But you should still come in. I’ll get you something to drink.” He invited you in.

You went inside, taking your shoes off at the entrance like a decent human being. You followed Johnny into the kitchen where you sat at the island. He gave you a glass of water which you thanked him for before he started talking.

“So what’s going on? You don’t seem to happy. Let me guess, a professor gave you a bad grade.”

He knows you too well. That could be true but not at this moment. You did smile though which is the reaction he wanted.

“No actually, it’s more of a…body issue.” You tried your best to explain it without saying it out loud.

“Ah, shark week I’m guessing? That’s why you need Cassie.”

“No! No! It’s another kind of issue that I have a hard time saying.” Your voice grew quieter the more you spoke.

Johnny stayed patient. He waited to see if you would say it yourself. You were being vague so he really didn’t understand what was going on. You sighed before continuing.

“The thing is I’m still a virgin. It’s really embarrassing. I feel so frustrated knowing that my body needs something but I either don’t know what it is or I can’t get it.” Now he understands.

He stayed silent for a bit as he thinks about what you said. He would say it’s no big deal but he’s a man with a high body count so he shouldn’t be talking. Still, he doesn’t want you feeling bad about it.

“Cassie did tell me you were a bit sheltered. But I don’t see why it’s a problem. You’re a nice and intelligent girl and I would hate for some dick to take your virginity as if it was nothing.”

“Everybody says that to me! I know what I am and I understand I need a good man to do it with. But how will I know what is considered a good man if no one tells me.” You were really expressing your frustration.

You had a point and Johnny could see that. You were at risk of being misguided. Everyone is at risk of that no matter what but you had a disadvantage. He had an idea that might work out but it seemed so stupid. Hormonal stupid. He’s been deprived for a while now and getting the chance to have some fun is really tempting right now. But he doesn’t want to take advantage of your situation. It won’t hurt to ask.

“Alright listen, how about you and me…do it. I’ll show you how it goes and what a man should be doing to you. It’s up to you. I won’t force you to do anything.” He said calmly.

You froze up and your cheeks started to feel warm. You were surprised he would suggest something like that even though you knew of his flirting habits. Was it a good idea however? He is your friend’s dad and he is way older than you. You can’t deny though that he is still good looking for his age. Older does mean more experience, right? He’s been so nice to you too so you can trust that he’s a good man. Screw it, he’s the best option!

“You wouldn’t mind doing that? I mean I do feel comfortable with you, especially since I don’t have any guy friends.”

“Of course, but only this one time. Promise me you won’t tell Cassie, right? I get it she’s your best friend and best friends tell each other everything and whatnot. But she is still my daughter and I doubt she will be happy that I banged one of her best friends.”

“I promise. She will never find out.” Better make sure of that.

He nodded before taking your hand and guiding you up the stairs. It was exciting yet nerve racking. Johnny could sensed that and squeezed your hand to tell you it’s gonna be alright. He’s gonna take good care of you.

You two walked into his bedroom. His bed was large and comfortable which helped settle your nerves. He brought you over to the bed and had you sit next to him. He may be an expert in this but he has never really dealt with a girl who was so nervous before. He better take this real slow and talk you through it.

“Alright, first things first, a man should never go right into it. Foreplay is very important. It will help make the experience better for you and prevent you from getting hurt down there.” He instructed.

You had no idea what foreplay was but you trusted Johnny enough to not asking him about it. You were right to do so since all he did at first was kiss your neck. Already that was a lot for you. Each kiss felt like a little tingle that shot down between your legs.

Johnny’s hand was slowly tracing down your body till he got to the waistband of your pants. Your breathing hitched which alerted him you were getting nervous again.

“Shh, it’s okay. Remember I’m taking it slow. I won’t hurt you.” He whispered against your neck.

You relaxed a little as his hand slipped under. His fingers lightly touched your clit and you whimpered immediately. It felt way different than when you would do it to yourself. This is way better, probably cause you are receiving it from someone else. Johnny wanted to see how you were a little more down and was surprised at how wet you already were. He could easily slip his fingers in if he wanted to.

“Damn, you’re really wet. I’ve never had a girl get this excited so quickly.” He commented.

You were embarrassed by that. Barely touched and you are soaking wet down there. You turned your head away from Johnny to prevent any further embarrassment. He just chuckled lightly at your reaction.

“It’s not a bad thing. It makes it easier. You’re doing good.”

One of his fingers slipped into your pussy with ease. You gasped in surprise and pleasure. You never fingered yourself since you never felt anything from it. But you sure felt it now. That one finger slowly pumped inside you as his thumb rubbed your clit. You were keeping yourself together which was good. Johnny felt like you could take a little more.

“You think you can take another one?”

You nodded your head confidently. You wanted more anyways. Your body was in need of it. Now having both his ring and middle finger in you was like heaven. He went a little faster while his thumb kept rubbing your clit.

Your whimpers to turned to quiet, breathy moans. Now it felt too good. Without thinking you were trying to close your legs. You don’t know why you do it you just know you don’t want to make it hard for Johnny.

“Gotta keep your legs open for me. I promise it will be better for you if you do.”

You listened and tried your best to keep your legs open, spreading them wider than before. That should do it.

“That’s it, good girl.” He whispered.

Immediately you had a reaction. Your heart did flips and you felt warmth in your stomach. Johnny caught on when he felt your pussy clench against his fingers. Not surprising considering you always did seem excited by praise no matter what. He’ll keep that in mind when he fucks you in just a moment.

Your body grew hotter the longer this went on. It didn’t help that Johnny was so close to you. So close that his other hand went to the small of your back to support you. You didn’t know what to do with your hands so you were left clenching the bed sheets. Suddenly he asked you a very important question.

“Wait, now that I’m thinking about it, have you even had your first kiss?”

Nope, you didn’t even get that. You nodded no.

“Well I must look like a jerk. What kind of man am I,” He said comedically, “Let me help you with that as well.”

This must be some sort of dream. A dirty one at best. A dream where you are kissing your best friend’s hot dad as he fingers you. Even if you weren’t the best at kissing, Johnny was making it work. Thank goodness your lips were soft cause you’d be embarrassed if they weren’t.

This was all enough to send you over the edge. It really didn’t take much effort since you were so deprived. Your eyes were shut tight as you felt pleasure pulse through your body. You were moan against Johnny’s lips. He felt your pussy clench his fingers which was enough evidence to show he just made you cum. Damn, in three minutes? That’s a new record. To him that was impressive and boosted his already high ego. You were embarrassed, thinking that cumming too early was a bad thing. It’s only bad when it’s guys, you’re fine.

“I’m sorry. I thought I would last longer.” You apologized.

“There’s no need to apologize. It just means we can get to the really fun part now. Take your clothes and get comfortable on the bed.” He instructed.

Johnny gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before slipping his hand out from your pants. He wanted to make sure you were still comfortable. There was no need to feel embarrassed around him. The important thing is if you’re comfortable and still okay with this.

You took your time when taking your clothes off. Obviously you never stripped down in front of a man. Even when you would go to the pool you were nervous to take your shirt off. This was a big leap but you felt like you could do this. Deep breathes and take your time.

While you did that, Johnny went over to his bedside table to grab a condom. You could see how prepared this man is when you saw the long line of condoms he had. It’s been a while for him, they’re still good.

When you took all your clothes off you were quick to get on the bed and cover yourself with the blankets. He doesn’t mind he understands. He started to strip his clothes off and oh…wow.

You don’t care what anybody says he is like fine wine. He looks like he’s still in his prime. You couldn’t deny you felt yourself get wetter and you pressed your thighs together to alleviate the pressure down there. Then he took his pants off. Girl, you’re in trouble but a good kind of trouble.

You’re not mathematician or scientist but you can definitely say he was bigger than average. Was it supposed to be that thick? He saw how wide your eyes were and decided to tilt your head up so you could look at him instead.

“You should probably keep your eyes on me for now. Might scare you if you look down there for too long.” He’s not wrong but he sounds arrogant saying that.

He got on the bed and slowly pulled the blankets off you. You were still being shy which is fine. There is no need to rush into this he will make sure you are comfortable with going ahead. Plus, he’s gotta comment on those tits.

“You have a nice pair on you. Do you mind?” He was asking for your permission to play with them.

You nodded and he went in slowly. You felt his hands cup your breasts gently. His thumb rubbed against your soft skin. You were surprised by how calming it felt. Sure you were even more turned on but you also felt less nervous. Johnny came in closer and started to leave kisses all over them. At first it was gentle but then he decided he wanted to leave hickeys on them. Nothing too big but they were the perfect spot since no one will see them. It was definitely a new feeling but when you saw the marks he left on you, you knew you liked it.

You know what else you liked? When his tongue ran over your nipple. It surprised you but you soon relaxed again to the feeling. He sucked on your nipple gently, not wanting to overstimulate you just yet. His other hand went to pinch your other nipple which excited you more. Once again it was another situation where it felt better when someone else did it instead of you. With all this combined you started to grow needy. There was no sense of embarrassment or nervousness anymore, only this need to be fucked. You started to whine which let Johnny know you were ready.

“Alright, alright, I get you. Just give me a second, babe.”

It didn’t take long for Johnny to put the condom on, what a manwhore. He angled himself before holding your hand. It was for support.

“Just tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”

Then he started to push into your wet pussy. The feeling of being stretched out for the first time was deliciously painful. It’s not what you expected. You expected to be screaming and for a bunch of blood to come out. Nope, not at all. Inch by inch he slowly pushed himself inside of you till he was fully in. He didn’t start thrusting immediately since he knew you had to adjust.

“You okay?” He asked.

“I’m more than okay.”

“That’s good. You’re doing so good. So good for me.” Johnny started to give you kisses on your face which you appreciated.

After a few moments he started slowly thrusting into you. Your hand squeezed his but you never told him to stop. The pain slowly turned into pleasure. Finally, the pleasure of being fucked. Each thrust was another wave of pleasure through you. It was confusing at first, like your mind couldn’t comprehend something this good. Your body could.

Johnny started picking up the pace when no sign of pain was present in your face. You stopped having control over your moans. You weren’t being loud like a porn star. It was more like you couldn’t fake it even if you tried.

Damn, that’s what I sound like?

He didn’t want to push it too far but he was so tempted to pound into you. It’s been so long and you honestly felt amazing. He loved looking down at you and watching your breasts jiggle every time he thrusted in. You squeezed so nicely around his cock. He was trying to hold himself back from getting rough and you could see that. You wouldn’t push your lucky but your body says otherwise. Hormones are crazy like that, they will yell at you to do anything to get the pleasure you need. Your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs around his waist. You looked into his eyes and you said something that seemed so out of character for you but was what you truly wanted.

“Please go harder.” You begged.

“Fuck, are you sure?” Trust me, Johnny wanted to but he was still worried about hurting you.

You whined and wrapped your legs even tighter around his waist which let him know you weren’t playing.

“Alright, I get it. Never would have expected you to be so needy.” He teased.

He’ll do you one better. How about a new position? Nothing crazy but you will like it. He grabbed your thighs and pushed your legs back before putting you into a mating press. And you thought he was already deep enough. Good thing you are surprisingly flexible.

You really do need to keep your legs open more. It felt amazing to you when Johnny started pounding into your pussy. This position made it easier to hit that sweet spot inside you which you didn’t even know about.

You could hear a wet, squishing sound coming from down there every time he pulled in and out. Not only that but there was also the sound of skin slapping every time he rammed into you. It turned you on even more. You know why? Cause that’s the sound of being fucked, honey!

Johnny had a nice view in front of him. Listening to you moan for him as he continues to fuck you. You make him feel young again. He still has it in him. The energy to have fun with a girl and make her moan. Fuck, he is so glad he is doing this now.

You would be thinking the same but all you could focus on was how big he was and how all of that was slamming into you. At this point why hide any of your moans. No one is around and this is your first time. You should have as much freedom as you want. Get the full experience. You were keeping your eyes closed out of embarrassment but that won’t last for long.

“Come on, open those pretty eyes for me. Can you do that just for me, gorgeous?” Johnny whispered to you.

When he says it like that how can you deny. You slowly opened your eyes to look up at him. Sure you were still embarrassed but you realize that it was just hotter this way. The connecting that the eyes make. You’ve never seen a man look at you in such a way. A look that makes you feel desirable. There might even be some affection behind it. Because Johnny does care for you. Even if this is a one time thing he wants you to have the best experience and walk away with no regrets. It’s working for you.

It was all so much. The sounds, the feelings, the connection, the intimacy is all getting to you. Your nails started scraping against his back lightly. Your toes curled and your legs shook a little. Your eyes almost rolled back and your moans grew louder. You were about to cum and Johnny could see that.

“You’re gonna cum? You wanna cum, pretty girl? Go ahead. Just keep looking at me.” He commanded.

You kept looking at Johnny as he slammed into your sweet spot again. This orgasm was better than the last one. It felt like a heat radiated through your body. All your worries came undone just like you. Like a knot just unraveling in your stomach. You looked at Johnny with half-lidded eyes as you let out breathy moans. Damn, he could have came right there on the spot but he was holding himself together.

“Bet that felt good, didn’t it.” He teased before leaving some kisses on your face.

You knew Johnny would feel like a king after making you cum twice. He’s cocky like that. Ah, but you forgot. He hasn’t cum yet.

“You think you can go a little longer for me, baby? Just a little longer.” He asked to keep going so he can cum.

He didn’t wanna overstimulate you during your first time but it’s your call. You’re a trooper, you can go a little longer even though you are incredibly sensitive down there now. You nodded which made him smile.

He stopped pressing down on you which was a relief for your legs. He still kept them open. He started thrusting into you again, not as rough as when he had you in a mating press but it still felt great. He watched as his cock went in and out of your pussy. Your wetness coated the condom and it still made a wet sound. Oh how he wished he could just take it off and fuck you raw. Fell how warm you are and cum into that sweet pussy of yours. But that’s a stupid idea. One that young Johnny would make and he’s a better man than that. Still won’t stop him from thinking about it.

And that view of you, mwah! Watching your legs shake slightly from being overstimulated. Your hands gripping the sheets around you. Your breasts kept jiggling no matter how hard he pounded into you. He can see your eyes grow wet as you handle the sensations. All that combined with his little fantasy of cumming inside you sent him over the edge. One more thrust in and he was cursing softly as his cum filled the condom.

You both were left panting after that wonderful experience. Johnny pulled out and went to dispose of the condom. Damn there was a lot in there.

You were pretty exhausted but happy nonetheless. You don’t really know what you are supposed to do after. If you’re supposed to just put your clothes on and walk off as if what happened didn’t happen. That’s not how this goes. Not with Johnny.

He came back to you with a bottle of water in his hand. He went next to you and helped you sit up, placing his other hand on your back.

“You’re probably really exhausted after that. Here, drink this.” You gladly accepted the bottle of water, not even realizing how parched you were.

“So, what now? Do I just leave?” You asked which just proved to Johnny that it was best that he did it with you first.

“If a man ever told you to leave right after he’s an asshole. Don’t ever let a man do that to you. Come here.” Johnny pulled you close to him and made you lay down.

Your head laid on his chest which his arm was wrapped around you. He pulled the blankets over you to make sure you were comfy. His fingers ran through your hair which soothed you even more. This was incredibly nice. You didn’t realize how tired you were till he put you in this position. Your eyelids started to grow heavy and your breathing slowed down. There was only one thing left to say to him.

“Thank you…” You said softly.

You drifted off to sleep in his arms as he gave you a kiss on your forehead. Maybe Johnny was getting pretty old since he needed to sleep as well after that. He too started to fall asleep, happy to have a wonderful girl next to him again.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Cassie and Jacqui just came back from their little, or more like big, shopping trip. Cassie was about to call out to her dad till she saw your shoes at the entrance.

“Oh shit, she’s here?” She said.

She went around calling your name, surprised you weren’t out in plain sight. in fact, neither was her dad. She guessed that maybe you were upstairs in her room. Nope, not there either. Well if anything her dad had to be in his room or something. She knocked a few times but no answer. She just decided to open the door herself.

“Hey dad, do you have any idea where-“ Cassie stopped herself when you looked at the scene in front of her. Even Jacqui gasped out loud.

She slowly closed the door again, a shocked expression on her face. She looked at Jacqui who confirmed what they saw was true. Out of all of Cassie’s friends she would have never suspected you of sleeping with her father. She doesn’t even think you did it on purpose you’re not that kind of person. This was all so much and she could only mutter three words.

“What the fuck.”

After notes:🍊…🦊so like, you gonna pay rent or something? Do I gotta feed you? Fuck do you even eat? One of your comrades came crashing through the window this early morning. Who the fuck gonna pay for that? Ah, anyways. My daddy issues have come to say hi. Can’t tell if fucking Johnny will heal me or having him be a father figure to me will. Just need him to ruffle my hair and tell me my professors are the bitches not me. Hope y’all have a good day! Adiós!

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 11 #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #mk x reader #mk x you #mk fanfic #mk smut #mk11 johnny cage #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage x y/n #johnny cage mk11 #mk11

397 notes · View notes

sosa2imagines · 9 months

Text

Thief

Warning- Fluff

Bucky had a nightmare in the middle of the night. He got up panting, gasping for air. He tried to sleep again, but gave up after trying for few minutes and went to the kitchen. He leaned against the counter, but after a few minutes later, he heard footsteps. Bucky turned around and saw Y/n in her cute pajamas come down the stairs. Y/n had joined the avengers just a year after Bucky.

Their relationship was simple in the beginning. Just the formal 'hellos' and 'how are yous'. But as time went by, and being on missions together, they became friends, the more they got to know each other, more barriers were dropped. They became best of close friends, joined to the hip, inseparable even by Steve. But there was one barrier though. They both were dancing, around their feelings.

As soon as she turned on the light, she looked at him "Are you okay?" Bucky sighed, "I'm fine just another nightmare", Bucky said, as his mind raced with thoughts of his past. That was another thing, that didn't changed for him, his nightmares. No matter how much Steve, you or anyone helped, it was hard for him to deal with.

You knew about his nightmares and how hard it was for him to deal with. You always came up with a different approach to help him and he was always grateful for that. So seeing him hesitate a bit, you came up with a plan. "Have a seat, I know something that will help you relax." Bucky looked at you confused but did as told with a curious smirk. He sat down and waited for you to do what you want.

You brought him cookies and milk with a smile on your face. Bucky was delighted, seeing the cookies and milk. The one thing he did looked forward to after a nightmare, was you coming up with different ideas to make him feel good.

Bucky took some of the cookies and milk and started to eat. "This is good...", He said after taking the first bite. "Thank. you Y/n" "Most welcome" you smiled.

Bucky looked away with a sigh "You don't have to stay" he says, feeling a bit uncomfortable about his nightmare saga, not wanting to disturb you. But soon he felt relief wash over him, as he looks at you, still sitting next to him eating cookies and smiling.

"You are stubborn, aren't you?" He says, feeling comfortable with having you around.

"Of course, I'm!! you should have known by now!" you chime with a grin on your face.

Bucky smiles and eat the rest of the cookies, while, you both sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Then he speaks again, looking at you. "These cookies were good" "Never underestimate good cookies!" He looks over at you and nods his head. "Well it's getting kind of late so we should go to bed, thank you Y/n..." He says, getting up from the chair. You were kinda upset, that he is going back, but you knew, it was important for him to sleep. "Umm..ok Bucky"

"If you don't mind I would like to do this again" He suggests, blushing a bit. As soon as he said that, you look at him with all the happiness inside of you. "Yes, of course I would love that." He smiles, god that hormones breaking smile! "Good night, doll"

Some nights later, Bucky woke up again, in the middle of the night. The nightmare still fresh in his mind. He sits up in bed and let out a sigh. He checks the clock and notice that it's 3am. He looks around the room, wondering if anyone is still up or a specific, someone is up. That's when he heard noises outside.

He goes out to see. He looks around, and notices Y/n in the common room eating something on the couch. "Y/n, doll?" he whispers, as he gets closer to you. "Hey, wassup?" you ask and Bucky shakes his head, and looks at you "Are you okay? What are you doing outside this late?" he asks, voice barely above a whisper. "I can't sleep..." you shrug casually. He nods in understanding "Me neither you know why... can't focus because of it."

You gave him a smile, you knew how some nightmares can be really disturbing for him. You needed to think of something different, to help him. That's when you come up with an idea. "I'm a thief by the way, night profession"

"You steal at night?" He asks quietly, with a puzzled look on his face, panic evident in his voice.

"Yup, being an avenger, no one can doubt me." "What do you steal?" He asks, his curiosity peaking up. "Your tensions and worries" you answer with a smile and his heart melts. He was a little startled at first, but then he let out a soft chuckle, his feelings for you rising up. "You managed to do that" he smiles, sitting next to you on the couch.

"Did it really work?" "Well...I'm not feeling tense anymore as I was before" he says giving you the hormones blasting smile. "Are you really a thief" "Yes! I'm really a thief" you tell him proudly.

"Well if you're a thief..." He pauses for a moment, then gets a mischievous look on his face. "Why don't you steal away my heart?" He grins, as he looks at you with raised eyebrows, making you blush. This was the perfect opportunity for him, to work on his feelings and to see if you reciprocate. And it would not be awkward, if nothing happened.

He smiles and tilts his head to the side, "Well I'm waiting" He says with a sly smile, "When are you gonna steal it doll?" Okay, hold on you were totally not prepared for this! It's not like you didn't want to, but man he was being bold and brave. Damn that panty wetting smirk. "You are awake! That's not how stealing works!!"

Bucky rolls his eyes with a smirk on his face. "You know what I mean..." He says with a smile and then he glances over at the clock, noticing that it is getting late. "Well it's getting late we should go back to sleep..." He gives up, thinking you might not be interested, but the blush on your cheeks, what if? He pauses for a moment, contemplating what to do? Then he smirks, "But before I go I want to do this..." He looks over at you slowly approaching, leaning in to kiss you. You were surprised, but soon melts into the kiss. The kiss was soft yet passionate. You silently touch his heart while kissing, placing your hand firm. "I stole your heart." you mumble in between the kiss.

He puts his hand on top of yours. The kiss was passionate and he can feel his heart racing, fluttering in his chest. "Oh my god! You...actually did it." He says laughing softly.

"It's mine now." "It is yours"

#sebastian stan characters #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader

310 notes · View notes

heartandfangs · 2 years

Text

NOT IF IT'S YOU— PART ONE.

GENRE University AU, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Romance, Angst, Smut, Fluff

PAIRING Nerd!Heeseung x f!Reader

WARNINGS 18+ ONLY MDNI, Jealousy, Cursing, Making out, Arguing, Anxiety, Depression, Flirting, Mentions of food, Brief violence, Brief mention of alcohol, Brief mention of somnophilia, Crying (all sorts), Degradation, Breast worship, Multiple Orgasms, Squirting, Coming untouched, Heavy spit play, Light BDSM, Edging, Spanking, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Cream Pie, Dry humping, Praise kink, First-time blow job, Ball sucking, Fingering, Cum eating, Ear licking, Biting, Public Sex, Light bondage, Dom!Heeseung, Brattysub!FemMC, Sub!Heeseung, Softdom!FemMC, Other OC’s

SUMMARY Befriending a nerd who wants nothing to do with you in a coding class you want absolutely nothing to do with becomes the challenge of the semester— and you’re determined to ace that shit no matter what. WORD COUNT 29k (Fic Total)

AUTHOR’S NOTE Long time no see— it’s P, the romantic at heart! This one’s for the people who play otome games, whose favorite spot on campus is the library, and who are afraid to be loved but want to love as hard as they possibly can.

Enjoy my contribution to the tropey Uni AU genre! Also wtf thank you for 1k followers (If you’re a minor please unfollow me. Idc if that puts me way back under. If you’re not, thank you, and stay tuned bc I will do something to celebrate… once I get through 6 months worth of notifications rip)

See end of part two for author’s note cont.

Masterlist, Part Two

“Have you ever gotten the random urge to give someone a blow job?”

You lifted your head from your notes, eyes wide and scrutinizing. Why did your friend have to be so damn loud in the library, of all places?

A scoff barely escaped your mouth before you dived back into your textbook, “There’s not a person with a dick on this university campus that deserves one from me. Why? Have you?”

“All the time, but especially when I’m on my period,” Rin confessed, “Hormones.”

“Oh, I bet.”

I don’t know how Rin finds the time to think about these things…

Your friend pouted while drumming her pencil against the communal library table as if she could hear your judgemental thoughts. There were more important things for you to worry about, clearly.

You sighed as you began to pack up your backpack to catch your most dreaded class of the semester, coding.

It was an elective you immediately regretted taking, but you swore to yourself to see it through to expand your skill set. Unfortunately, it was just a week into the semester, and the horrid feeling that you would fail a class for the first time was way too real.

Rin continued to spew nonsense, “Maybe I should check this dating app—”

You slung your backpack over your shoulder and ruffled Rin’s hair on your way to the elevators, “You are a slut, aren’t you?”

“Please stop acting like you’re not,” Rin rolled her eyes and raised her voice just enough to carry over the bookshelves and be heard by unsuspecting students, “There’s only so many otome games one can play!”

“Shhh!” You hissed at her to shut up, eyes shooting daggers at the snickering girl.

She must’ve been spying on you every time you pulled out your phone to take a break. What did she have against your little games? After your first relationship went up in flames, they were a pretty decent replacement for dating and soon became an addictive hobby.

They were great time-killers, required minimum commitments, and had a plethora of eye candy to choose from. Even if you did screw up, you just needed to wait a few days to replenish your lives. Plus, they all fit in your pocket…

And they could never break your heart like your ex had.

‘I’m gonna kill you’, You mouthed at her over your shoulder while slamming your fist against the elevator button.

Rin tapped her lips with her middle finger and sent you a flying kiss. Deep down, she hoped you’d come across a sweet boy for your own good.

While you stared at the colored lines of code on the monitor in front of you, determined to at least figure out how to embed one damn photo onto your website for tomorrow’s critique, your silent tablemate on your left tapped away at his keyboard with ease.

Everything about the guy screamed overachiever; it was 45 minutes after class had ended, and he was still working away on his project after everyone else had left.

Meanwhile, you were pretending to know what you were doing by typing in some random characters and then immediately deleting them. Being the anxiety-ridden person you were, you managed to work up a nervous sweat, your palms going numb.

Fuck, this is embarrassing. I should just leave and figure it out once I get home.

The student next to you didn’t seem to have any issues, but then again, the course you enrolled in was actually a combined class with different levels, and clearly, this wasn’t his first course in the subject. It was definitely an odd curriculum; you weren’t sure why you hadn’t read the class description more thoroughly.

“Hi! Mind if I sit here?” You asked the student earlier upon seeing the closest open seat available.

The boy didn’t say hello, he merely spared you a glance, adjusted his glasses, then resumed the staring contest with his computer screen.

“Okay…” You said with a touch of annoyance in your tone. His eyes barely shifted to your face in response, and then he was back to typing.

His standoffish attitude from the moment you walked into the class and took the closest open seat next to him irked you more than it should’ve.

It wasn’t until you sat down next to him that you were thrown off by how big the guy actually was, but even more so, the faint scent of sweet lavender wafting off of him. You weren't sure whether it was cologne or detergent, just that it somewhat reminded you of your favorite macaron flavor.

How unexpected. Well, that ruins it, you thought.

Even if the guy smelled pretty damn nice, he was snooty in your book. If he didn’t have such an aloof attitude about him, you might’ve befriended him just to reach out for notes in the class in case you got sick.

Rin often called you a prideful bitch, and you’d brush off her accusations, but deep down, you knew her words had some weight to them. Prideful was a fair adjective; your strong desire to handle your own business kept others at bay, which was great for someone like you who liked to be left to your own devices.

Though pride paired with stubbornness wasn’t necessarily the most beneficial combination when finding oneself in a pinch…

Nearly two hours of the class begrudgingly swept by, and you were still stuck on the initial steps, your brain utterly confused by the jumble of lines and coding rules you had to adhere to. It was a huge struggle to keep up with the pace the professor taught, let alone ensure the material stuck in your brain.

It also didn’t help that the boy next to you had the audacity to pull up a window of manga on the side to read while you were struggling your ass off.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed at him.

Now, the class was well over, and you still managed to convince yourself to stay even though the shit your professor covered in lecture went in through one ear and out the other.

After such a long day of stacked classes, your facade slipped, and you dropped your head into your hands. If you were honest, some of your pride slipped along with it. Since you were so busy, the last meal you had eaten was yesterday’s dinner, and you were starving. There were tons of other class assignments you hadn’t even touched yet.

You bit your lip and watched the boy out of the corner of your eye, debating for a solid minute if you should ask for help. At this point, you were just wasting precious time that could be spent running to the nearest McDonald's for a burger.

In the name of efficiency, you decided to reach out for help from the person you least wanted to ask— but just this once.

“Hey. Could you show me how to add an image to my site? I can’t figure it out even though I tried to follow the directions….”

First, you saw the boy’s brown eyes widen ever so slightly before he looked over you in consideration.

If he says no, I guess I’ll go fuck myself.

“Sure.”

Oh.

Feeling your heart flood with relief, you replied gratefully, “Thank you.”

You were taken aback when you watched him slide off his chair and drop to his knees by your side. He leaned over the edge of the table to take control of your mouse and keyboard, his attention fixed on the debauched code on your screen.

Really, you two could’ve just switched seats, but you decided to let him do his thing while you tucked your hands under your thighs and watched. Your brain was beyond trying to make sense of what he was inputting into your code.

Funnily enough, the silence between you two was even more awkward than it had been before you spoke to each other. Still, you refrained from distracting him, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.

After a minute, you decided to check him out instead.

Your eyes shifted between the computer screen and his calm, concentrated features since you hadn’t really gotten a good look at him before.

His black, wispy bangs hung just over his dark eyes, and his circular, silver-rimmed glasses sort of amplified their roundness. They held a touch of naïveté in them– but when you looked at him from the side, they were sharpened due to focus.

Admittedly, he had the softest-looking set of lips, the kind that anyone would easily be jealous of. The slope of his nose was just as cute, to your annoyance.

Your eyes trailed downwards to the pronounced curve of his throat, but just for a moment before returning your attention to the screen of code.

He was attractive in an unexpected sort of way.

It actually was kind of sweet that he’d be willing to kneel on the questionable floor of the computer lab to help you out. You wondered if he was trying to make up for ignoring you at the beginning of class.

“Is this the photo you want to add?” He hovered the mouse over the recent file in your downloads folder.

“Yeah.”

You must’ve really fucked up your code because the slowest five minutes passed before he clicked save on your program, and most of it you spent trying to act like you hadn’t been staring at him every other second.

The boy finally stood up with the slightest groan, and to your dismay, the sound went straight between your thighs.

Woah there.

“Try refreshing that,” He instructed while rubbing at his kneecaps through his jeans.

With the click of a mouse, you refreshed the program to see a jpg of your favorite Shrek meme pop up on your otherwise bare-bones-looking website.

“Wow— it actually works. Thank you,” You were unable to help yourself from beaming up at him, rather impressed at his efficiency.

He merely nodded, averting his eyes.

Was he older than you or younger? Did he work on the weekends? Have a significant other? A myriad of ridiculous questions bombarded your mind.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

That was a good, normal place to start.

“Heeseung,” he stretched his arms over his head and winced at the slightest crick of his shoulder. All your eyes could focus on were the sharp lines of his waist peeking out under the edge of his sweatshirt.

You introduced yourself as casually as you could, “My name’s ___. This really isn’t my thing, so thank you.”

“Anytime,” He said simply, rubbing at the back of his neck.

In a flash of a second, the shameless part of your mind dared to imagine how that shy expression of his might twist into one of pleasure— how his breathy sighs would fill your ears while he was hunched over, bracing himself on the table. At the same time, you pictured yourself between his long legs, mouthing kisses over his bulge, watching him twitch above you all the while.

‘Who’s the slut now?�� You could already hear Rin’s ridiculous comments; she must’ve poisoned your brain with the thought.

Feeling yourself starting to go slightly demented from the turn of events, you excused yourself and threw your supplies into your backpack to leave as quickly as you could, entirely oblivious to how Heeseung stared after you on your way out.

Heeseung meant it when he said, ‘anytime.’

From that day on, there wasn’t an instance where he didn’t hesitate to help when you asked him for it. Each day, you grew less and less hesitant to ask him for assistance which was… interesting.

What was even more unbelievable was that he never asked for anything in return, and you were so grateful, so smitten by him. The assignments you received were absolutely distressing, yet Heeseung didn’t appear to resent your requests and was always more than willing to lend you a hand. Based on your life experience, that was far from normal.

There was a question that you just had to ask a few weeks into the semester when he was helping you work on one of your projects for the nth time.

“Honestly, do you like doing this?”

Heeseung leaned back in his chair and appeared contemplative while stretching his wrists. “No. Coding is a tedious process, but if you’re referring to helping you,” He looked at you with an earnest gleam in his eyes and gave you a small smile, “Yes, I really like helping you.”

It was the first time you felt your heart skip in a while.

Right then and there, you could’ve dropped to your knees and let him use your mouth however he pleased. Fuck everyone else in the class; you would’ve done it.

On a serious note, it was unfortunate that you had nothing to offer him of value in the class.

Your creative mind worked so differently, and you two didn’t share any other classes you could help him with. So you often tried to make up for it by conversing and attempting to get to know him.

Emphasis on attempt.

The downside to your interactions was that he rarely engaged with you on the occasion, even when you tried to initiate a casual conversation with him.

“What are you always reading during class?” You glanced over at his screen curiously one day.

Heeseung was always quick to minimize the extra window when you caught him. “Nothing much, just manga. Need something?”

“What? I— No, I was just wondering,” You’d quirk a brow at him, and he’d return to his task.

Every time you came into class and took the same seat next to him, you’d greet him, and he’d greet you in return but left it at that. After assisting you with an issue, he’d always quietly turn back to his computer and pick up where he left off. Maybe you’d be able to get in a question or two, but he hardly talked up a storm.

Even when you probed him about his life, Heeseung merely gave short replies or shook off your questions. He was so difficult to get to know and apparently didn’t care to hold a conversation with you outside of coding. Still, you were insistent because you were a relatively private individual yourself. Really, you tried to understand where he was coming from.

“I’m so glad I don’t have classes after this,” a yawn escaped your lips as you covered your mouth with your hand.

Heeseung’s typing never ceased, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You stared at his profile, waiting to see if he’d continue the conversation. After a second too long of waiting, you asked, “Do you have any night classes?”

“I don’t. I have work.”

You perked up in your seat. “Oh? Where at?”

“I’m actually about to change jobs, so it really doesn’t matter,” Heeseung responded curtly.

You sank back into your chair. “Oh. Sorry.”

He turned to look at you as if to say something, an apologetic expression nearly taking hold of his features, but he seemingly held himself back and returned to his work.

Still, within the coming weeks, you grew curious about his family as well. One day your curiosity was at its peak, and you rattled off questions about any possible siblings he might have. That was less intrusive than asking about a significant other, right?

“So, are you an only child, or do you have any siblings?” You probed during a particularly long day and difficult class session. When one’s brain was already fried, it didn’t hurt to completely give up on figuring something out, especially if you had Heeseung.

Just for today, you promised yourself as Heeseung was clicking away at your keyboard, helping you out as usual.

“... I have a brother,” Heeseung hesitated, “Stepbrother, actually. He’s a student as well.”

“No way? Same major as you?”

“No…” and he left it at that, making you wonder if they weren’t on the greatest terms... Or if he just didn’t care to share more of his life with you.

Nonetheless, your attempts to converse with him day after day eventually took a toll on you. Clearly, you were bothering him with the questions, but it’s not like you just chose anyone to put effort into getting to know. Why couldn’t he understand that? Most people would’ve loved getting asked about their life and would easily drone on and on about themselves.

Rin would cackle at you now if she only knew of your circumstances. As if you would ever tell her with the shit way things were going.

God, I should just stick to my little otome game apps with automated responses.

After several weeks of your relationship with him going nowhere, your savior became the source of your frustration.

Guys never helped you out without an ulterior motive or expecting something in return, so it was almost inconceivable to think someone like Heeseung existed. His caring personality subverted your initial expectations of him, and you knew his selfless actions came from a sincere place, but still…

This had grown beyond needing his help in class. All you wanted to do was get to know Heeseung because you had taken a genuine interest in him.

Was that asking for a lot?

The day you walked into class and plopped into your seat without saying hello to him, Heeseung knew something was up. The boy had gotten much too used to your greetings every day.

Barely able to contain your irritation with him, you stared straight ahead at your screen and got to work, despite feeling his eyes on you.

Beside you, Heeseung was desperately trying to read your stoic expression. He’d glance at you meekly, and look back at his computer for a few seconds, only to peer over at you again.

This cycle went on for the next few minutes until you heard him greet you first, for once.

“Hey, ___–”

“Hey,” You barely spared him a look and settled back into your workflow just as swiftly.

Stumped by your odd behavior, Heeseung drew his hands into his lap and fell quiet once more.

Just when you thought he’d leave you be, Heeseung pulled up to your side in his rolling chair, that signature lavender scent of his invading your senses. His knee bumped into yours but stayed there.

“Do you need my help with anything?”

“No, thank you,” you replied coldly.

You saw him wilt out of the corner of your eye, and something vengeful in you felt good about making him feel the way you’ve felt for the past months. The other part of you just felt plain guilty.

Feeling suffocated, you abruptly left the class to get some fresh air. You were hoping the open-air foyer filled with wooden benches would grant you a moment of reprieve.

Choosing the farthest bench from the entrance, you sat down and propped up your legs, pulling your knees close to your chin. The evening breeze swept across your flushed cheeks, and you were mortified to realize tears were threatening to spill down them.

It was childish of you to reject Heeseung’s attention once you finally got it, but… you couldn’t help it. You knew the attention wasn’t due to any sort of genuine feelings toward you; it was merely your petty behavior that provoked him.

Was this how it felt to be rejected while trying so hard to befriend someone? Is this how people felt when you made them jump through a hundred hoops to get to know you?

You thought back to when you took the chance to let someone in for the first and last time. Had you just been too much? Or maybe not worth the trouble?

If that were true… maybe that was the reason your first love had cheated on you.

Old feelings bubbled up in your chest, and suddenly everything really felt like shit.

To make things worse, you were sulking. Even though Heeseung could tell something was up and was trying to diagnose the situation, he still infuriated you. If anyone had to deal with an aloof individual for as long as you did, you were sure they’d go crazy too.

Especially if they were as cute as Heeseung was.

Fuck.

There was no way you were about to cry in public over a boy, the most angelic, frustrating boy you’ve ever met.

Not everybody reciprocated people’s feelings equally, and it was simply life to deal with it. Still…

Once you buried your face into your arms, you released your pent-up emotions with a shaky breath, letting the hot tears fall and soak into your jeans. You decided to stay there for a while, long enough until you knew everyone in class would be gone, so you could rest assured no one would see your pathetic tear-stained face.

It was a good half hour after class ended before you made your way back to collect your belongings and catch the bus to head home. Somehow, you cried for the majority of it as quietly as you could.

It actually helped a bit, as it had back then.

When you pulled open the door, you froze like a deer in headlights.

Heeseung stared up at you with wide eyes from where he was sitting; he was the only one left in the class, which you hadn’t counted on.

He wasn’t waiting for you, was he?

“Um…” You trailed off and slowly turned to leave again, but he was already out of his seat, making his way toward you.

Jesus—

You were hardly ever standing next to each other, so facing him head-on at his tall stature was intimidating, even with his cardigan and those nerdy glasses of his. Perhaps it also had to do with the unfamiliar look in his eyes and the intense concern in them.

“Are you okay?” He reached out to touch your arm, but you stepped back and caught him by the shoulders, holding him back at arm's length.

Unable to look at him directly, you stared down at your shoes next to his, eyes stinging again as if you didn’t just spend half an hour crying.

Just seeing his face and hearing his voice brought on a flood of confusing emotions.

“Yeah? I-I’m fine,” You insisted.

Even though Heeseung couldn’t see your face, he saw your tears fall onto your sneakers and felt your grip curl into his shoulders.

“___, if it’s something I said or did…” Heeseung’s voice went soft, and you nearly jumped when you felt his hands slide over yours, his thumbs stroking comfortingly over your skin, “You can tell me.”

His mere touch slowly brought your anxiety down, one stroke of his thumb after the other— at the same time, it sent shivers along your skin.

It’s what you didn’t say or do.

Fear threatened to cut your voice off completely. You took several deep breaths, trying to sort out your thoughts so that you could properly convey how you were feeling.

Here was your chance to be honest with him from the get-go. It was scary, but you needed to try.

“I consider you as someone who I’m really grateful for, Heeseung. Especially after how much of your time you’ve given me this semester,” You sighed, glancing up at him even though your vision was blurry, “You’re a really talented guy. It’s just impossible to get to know you because you like to keep to yourself. I think I understand why you do. Even I don’t like letting other people in all the time...”

Something seemed to click in his mind at your words; you saw his lips part ever so slightly in realization, his eyes widening a fraction.

“... But it’s still hard to be on the receiving end of that. However, if that’s where you want me,” You pulled your hands out of his, letting them drop to your side, “Then there’s not much I can do about that.”

Quietly, you brushed past him and packed your backpack in a hurry to leave.

Heeseung fell silent behind you, and when you left him, you kept your eyes trained on the floor.

The next day, you remained in a foul mood as you chose to sit on the opposite side of your table to avoid the tension of being next to Heeseung for two hours straight. As you expected, the student who usually sat there confronted you about it.

“Hey, this is my seat. I’ve been sitting here all semester.”

You didn’t care to grant her your full attention and continued typing, “I don’t see your name on it.”

It was definitely a shitty thing to say, but you couldn’t bring yourself to give a damn at that moment.

She was stunned into silence and subsequently stomped over to the next row to take her seat next to Heeseung. There was no doubt that he overheard your confrontation.

Class sped by while you were laser-focused on completing everything you needed to get done for that period— without Heeseung’s help. At least one good thing came out of taking notes and watching Heeseung work these past several weeks; your evolving skill set. You were far from excellent, but you had gotten at least a bit better with the basics.

This time, you didn’t plan on sticking around after class.

It seemed like Heeseung was prepared for you not to because the moment you stood up and bolted to the door, he was already out of his seat, hot on your trail.

Heeseung called out your name.

You ignored him, even as he easily caught up with your pace. His silence yesterday already confirmed all you needed to know about how he felt about you.

He caught your elbow, and you stopped to look him dead in the eye. “What do you think you’re doing? Let go.”

Heeseung immediately released you, “Sorry, I just wanted to talk—“

A menacing force slammed into your back, propelling you straight into Heeseung’s chest. Someone halfway down the hall called out a sarcastic apology, but it barely registered— you were startled by how Heeseung steadied you against his hard body.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You scowled, already shaking his hands off despite your body aching at the feeling of him so near, “What did you want now?”

Heeseung‘s eyes wavered, but he managed to hold your scrutinizing gaze.

“Do you want to grab dinner?”

He really felt the pressure of an impending ‘no’ when all you did was stare at him.

You frowned, “What?”

Heeseung gulped but continued, “You don’t have any other classes for the day, right? There’s a really good Thai place just on the edge of campus, and their Pad Thai is the best— at least within a 20-mile radius.”

Was he doing this all of a sudden because he pitied you?

“You don’t need to do this.”

Heeseung looked like he was on the verge of panicking, but just as quickly, a sense of determination overcame him.

He took a step forward, “But what if I want to?”

You looked off to the side, “I’m confused. Why all of a sudden?”

“I know it’s like I’m doing this out of the blue,” He sounded in a rush due to nerves, so he slowed down his speech, “I’m not good with words, and it’s true that I’m easily distracted by my classes. But I do care about you, ___.”

Your chest throbbed as he peered down at you from under his lashes with furrowed brows, “I know I’m usually pretty distant, and I can’t make up for everything in a night, but I really would like to talk with you over dinner… only if you want to join me.”

Heeseung’s expression appeared so hopeful, and his gaze held an amount of tenderness that had you shifting your weight under the unusual attention you were receiving.

What was that look he was giving you?

He felt you brush by him, and he hung his head.

Heeseung felt his stomach twist with guilt, he knew you wouldn’t give him a chance after how he’d been treating you—

“… Fine.”

Heeseung straightened up with wide eyes and turned to face you as you set off in the completely wrong direction.

“It’s this way,” He eagerly called after you.

You came to a quick halt, then turned back around, crossing your arms, “Lead the way then.”

He smiled to himself when he heard the unmistakable sound of your stomach grumbling ever so faintly.

Walking across campus with Heeseung was convenient because the majority of people made plenty of room for the two of you, all thanks to the giant by your side. Usually, they’d have no issue bumping shoulders with you or overlooking you.

Must be nice to be able to part seas of people, you thought enviously.

Heeseung remained quiet for the majority of the walk except for mentioning a direction here and there. All the while, you were trying to anticipate what Heeseung might have to say to you once you got to the restaurant.

The sky grew to be a deep orange by the time you entered the quaint Thai restaurant at the front of the campus. A simple aqua blue neon sign that read 01 Thai shone across asphalt above an old, cream colored building. While you considered their signature menu options, you turned Heeseung’s words over in your head.

“I do care about you, ___.”

Do you really?

“And what would you like to order?” The cashier asked you.

“Oh. I guess I’ll try the Pad Thai.”

“Anything to drink?”

“Just water, please,” You absentmindedly dug in your pocket to hand over your card, but Heeseung was already handing over his.

Your brows drew together as you quietly glanced up at him, not wanting to make a scene.

He gave you a nervous smile, “My treat.”

You looked over your shoulder for seating, “I’ll Venmo you later.”

“No need,” He shook his head, guiding you to a corner table.

“I will.”

Even from across the small wooden table, Heeseung sensed your lingering discomfort, understandably. He looked like he wanted to say something, but so did you, so he waited.

After a contemplative moment, you met his eyes and folded your hands on the table. “Heeseung, don’t tell me you're doing all this just because you feel bad.”

“No— I mean, in a way, yes. I know how I can be, and I’m sorry that you had to deal with that. I never meant to hurt you the way I did.”

I really did emotionally throw up on him yesterday, and his silence didn’t make it any better. Even now, I still feel high-strung about the whole ordeal, but he seems sorry about it…

“Listen, I get that you feel guilty, but if you really do just want to be friends, there’s no need for anything crazy. Just talking would be nice to start.”

“Right...” He stared right at you.

Your brows knit together once more at the uncertainty in his voice.

“Right,” Heeseung repeated, almost to himself, “That’s doable. Although guilt plays a significant part in driving me to do what I’m doing… Please know it’s not my only motivator.”

Heeseung startled you when he reached out to take one of your hands in his. You still looked utterly confused, so he exhaled softly before squeezing your hand and running the pad of his thumb along your knuckles, just like he did back in class.

Goosebumps immediately broke out on your skin from the heat of his touch.

Oh.

Behind his glasses, his eyes were intent; you had his full attention. “I’ve been really out of touch with people these days, and I regret it. However, I had some personal things I was working through. It’s not an excuse, but I do care about you, ___. I hope you can eventually find a way to forgive me.”

At his sudden admittance, your heart rate began to pick up. Immediately you hated how vulnerable his words made you feel, but that also meant that they were real. His forwardness rendered you genuinely speechless; even your mind drew a blank.

It seemed like he could sense it.

“I-I see,” You stared at your daintier hand in his own, then looked back up at Heeseung’s keen gaze.

His brows drew together, and his lips curled upwards ever so slightly, “Am I making you nervous?” He sounded like he was making a discovery.

Heat immediately flooded your face once more, and you took your hand back out of embarrassment.

He gnawed on his lip, his eyelids lowering a fraction, “Sorry.”

A waitress pulled up to your table with a tray of steaming bowls, and Heeseung thanked the waitress as she left while you reached for a pair of chopsticks.

“What kind of question is that?” You mumbled while you picked at your noodles. Your brain was failing to make sense of Heeseung’s feelings towards you.

He didn’t let up.

“You make me really nervous, ___,” Heeseung dared to reveal in a low voice.

As he expected, his declaration drew your attention back to him. Your eyes narrowed at Heeseung, who wore a small yet knowing smile, clearly trying to get a rise out of you.

Is this really the same guy who chased me down to grab dinner with him?

Little did you know the boy sitting across from you was attuned to your every movement— from the quickened pace of your breath to the twitch of your leg when his knee brushed against yours underneath the table.

Naturally, he would be after spending so much time at your side for the past couple of months, taking note of your little habits and mannerisms.

He also knew you’d be skeptical for a while after this, that it would take time to prove his sincerity once more. Heeseung was willing to overcome that by any means.

When Heeseung realized he had stunned you into silence, he finally looked down at his own plate. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop teasing. Let’s eat before it gets cold.”

“Agreed,” You were grateful for the change of subject because you just barely survived his sudden undivided attention. Also, you were beyond famished.

All the while, your mouth was watering at the sight of the food, so you took a bite of the Pad Thai and savored the flavorful spices on your tongue. It was pretty damn good, Heeseung had taste. One bite of noodles, and suddenly, you felt as though you were gaining back your senses.

He’s kind of flirty, isn’t he?

After several more bites and a nice gulp of cold water, you felt ready to hold a proper conversation.

“Don’t bullshit me anymore, Heeseung,” You commented, propping your chin up on your palm.

He chuckled softly, and you squinted his way.

“I’ll try my best, ___.”

Over dinner, Heeseung allowed you to delve into his mind, which was certainly a treat.

Not without difficulty, of course.

His answers remained vague unless you pressed further; it was like pulling teeth, but you could tell he was trying. With enough persistence, he divulged you.

“Do you just really like to keep a low profile?” You asked, referencing his deflection of your attempts at conversing with him during class, “I mean, I figured you just found me annoying.”

Heeseung slowly began, “I wasn’t in the best headspace this semester. Things at my old job weren’t going well at all, and those issues combined with the stress of my classes resulted in me feeling very closed off from my surroundings.”

You scratched your cheek. “I see. How does that usually affect you?”

“I tend to isolate myself under pressure, and it becomes difficult for me to connect with… well, those around me,” Heeseung explained, running his fingers back and forth over the grain of the tabletop.

“Hm, that’s tough. Honestly, you always seem like you have your shit together.”

Heeseung shook his head, “It’s… a facade of sorts.”

“Well, a lot of people have one,” Your eyes wandered down to your plate, it had been scraped clean for a while.

The shop was empty save for you two, it must’ve been growing closer to closing time, what with the moonlight shining through the windows.

“Yeah? What’s yours?”

Ah, now it’s his turn to take a shot at me.

Being vulnerable was difficult, especially with all of Heeseung’s attention on you. Silence fell over you two, but he waited, even when it felt like you weren’t going to speak.

“Probably enjoying being alone. Not that I don’t, but it depends on how I’m feeling that day. I see independence and loneliness as two sides of the same coin.”

It was the truth, to an extent. You enjoyed the benefits of being independent, but there was a fine line between that and being lonely.

“It’s a normal human thing to go through,” You shrugged.

It’s how I’ve always been, and it usually keeps me safe. But I can’t believe I just admitted that to another person, let alone Heeseung. Though that’s the whole point of this conversation, isn’t it?

“Um, anyways…“

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel lonely.”

Your eyes flitted to Heeseung’s expression; he seemed cautious yet sincere.

“Don’t be. It’s not your responsibility to make me feel otherwise.”

It was a difficult realization to come to, and as such, you gave a detached response. In due time you’d have to see if he meant everything that he said.

With an inward sigh, you felt disappointment replace the anger that had been slowly filtering out of your system for the past hour. Heeseung was willing to try to be friends, which was more than you could’ve asked for, so deep down, you fought your desire for him. You were being given the chance to take things day by day and come to terms with the reality of your situation.

“Besides, being lonely is a good skill to have. It’s weird to say out loud, but I really think it is,” You stated, glancing out the window into the dimly lit streets, “It’s useful and easier than most people think.”

When Heeseung said nothing in response, you turned to look at him once more, wanting to hear his voice.

Something from him, anything.

Instead, you met those dark brown eyes behind his glasses; they contained a mix of something you couldn’t place and a tinge of sadness, but most surprisingly– knowing.

You fidgeted with the hairband on your wrist. “What? What’s wrong?”

Heeseung spoke, “Nothing… What do you mean?”

His question seemed hollow as if he feigned confusion; his eyes told you everything yet nothing, all at once– like he could see right through you.

You shook your head, voice coming out as a whisper, “I don’t know… You’re making me nervous again.”

“Sorry,” Heeseung blinked and shifted his eyes elsewhere, and suddenly you felt like you could breathe, but just barely.

He distractedly removed his glasses to pinch at his nose bridge, and that’s when your breath caught in your chest.

A slight smile tugged at your lips, “Hey, you look different without your glasses.” You were apt to change the subject.

“Oh, really?” Heeseung moved to adjust them back in place quickly.

“Wait,” you leaned over the table and placed your hand on his to stop him, wanting a better look, “You look really handsome. Not that you don’t with them on, but….”

Heeseung noted how intrigued you looked, the fascination brightening your features. It was certainly a contrast to the way you regarded him just a moment before. “I’ve worn glasses my whole life. I don’t look odd without them?”

“No, but I think you’re cute either way—“ You curiously brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes, and his brows rose in surprise.

Upon realizing what you had done, you promptly sat back in your seat and stuffed your hands in your pockets.

“I— You just look different,” You tried to cover up your embarrassment with a smile.

You hadn’t intended on getting touchy, but you just couldn't help it. Then again, he comfortably initiated way more physical contact with you today than he had all semester.

Heeseung quietly glanced off to the side, and then his eyes were back on you without a moment’s notice, observing.

Ah, there’s that churning sensation in my stomach again.

Even though you could see his eyes clear as day, you couldn’t read him as easily this time.

“Thanks,” His eyes flitted away as he fixed his glasses back in place.

Uh-oh. Did I mess up? Did I turn him off by touching his hair? Or with my comments on his appearance?

“We better go, I think they’re closing,” You rubbed your cheek while throwing your backpack over your shoulder, “Thank you for dinner.”

“Sure. Thanks for hearing me out… and for sharing,” Heeseung led you to the door and held it open for you.

His voice sounded odd, almost tight.

“Yeah...”

It had been a rollercoaster of a day so far; you weren’t sure what kind of note you were going to end it on.

The brisk night air hit your skin and made you shudder. You turned towards the bus stop across the street, anticipating an arrival soon, “I’m headed over here. I guess I’ll see you in class?”

When you glanced back over your shoulder, Heeseung was looking after you in such a way that caused you to freeze. His demeanor had shifted from the start of dinner to now like there was a barely tamed intensity about him. He felt unpredictable— he even seemed on edge.

What was going on? Maybe you really stepped on his toes earlier with your comment about his glasses. It certainly wasn’t your intention; you meant it as a compliment.

He could’ve been self-conscious about it, you idiot!

Heeseung gave you a curt nod, “Get home safely, okay?”

You frowned.

“Okay…” You paused before giving him a quick hug.

Next to free food and a bit of communication, hugs diffused most escalating situations, right?

But even to you, it felt like a blur; you barely gave him enough time to return it, and then you were slipping out of his grasp just as quickly as you had drawn close.

“Bye,” You whispered.

Taken aback, Heeseung dropped his arms to his sides as he watched you jog across the street to board the bus that arrived a moment before and nearly took off without you.

He inhaled deeply.

Now, his whole body ached.

Oh, he hated you even more for that.

The cold suddenly seeped into his skin. It hadn’t affected him until you left his side.

Your bus took off just as his phone faintly vibrated in his pocket. He lost count of how many times it had gone off during his dinner with you, but he hardly paid it any attention. He ignored it for the past two months but couldn’t bring himself to block the number.

Finally, he decided to answer it.

“Heeseung! Do you know how many times I’ve called you today? And the day before? Over the past eight fucking weeks? We were supposed to meet–”

“I was at dinner—” Heeseung immediately kicked himself for even sparing an excuse. There was no need to anymore. “Please stop calling me.”

His thumb hovered over the button to hang up and block her number; he should’ve done it earlier.

“Don’t do this to me, love.”

Anger slithered up his veins, “How else do you expect me to act after all that you’ve done?”

“What you saw wasn’t what it looked like—“

Beep—

That’s what she’d said in the hundreds of voicemails she left, or so he guessed. Listening to one was sufficient.

From that day on, Heeseung dialed back on the forwardness he displayed in terms of physical contact with you, and you couldn’t figure out why for the life of you. However, your conversations in class were plentiful and on friendlier terms, save for the interesting underlying tension that persisted through his frequent teasing comments and lasting stares.

That’s not to say there was a complete absence of flirtatious touching, he simply wasn’t as outright with it. But you noted each subtle instance with amusement whether it was a tap on the shoulder, a bump to the knee or an accidental brush of hands when he’d reach for your mouse.

He seemed somewhat back to normal compared to how you left him that one night, but something definitely changed between you two.

On the other hand, you soon discovered the breadth of his sense of humor. The off-handed, dry comments he’d whisper about some odd gesture or explanation the professor would make had you snorting in your seat— turns out you weren’t the only one who occasionally got annoyed with the way your professor taught.

Even so, together, you both managed.

Thai food after class became a routine for you both, a couple of times a week. Ever since Heeseung made an effort to open up, sometimes you’d talk up until the last bus was available for you to catch if he didn’t have work, and other times, you’d work on assignments together.

For every question you asked him, it tickled you that he had one for you of equal measure. These brief moments with Heeseung stood out from your otherwise mundane campus life. Unfortunately, things didn’t always go according to plan.

One evening, a meeting with your advisor concerning your schedule for next semester ran over time significantly and you were 30 minutes late to your dinner at 01 Thai with Heeseung.

The frigid air lashed across your face the moment you stepped outside the administration building causing you to wince. It was an evening filled with storm clouds, and the sun had long set; it was starting to get darker earlier in the day. You reached into your pocket to update Heeseung on your whereabouts but let out a frustrated grunt when you realized your phone had died on you.

Fuck.

The restaurant was on the complete other side of campus so you decided to cut through a back way that was a bit more obscure but quicker than usual. The first droplets of rain hit your skin before it turned into an outright downpour by the time you were half way across campus.

Just my luck.

There weren’t a whole lot of shaded areas along the buildings in the back route you took so you braced yourself through the chill until the droplets began to feel like ice pellets. It was too much so you chose to take shelter when you came upon the first shaded area that came into view near the back exit of a building.

Something on the floor caught your eye as you quickly approached. A dog with soaked fur was curled up on its stomach and appeared to be breathing irregularly. On instinct, you kneeled down to run your hand over its fur, and it let out a thin whine.

“Oh, you poor thing. Where’s your owner?”

You felt along its furry chin for a tag and found purchase in a sleek, black collar. However, there was no tag with an owner's contact to be found.

Maybe it’s a high-tech tracking collar?

With your back against the wall, you slid down to sit for a moment, enduring the mist that the wind blew against you both, cradling the dog close. “I don’t think the rain will let up any time soon… You don’t wanna come with? You just wanna stay here and wait for your owner, huh?”

The dog merely blinked up at you.

“Alright, then you need this more than I do. Hopefully they’re just around the corner…”

You shrugged off your jacket and used it to dry off the pup a bit before swaddling it in the fabric. After you finished and went to scratch its chin, it licked your palm non-stop.

“You’re welcome,” You stood up with a giggle and readjusted your backpack. Although it was storming, if you let Heeseung wait any longer it would give him the wrong idea.

You received stares from other students the moment you stepped through the restaurant doors since the single layer of your T-shirt was soaked through. Immediately you crossed your arms over your chest but made a beeline towards Heeseung who sat in the corner.

He looked you over with concern.

You couldn’t help but stutter from the cold, “S-sorry. My meeting ran late with my advisor and my phone died—“

“It’s okay, I figured. Weren’t you wearing a jacket in class earlier?”

“I—I may have given it away…”

“To who?”

“To a dog I saw on the way here…?”

You realized how ridiculous it sounded once you said it out loud, but the soft spot you had towards canines made you do silly things from time to time.

Heeseung raised a brow at that, “Did you just lose it?”

“Sure, I lost it on this awfully cold day, ” You rolled your eyes.

Heeseung shook his head with a snort, and tugged his hoodie over his head, “Well, why don’t you change out of that?”

A chill racked through your body but you brushed it off, until you glanced down to see your shirt plastered to your body and around the prominent outline of your black bra.

“Um….”

“Here,” Heeseung deposited his hoodie into your arms before you could refuse, “I’ll ask them for a plastic bag to hold your clothing. Your food just came out, so go change.”

“Thanks.”

As you ignored the stares from others occupying the restaurant and clicked the restroom door shut, you gave yourself a once over in the mirror.

There really wasn’t a spot on you that wasn’t damp. You stripped out of your top and bra then proceeded to squeeze them out over the sink before tossing them into a plastic bag. You dried down as much as you could with a wad of paper towels then tugged Heeseung’s hoodie over your head.

Immediately, you were enveloped by his scent; a light sweetness with new undertones of soft musk you hadn’t detected before. The fabric was still warm against your skin with his body heat which made you feel odd.

You slowly tugged the collar up to your nose then dropped the fabric abruptly.

Let’s not make this weird. It certainly beats being cold and wet.

Heeseung eyed you once you remerged. “I ate already and was about to go looking for you to drop off your food.”

You plopped down across from him. “Yeah, sorry. Do you have to go soon?”

He glanced at his phone screen. “In about 10 minutes, for work. I’ll hang out for a while, though.”

“You don’t wanna work on an assignment while I eat?”

Heeseung pressed his cheek against his palm and leaned onto his elbow, his languid eyes on you, “Mm-mm.”

You stared at him before proceeding to shovel the tasty noodles into your mouth, “Okay.”

Heeseung chuckled, “How’d your meeting go?”

“Fine, I guess. My advisor thought he screwed up and almost made me think I had to take an extra two classes, but we straightened that out. I’m on track, and I’ll have a decent load to finish off next semester since it’s my last.”

Heeseung looked like he was in thought as you shared your schedule with him.

“None of those classes ring a bell.”

That fact bummed you out, more than you’d ever show. “Oh, really? What’s your semester looking like next year?”

“Hm, since it’s my last semester too, I’m thinking of going for an internship, it’s about time.”

You dabbed at your lips with a napkin, “That’s actually really good. I need to do that…”

“It’ll help when you apply for jobs, for sure.”

The impending doom of your future weighed heavily on your shoulders, and Heeseung seemed to notice you suddenly felt burdened.

“So, you like dogs?”

You glanced up mid-chew, “I do!”

“Did you really give a dog your jacket?” Heeseung squinted.

“Would you believe me if I said yes?”

“Maybe the second time around,” He was amused at how you pouted, “What breeds do you like?”

“I like all breeds. The funniest dogs are ones that are like humans. During last thanksgiving there was this one dog at my aunt’s that wouldn’t let me pet him at first. So, I let him be and sat in the living room alone, but every so often he would saunter in and get closer to me every time,” You laughed at the memory, “Then eventually he got so close, I just stuck my hand out and he pressed up against me for pets. Finicky but adorable…”

Heeseung cleared his throat, and wore a sheepish expression, “Sounds like it… You don’t own any dogs?”

“Not yet. I’m saving up and waiting ‘till I’m done with school. I want to be able to give it the attention it deserves.”

“I think that’s smart.”

You sighed, “Yeah… I wish I had one.”

As you finished your food, Heeseung finally said what was truly on his mind.

“You should be more careful about walking around campus without a working phone. It gets dark faster these days,” He began.

His scolding caught you off guard.

“I am cautious, I’m not dumb,” You interrupted, “And I didn’t mean to. I would’ve charged it in the library or something but I didn’t want to keep you waiting—“

“It would’ve been fine if you left me waiting a little longer to do that. It’s such a big campus where anything could happen when you least expect it, so you should always have your phone on,” Heeseung motioned for you to hand over your phone, “And I know you know that.”

You pouted but dropped it into his hand, and he connected it to a portable charger he took out of his backpack, “Alright, mother.”

Heeseung sighed but gave you a small smile anyways.

“Are you still at your old job or did you start your new one already?” You asked since Heeseung felt at liberty to say what he wanted.

Heeseung’s eyes turned troubled. “Still there. Just for a little while longer.”

You pressed, “Where do you work?”

Heeseung’s lips parted to answer but he seemed to think better of it.

“It’s not the greatest place,” Heeseung checked his phone and stood up, “Sorry, I’ve gotta go. See you.”

You bit your tongue. “Won’t you get all wet if you’re walking to work?”

��Uber,” was all he said with a tight smile, “Don’t worry about it. Get home safe.”

Heeseung left you his charger as he stepped outside into the rain, the deep slope of his shoulders inciting a sense of regret in you. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pushed him on the topic when it was clearly sensitive for him. He didn’t deserve your snappy attitude after he expressed his worry for you either… but you knew he wouldn’t hold you to it because that’s the kind of person he was.

When you weren’t grabbing dinner with Heeseung, there were evenings when you would pour over your studies and meet Rin in the library, like you always had.

“So, how are your otome games going? On to the next one?” She questioned.

Oh shit. You’ve been neglecting your pixel husbands basically since the start of the semester—

“I actually haven’t touched any games in a while.”

“Really now?” Rin seemed unsurprised at such a revelation as she continued, “How about that coding class? These days you seem less stressed about it….”

“Yeah, I finally picked up a thing or two. There’s actually this guy who’s been—“

Rin jumped out of her seat and pointed at you accusingly, the screech of her chair drawing annoyed looks from other students.

“I’ve been fucking waiting for you to bring him up!”

Your eyes widened, “Wait, how do you—”

“Shhhh!” Someone hushed.

You both put your heads together and dropped your voices to a whisper.

“How do you know Heeseung?”

Rin explained everything in detail, perhaps too much detail. Figuring out Heeseung consulted her the day you cried in front of him made your face burn.

Apparently, he hung out enough in the library to recognize Rin as your friend, although you certainly had never seen him while studying.

“Truthfully, at first, I was mad at the guy for upsetting you; the dude was too honest for his own good and actually told me he was in deep shit with you. I nearly caused a scene in here, but he seemed really apologetic and genuine about wanting to make things right with you.

So, I told him food was the way to your heart, but I warned him you’d be a little stuck up about paying for yourself. Seriously, you have the weirdest eating schedule just to achieve ‘optimal efficiency’ and avoid ‘brain fog’ or whatever,” Rin grinned.

Well, she wasn’t wrong. Free food definitely helped on top of everything else Heeseung managed to pull off since then.

“I appreciate that, but I can’t believe you knew about everything the entire time,” You felt a tad guilty for not looping her in on the situation, having thought she would’ve teased you about it, “And that he actually went out of his way to ask you about me….”

You couldn’t help but look at him a little differently now. He was serious.

“Well, I only knew what happened up until that day, but you seemed better these past several weeks, so it looks like my advice worked.”

You slid further into your seat and stared up at the ceiling, “Yeah, I suppose it did.”

“I didn’t want to ruin anything, so I stayed quiet. He’s very cute,” She grinned at you.

You paused, “We’re just friends.”

“What? All that drama for a friendship?”

“Hm…”

Rin rose an impeccably plucked brow at you.

“Yes,” You sighed, patting her head.

Your friend pouted, “I would’ve guessed otherwise, girl. There’s still time, though.”

Was there?

Soon enough, another month had flown by— finals were around the corner, and both you and Heeseung were typing up code for your class project when you ran into your first distressing issue in a while.

You called to him without taking your eyes off the screen, “Hey, something’s off, and I can’t figure out what. I swear if it’s just an extra period somewhere, I’m gonna—“

Heeseung was at your side in a heartbeat, “Let me see.”

You scooted your chair over to make room for his, but he got comfortable on the floor. “Stop kneeling. You know you’re gonna permanently fuck up your kneecaps, right?”

“I’m used to it,” He said simply before he froze up as if he had said something wrong.

Assuming that he was poking at you, you scoffed, “I don’t ask you for help that often anymore, Hee.”

Heeseung cleared his throat and got to work on your code, “No, I know.”

While you waited for him to finish diagnosing the issue, you secretly inhaled his familiar, comforting scent of sweet lavender out of habit.

You saw him smirk out of the corner of your eye.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Seriously, what?”

He shrugged, “You’re doing that thing you do every time I get close.”

Fuck. When did he even– Fuck—

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The tapping of keys halted.

A mischievous lilt made its way into his voice as he faced you, “We’re gonna go that route?”

“Yes. Yes, we are because you are not going to out me here,” You hissed under your breath.

“Ha, so you admit that you do take a whiff—“

You took hold of his jaw and forced him to face your computer screen, “Focus.”

Heeseung eyes darkened, but he let out a chuckle.

You were pressing two fingers to your temple and looking anywhere but at him, so you failed to notice. For the moment, you put aside your pride and stayed quiet until he figured out what the hell was wrong with your project.

God, how embarrassing.

A few keyboard and mouse clicks later, and Heeseung was settling back into his seat. “It was an extra period on line 976.”

“Of course it was,” You rolled your eyes and heard him laugh even harder. He was quick to figure out how often he could test your patience…

“Why do you always smell like pastries?” Your sudden question came out as an accusation.

At this point in your friendship, you found yourself blurting out random things that were on your mind when with Heeseung, and he managed to learn how to go with the flow.

“I bake in my spare time,” He said, clearly amused.

You gawked at the new discovery, “I—I guess that explains it….”

“I’ve always baked, it’s sort of just a hobby I never thought to share.”

You swore there was always something to learn about the guy, even at the quick rate that you’d gotten to know him.

“Well, what do you do with all the stuff you make? Keep them all for yourself?” You jabbed at Heeseung.

“No, I just…” His voice quietly tapered off, so you were unable to catch his last words.

“You what?”

“I’ll just give it away to the homeless on the street if I deem it edible,” He muttered.

“Huh,” You turned to Heeseung, “That’s actually really sweet.”

“It’s nothing,” He pressed his lips together and continued, “By the way, I just started my new job, and my shift is in the evening, so… we’re going to have to postpone Thai nights.”

“Oh. You started your new job finally?” Your heart and stomach dropped; you were so looking forward to it before you’d have to really buckle down for finals, “I guess we’ll have to postpone them. The timing, though….”

Postpone them until when? The two of you had completely different tracks from here on out. Would he even want to hang out with you next semester when there was nothing else to bind your schedules together?

Heeseung leaned over to rest his elbows on his knees, appearing contemplative while watching you cycle through the endless thoughts in your mind.

“I work at this new cafe about ten minutes away from campus. Do you want to drop by and check it out after class? If you want, you could study there until I get off, and then we can have dinner at my place.”

Dinner at his place?

He saw the way your eyes blew up, and he couldn’t tell if it was in shock or excitement.

“Don’t feel pressured, it was just a thought,” Heeseung brushed off a piece of lint on your knee, his touch lingering, “I get off at around 10:00, so it’d be a later-than-usual dinner.”

“S-sure,” Your voice pitched unusually high, and you nearly threw up in your mouth.

Geez, calm down!

Heeseung looked pleased as he stood up from his desk and slung his backpack over his shoulder, “Shall we?”

The moment you stepped foot in the new cafe, your body appreciated the drastic change in temperature inside, the weather was extremely chilly these days. Didn’t change the fact that you’d order something iced, though.

“Take a look at the menu, I need to get changed, and I’ll be right out to make you something to drink,” Heeseung ushered you further into the store, his hand at your lower back.

“No problem,” You held Heeseung’s warm gaze and forgot to breathe.

As Heeseung set off to the back, you exhaled and took in the bright, cozy interior of the cafe along with its high ceilings. Evening light filtered through the tall windows, casting the whole place in warmth.

What a nice cafe to work at. I could study here more often too.

The aroma of ground coffee beans and sweet pastries filled your nose, causing your brain to perk up at the thought of caffeine even though it was evening. The people that occupied the space were relatively quiet– the seats were mainly filled with a few students and young professionals.

An empty table was waiting for you in the corner, so you set down your belongings there and pulled out your wallet. Curious about their menu, you returned to the counter to consider the items.

A handsome, light-haired young man eagerly approached from behind the bar upon seeing you, “Hi there! What can I get for you?”

Your brain raced for an answer even though you were supposed to wait for Heeseung. “Um, I’ll try the iced matcha latte….”

“Perfect,” He gave you a thousand-watt smile, “Anything else I can get you? We have macarons that we bake daily.”

“Sure,” You considered the colorful rows of macarons behind the glass counter, “I’ll try a lavender one and a vanilla bean.”

As the boy picked out your macarons, you imagined how Heeseung might look like working his shift here, from his mannerisms to his barista skills and if he dealt with customers easily or not. It was something you’d never thought of previously since you had no clue about his work.

“I threw in a couple of other popular flavors on the house,” the boy gave you a wink, making you blush unexpectedly.

“Oh, thank you so much!”

The barista took a step to his right without taking his eyes off you and bumped right into Heeseung, who suddenly appeared. You noticed he looked especially cute in his work uniform, somehow fitting your exact image of how a barista would look in his white button-down and his chestnut-colored apron. A smile made its way onto your face; his glasses completed the coffee connoisseur look.

“Sorry, man—“

“Hey, no worries. I’ll ring her up,” Your eyes widened at the slight insistence in Heeseung’s voice that left no room for argument, “Jake, meet ___.”

“Hey,” Jake gave you a little wave, despite looking a bit confused at why Heeseung intercepted.

“___, this is my friend Jake. He also goes to our University,” He mentioned while tinkering with the cash register.

You took out your card and gave Jake a shy smile, “Oh, nice. Great to meet you.”

He winked at you, “Likewise.”

Apparently, only hot people work here, you surmised.

You thought you saw Heeseung pout at the exchange between you and Jake, but whether or not he actually did, he ignored your card and handed over your bag of macarons, swiftly stepping away to prepare your drink.

“Wait, I need to pay—“

“I’ve got you. It’ll just be a few minutes,” he called over his shoulder and got to work.

Your cheeks grew warm.

Why did he have to act so sweet sometimes?

“I mean, I knew you had a girlfriend, but you should’ve told me she was dropping by,” Jake chuckled as he pulled up by Heeseung’s side.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“She’s not?” Jake questioned.

“But I’m interested in her,” Heeseung clarified while frothing your matcha latte a bit too aggressively.

“Aw,” Jake moped, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, “That’s too bad, she’s kinda….”

When it went silent, Jake playfully glanced over at Heeseung, who was staring him down. He slapped him on the back, “Only messing with you, dude.”

“Right.”

Just as you finished unpacking and settling in at the corner table, Heeseung approached with your matcha latte in hand and set it down in front of you.

“That was quick,” You felt giddy getting the special treatment.

“Give it a try, and let me know if it needs anything.”

You stirred the pretty green liquid with the straw and took a sip, glancing up at Heeseung as you did so. Heeseung bit his lip and tilted his head expectantly.

“It’s perfect.”

“Good, just let me know if you need anything,” He smiled, but before he could leave, you caught his sleeve.

“Wait, have a macaron before you go. Jake gave me a lot,” You randomly chose the dusty pink one that smelled like roses and held it up for him to take.

Instead, he drew close, placing his hand on the back of your chair to steady himself, parted his lips, and waited. You glanced up at him to check if he was joking, but the glimmer in his eye said otherwise.

Woah—

Brain on autopilot, you fed it to him, and he took a bite out of the fresh macaron.

He licked at his lips and smirked at you, “Thanks.”

After he disappeared behind the counter, you dropped your forehead into your hand, flabbergasted. You just knew your face was so red.

This crazy ass—

What, did he expect you to finish the remainder of the macaron?

This was too much for you to handle– Heeseung was too much for you to handle today.

And, of course, you finished it.

Two hours flew by at your table while you were jamming to some nostalgic tunes in your own little world while studying for your upcoming finals.

Feeling the urge to stretch, you took off your headphones and extended your stiff limbs with a wince.

Condensation ran down your empty glass of matcha, and you had finished nibbling on your macarons earlier. Besides the lavender and vanilla flavors you had chosen, the rose one was pretty aromatic, and the other strawberries and cream flavor Jake picked out for you was delicious. The snacks certainly whet your appetite, and now you were more than looking forward to having dinner with Heeseung… at his place.

You peered at Heeseung over the top of your laptop as he kept busy behind the espresso bar; Jake was a very charismatic cashier, as you experienced first-hand, while Heeseung was rather efficient at serving up beverages and hopping in to take orders when needed. They seemed to handle themselves well as a team, as far as you could tell from the past couple of hours.

Girls and guys often wandered in to gawk at the two, and you completely understood why. Nonetheless, it didn’t help the surge of discomfort you felt when you caught two girls checking Heeseung out from behind. There was nothing you could do but seethe in your seat.

Relax. They’re not the ones headed home with him tonight.

Ah, that reminder helped, sort of.

Now you were feeling antsy about the fact that Heeseung had invited you over in the first place. There was no way you prepared in any way, shape or form with how little heads up he gave you, but you couldn’t have easily passed up the opportunity to get a look at his place and spend more time with him.

And if he baked, he had to be a good cook, no?

The chatty girls ended up being the last customers to leave the cafe, except for you in the corner, partially anxious but mostly content because you were alone, and so was Heeseung.

After a quiet period, you were drawn from your studies when a woman who stood out from the average patron strolled into the cafe. She was dressed well enough to convince you that she was a model or at least an influencer of sorts, especially by the confident way she held herself.

Jake welcomed her warmly, and you were about to slip your headphones back on when you heard her speak, “Hello. Does Heeseung work here?”

“Yeah! Do you want me to get him for you? He’s prepping food in the back.”

“Please.”

Who is she? A friend?

Jake made his way to the back kitchens. “Hey, Heeseung! Someone’s here to see you!”

“One sec,” You heard Heeseung call.

The woman stood calmly and patiently at the counter; she appeared to be in her mid-twenties and looked sharp in all-black fashion with a set of alluring, shadowy eyes. An uneasy feeling passed through your stomach at the way she suddenly rolled her shoulders and neck— you couldn’t put a finger on it, but if it involved Heeseung, you didn’t like it.

Heeseung emerged from the kitchen doors, and you became deeply concerned at how his face went stoic upon seeing the mysterious woman. Jake sensed something was off as well and looked back and forth between the two.

“Hi. I hope I caught you at a good time. As you know, I’ve been wanting to chat,” Her tone was overtly sweet.

Heeseung rounded the counter and approached her, dropping his voice to an inaudible murmur.

Whispers were exchanged between them; you focused on trying to read their lips, but it was difficult. They were familiar with each other, that much you could tell. However, they couldn’t have looked like more complete opposites.

Feeling that you were being nosy, you stopped staring and returned to your project at hand, not wanting to overstep any further.

A sharp slap followed by a harsh clatter resounded in the empty cafe, alerting you.

Shocked, your head whipped towards the source of the noise, only to see Heeseung, whose face was angled away from you. Your sights landed on his glasses on the tile floor.

The woman standing in front of him took an easy breath, but the way she flicked her wrist gave away her rage.

Somehow, you were already standing from your seat, crossing the floor, “Excuse me. Did you just–”

The woman kept her eyes trained on Heeseung, “Mind your own business, love.”

Jake jumped in front of you, waving his hands, “Jesus— Easy, easy. I’ll handle this.”

Red filled your vision once your brain registered what had happened, but you had enough sense to stand your ground a safe distance away— for that woman’s sake.

“Get her out of here before I do it myself,” you gritted out.

Jake nodded and was quick to address the woman, “Miss, I’m not sure what’s going on, but you can’t just assault our staff. I’m going to have to ask you to leave immediately due to store policy.”

She eyed you, and her sharp expression slowly morphed into a feigned smile, startling you.

“Just one more thing,” She inclined her chin towards Heeseung, “Then we’ll chat back at my place after you wrap up here, alright, love?”

Heeseung’s gaze flickered at the woman, but he said nothing.

She sauntered up to him, much too close for anyone’s comfort, and reached out to take hold of his chin, her sharp nails gauging into his skin. Stunned, you watched him shut his eyes tightly, how his brows drew together— and then he caught her wrist before she could get any closer.

Heeseung spoke in an extremely deliberate tone, “No. This is the last time I’ll be saying this to you. We’re finished. We’ve been finished. Do you understand?”

As the woman’s fingers curled into a fist, so did yours.

“Leave. If I see you bothering any customers or staff who occupy this space, I’ll let the authorities deal with you,” He warned.

“I’ve taken care of you since we were children, Heeseung.”

The statement took you by surprise.

“We’re done talking,” Heeseung tugged her past you and Jake towards the cafe entrance. She pulled back on his grip, but he remained unfazed.

The two of you watched him take her outside and proceed to lock up the front of the store. Jake quickly followed and began to pull down the blinds as the woman pressed up against the windows. Her eyes slowly dragged over your form in the most demeaning manner.

“Talk about a crazy ex,” Jake murmured to no one in particular, pressing his back against the covered window. You exhaled heavily, speechless at the turn of events.

When you bent over to pick up Heeseung’s glasses and inspect them, you noticed a lens had cracked. One could only imagine how much the slap must’ve stung.

Heeseung touched the small of your back, “I’m really sorry you had to see that.”

Feeling left in the dark, you turned around and gave him a look of confusion, “Exactly how long has it been since you broke up with your ex?”

“Since the start of the semester,” Heeseung answered right away, “This is the first time I’ve seen her since. I don’t know how she found out about my new job.”

“And she still can’t take a hint?” Jake asked while cleaning up behind the register.

“She will now because I’m not entertaining her games.”

You felt relief, but you immediately regretted the question.

What a thing for me to ask after everything that just took place, you thought, ashamed.

“Are you okay?” Your hand was shaky when you reached out to touch his cheek.

His fingers brushed against the back of your hand in reassurance.

“I’m fine. I’ll be better once we get out of here and grab something to eat back at my place,” He managed to give you a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

#heeseung smut #heeseung x female reader #heeseung x reader #enhypen smut #lee heeseung smut #heeseung hard hours #enhypen hard hours #heeseung fic #heeseung ff #heeseung fanfic #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen fanfic #enhypen ff

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rayassecretlife · 1 year

Text

Corrupt me

Pairing: 19 year old!Neteyam Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Summary: Neteyam and you had been dating for many months but never went farther then a kiss since you were fairly innocent and didn’t understand much. One night when he slips through your window to see you, your hormones get the best of you and you turn to him for guidance.

Warning(s): Corruption kink, Mature language, Praise kink, F!ngering, squ!rting, aftercare :))), Kissing, etc.

“Come on!” You groan, tugging at the string that connected the small bracelet you had been making. It was about 1:00am and it was safe to say you had been working on jewelry for the past few hours. The night sky was dark and gloomy while the simple flower you had in your room lit the area, allowing you to see everything you had been doing. The bracelet was rather important to you being as it was for your boyfriend.

The small scraping noise behind you made your head turn quickly with a gasp, but to your relief and surprise, it was a very familiar face. “Hey, Syulang” You glare at your boyfriend as you stand to your feet, helping him through the small opening in your wall that acted as a window. “Why the face? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“What are you doing here! What if my dad-“ He shushes your whispers, moving past you to sit on the floor where you had been making the bracelet. At this point there was no reason in keeping it from him. “I-it’s not finished” You try to reason but he chuckles, Picking it up to get a closer look. Did he not like it? Was it not the colors he liked?

You sat next to your boyfriend, grabbing the bracelet from him to put away. His eyes were strained on your own with a small laugh, arms pulling you close to his embrace. “I like that one” His reassuring words make you smile against his chest and you almost instantly nuzzle your head into him, the warmth from his body radiating off yours perfectly. “I missed you, sorry for the surprise visit”

“You saw me hours ago” You lift your head, laying your chin against his chest and his eyes met your own. “I missed you too” A smile tugged his lips as he cupped one side of your face, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. His lips were soft against yours but also cold, like they’d been waiting to touch your own for hours.

You and Neteyam had been dating for only a few months but you’ve known each other since you were young. You were the daughter of one of his father’s greatest warrior’s, and Neteyam couldn’t stay away from the fact he couldn’t have you growing up. Your father protected you from boys, most of the time having to break apart you and Neteyam because you never knew what you had been doing was flirting.

You were 18 but rather innocent. You didn’t know how a lot of things worked with mating and boyfriends due to your father always keeping you so out of the loop but all you knew was that you had this undeniable liking to Neteyam and you couldn’t ignore that. You couldn’t ignore the way he made your heart beat faster whenever he was near.

Neteyam was the one that would guide you through certain things; like the first time you held his hand, or when you kissed him having no idea how to kiss. He’d explain everything to you, the way you felt and how he felt it all too. You feared he would look at you as immature for not knowing but it was quite the opposite. He found you so adorable when you would look at him with those doe eyes, hesitant to kiss him.

The farthest you’d ever gone was making out, but that was because you’d often get carried away off that lustful feeling you weren’t used to. You loved him, that’s really what it was. You just wanted to be close to him.

You couldn’t help yourself. He smelled of the forest and vanilla, like a sweet candle the people in the lab had laying around. Maybe it was the fact your body had been looking for something it didn’t know of, or the thought that perhaps he wanted to explore every part of you made your skin explode with heat. Usually it was just kissing between the two of you, but lately you had felt so much differently.

Your lips detach from his but your face is still very close to his, eyes looking up at his for guidance as they always did. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip as he lets out a small huffed out laugh, “What is it, Syulang?” Your stomach turned at the sound of his voice, and that funny feeling you’d been having for weeks came back almost instantly. It felt like this burning sensation between your legs but it didn’t hurt, only becoming annoying to the point you almost wanted to touch where it came from.

His eyes study yours as your mouth opens slightly, but soon closes with your lips pressed together. You didn’t know what to think, you didn’t know what it was and you were afraid he would think you were weird for asking him if he knew. You shake your head with a closed mouth smile before leaning up to kiss him again, and that is the exact reason Neteyam knew you so well.

“Y/N, Baby” He pulls away gently, his hand still cupping the side of your face. He could tell you were holding back from telling him what you needed, but he wasn’t going to let you throw yourself into him to change the subject. “Talk to me” His words are soft and his eyes are softer, understanding as they stare into your own. You sigh and shift in front of him, feeling the weird feeling slightly grow as his free hand caresses the side of your arm.

“I feel weird” You start, looking up at him with a softening face. You genuinely didn’t know how to get rid of this feeling and that’s all you wanted. You wanted to rid this void inside your body. “There’s this… feeling I’ve been getting when you touch me and I-I don’t know how to make it go away” your voice is so clearly begging for him to help you but he’s just as confused as you are.

“What feeling?” He asks in his low voice, pressing his hand to the small of your back. You were so nervous, what if something was wrong with you? Your ears are batting down as you look at him through your eyelashes, you didn’t know what you were feeling. “Does it hurt?”

“Sometimes, if I’m around you long enough” You inform with hesitancy, placing your hands over your lap. His eyes don’t miss where you had landed them, seeing you were trying to hide your loincloth from sight. “It feels like… like fire all over my body. My skin is hot and it scares me” You breathed, fixating on his necklace to miss his gaze.

His mind is slowly but surely putting the pieces together but it almost seems impossible for you to feel such things. He always knew you’d come around but this soon? That wasn’t apart of the plan. He reaches down to push your hair behind your ear, hooking a finger under your chin to lift your head up.

“Do you want to show me where it hurts?” Of course you did. You wanted him to make all of your pain go away but you were unsure he’d be able to. He didn’t know what was wrong with you and neither did you, you didn’t even know why you told him. Your hesitant in his grasp but softly nod before grabbing ahold of his large hand, watching his eyes scan your body for where his hand would meet. he was looking at you seriously, his intense yellow eyes boring into your own.

“It’s…” Your voice is trailing and he can see your nervousness right through your body, now grabbing hold of your hand to give it a small and reassuring squeeze which made you look up at him.

“Let me” You wanted to question what he meant but you didn’t, listening to his every word while keeping your eyes on his as his hand explored your cold skin. He watched your expressions at every point he hit, some making you shiver and others making your ears fall. He was driving you insane.

Finally, his hand is ghosted above your loincloth, very slowly moving down till he was inside of it, making a gasp leave your mouth as your hand quickly moved down to stop him from going lower. “Here?” He asks genuinely, earning an embarrassed nod of your head.

“C-can you make it go away?” You ask desperately, praying to Eywa he was willing to help you. There you were, his adorable innocent girlfriend who was so clueless you didn’t even know your own body’s pleasure. He doesn’t respond, only leaning down to press his soft lips against yours.

He pulls away with one swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip, the tip of his nose nudging yours. “I can help you but you have to trust me” He tells you truthfully, waiting for your answer which you so obviously told him you did. You trusted him with your life. “Let’s move to the hammock then, Hmm? Want you to be comfortable”

You follow the boys orders and lay yourself on your hammock, moving over to make room for him to join you. His large body slowly moves onto the hammock, hovering over your small frame. Your eyes are slightly big as your heart is beating from your chest, you and Neteyam had never been in this position and it definitely intimidated you. He catches wind of your nervousness and quickly leans down to kiss your lips sweetly, as if it was a reward or a reassurance.

“Want you to relax for me. I won’t hurt you, Tìyawn” He speaks against your lips before moving to your jaw, peppering it’s soft skin with kisses as one of his hands moved down your chilling body. The feeling between your legs was growing now and you wondered if he actually knew how to make it better, it was only becoming more unbearable then before.

But you laid relaxed for your boyfriend, trusting in his actions. Neteyam would never hurt you and that was a known fact, but you had no idea what to think when he’s above you like this. It was all so… new?

“Neteyam!” You let out a quiet gasp once he unties your loincloth, earning a raise of his eyebrow from him. You hesitantly nod your head, leaning it back to try and relax like he had asked of you. The tips of his fingers tease the skin of your thighs, ghosting over the insides like he had been drawing lines all over them. Your hands slowly find their way to his hair, slightly tugging on it so he’d pull his face in front of your own. You wanted him to kiss you because If he did, you wouldn’t have to worry.

He of course, read you like a book and pressed his lips against your own with a slight hunger to it, a feeling you rarely saw from him. “Quiet” He mumbled between kisses, silencing your gasp with his mouth as you felt his fingers ghost your forbidden area. You were so nervous, you thought you weren’t supposed to touch there… why was he aloud to? You didn’t understand anything, not even about yourself.

But you trusted him.

Your legs are shifting under him as he lets one of his fingers touch you, a slight grunt leaving his mouth at the feeling between them. You were wet, so fucking wet… and you didn’t know? Sometimes he didn’t understand your innocence. “Neteyam… it… it’s worse” He shushes you with another kiss before laying his forehead against yours, letting out a small chuckle.

“I know, Sweet girl. It’s gonna get worse before it gets better. M’gonna take care of you, I promise” His words are sweet and soft against your ear, fingers touching your forbidden area like they were meant to be there. His thumb pressed against your swollen bud, feeling as your cunt clenched around nothing in anticipation. He had to of been teasing you.

His tongue is gently gliding along your skin with care as his thumb rubs circles to your clit. Your eyes were strained shut at the sudden pleasure, the sudden feeling that wasn’t so weird anymore. It felt good. Neteyam watched your face contort from the feeling, pressing the back of your head against the loom under you. You were so beautiful like this, all hot and bothered just by his presence. You made him absolutely feral and had you not have been so innocent, he would’ve took it all the way with you.

But now his lips are trailing down your neck, against your shoulders and collarbone, up until he couldn’t go any father due to your chest piece. He hums to make you reopen your eyes, watching him slightly tug of the fabric. You look at him with hesitancy but shortly nod your head, watching as he untied the clothing from your top.

Your body was bare under him and you never felt more exposed. Sure, Na’vi we’re already practically naked all the time but he could see every detail in your body; every dip, every line, the curve of your breasts, and your hardened nipples. He was staring, oh eywa, does he not like me anymore? You tried to find the answer but your thinking was cut predominantly short as he leans his head down, reenacting his actions from before against your skin.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N” He says lovingly, making your heart explode and stomach flutter with butterflies. You let out a soft moan which made his ears perk, eyes glancing up at your desperate body. His mouth was so close to your nipple, and for a second you thought he wouldn’t of done anything with that, but you couldn’t of been more wrong.

“Tey…!” Your whispered moans flew from your mouth and you couldn’t stop them, placing your hand on his head as you watched him swirl his tongue around your hardened nipple, meeting your eyes with his big yellows. Was this even aloud? You didn’t even know people touch there… your breathing heavy under him, pulling his hair from his face to gain a clear view of him, watching his every move while his finger practically attacked your clit.

“Need you to relax for me, baby” You gain frustrated at his words, weren’t you already relaxed? His hand pressed down on your stomach that heaved, giving you a small chuckle with the shake of his head. “Gonna take the feeling away now, Y/N. You have to be quiet though because It’s gonna feel weird at first, okay?” His free hand strokes your cheek and you nod, giving him permission to do basically whatever he had wanted with you.

He released your nipple and moved back up to your lips, capturing you in his embrace as his digits move up and down your slit. Your slick covered his fingers with ease, and you couldn’t help but moan against him at the foreign feeling. You notice his hunger against your lips increase, and his tongue slipped into your mouth as the same time his finger did your entrance, making you gasp.

His free hand continues to caress your cheek in hopes to sooth you, pressing one of his large, slender fingers deep inside you. You didn’t understand. You didn’t understand how you thought this was so wrong all your life… It didn’t feel weird anymore—it felt so, so fucking good.

Neteyam doesn’t miss the way your hips wind against him to gain more friction, pulling away from your lips with a smirk. “See? And you were all nervous” He smiles through his bitten lip before kissing you again, falling in love with your lustful eyes all over again. You let your hands hold the sides of his head as you match his pace against your lips, bending your legs to press against his sides as he curled his finger against your gummy walls.

He cursed himself. You were so innocent and cute, so new and fresh. You’d never been touched before, and he wanted it to be him that corrupted your innocence. He could feel his cock getting harder against the cloth by the second, thinking about how it would feel to really corrupt you. Your cunt was slipper around his digits, and warm to the touch as if it had been preparing for someone to touch it all this time. You were perfect in every way he imagined; from your beautiful moans, to your breathtaking body, you were his and his only.

“Neteyam… it’s…” You try to find the words once you pull away but nothing comes out, although he knew exactly what you wanted. From the way your cunt clenched around him profusely, trust in Eywa, he knew.

“More? You want more, don’t you?” He aims to tease you but you don’t care anymore, nodding your head desperately and nudging your nose to his. “My sweet, innocent girl” He chuckles, pulling his dripping finger out of you, allowing another to join. “If this is what you’ve felt for so long, you should have told me” He watches you, slowly pushing his ring and middle finger inside you. Your gasp isn’t enough, his fingers were large and believe, they were stretching you.

“I… I didn’t know what it was” You sigh, gripping his shoulders as you lay your head back, breath shaky against the air. He hums as if to ask if it was okay and you slowly nod, looking at him to see his eyes low, looking at what he had been doing to you. “Yes, yes this is what I wanted” was this what they did when mating? Now you were curious. This felt so different but so good, almost forbidden to a point.

Using the same movements before, Neteyam’s fingers curled inside you, this time making you jolt as he reached a certain spot you didn’t even know you had, and your hand pressed against his stomach.

“That’s a good thing, my love. Did it not feel good?” He questions but knows the answer just off your heavy breathing. You close your eyes for a second before releasing his stomach, placing your hands on the back of his neck. He smirks, leaning down to kiss you once more before moving to your ear, restarting his pace from before against you. Your quiet moans were more then enough to tell him everything, to show him what you needed the most. “Such a good girl letting me corrupt you like this—fuck, you turn me on so much” He wanted to palm himself so bad but held back, noticing the slightly louder moan you let out at the name he had called you. You liked that; you liked when he called you that.

“Tey… it’s back—it’s-“

“Your gonna come, pretty girl” He hums, placing sloppy kisses against your sweet spot on your neck. That feeling was back but ten times worse now, like you had to pee almost. His fingers are moving faster into you now, curling against that spongy spot you were so weak to. “Come for me, Sweet girl. Just let it happen” He knew you were nervous but every moan was like another reason for him to keep going, knowing on the inside you were chasing that release, you just didn’t know that.

He notices your moans get louder by the second and quickly moves to kiss your lips, muffling every single one as he felt your release just barely tip over, your legs straining against him and your cunt clenching around his fingers horribly. He coaches you against your lips, holding your body still. He knew you were going to let go. You had to.

“Teyam…!” You gasp against his lips, feeling the pleasurable feeling wash over you like a huge wave, and you could hear the sound of his fingers pumping inside you only increase, helping you ride out the high you had came from. Your moans were loud against his lips and your nails were drawing lines against his back, sure you’d left some blood.

“Good girl—fuck, just like that, keep going” Your boyfriend coaches, your legs were shaking horribly and you somehow were still not breathing normally. Neteyam pulled away from your lips, looking down between the two of you to see the mess you had made. You grew worried as to why he had been staring for so long, reaching down to lift his chin.

“W-what is it? Did I do something I wasn’t supposed to?” You ask worried but he quickly shakes his head, a smile pulling at his lips as he pulls his fingers from inside you, holding them in between your faces so you could see. “I…your hand…” you look at his hand dumbfounded, watching as your slick drips from it gently onto your collarbone. You did all that? How was that even possible.

“Your incredible, Y/N” He chuckles, leaning down to kiss your lips once more before bringing his hand close to his mouth making your eyes widen.

“Neteyam, no! That’s… that’s gross!” You try to protest as he slips one of his fingers into his mouth, closing his eyes at the sweet taste of your slick against his tongue. You wanted to stop him, to tell him how disgusting that was, but you couldn’t. He looked so pretty like this, and you loved watching him taste you.

He pulls back with a pop and leans down to you, bringing his other finger close to your lips to watch your frantic eyes. “Come on, Sweet girl. You taste so, so good” You look at him a little longer hesitant before opening your mouth for him, sticking your pink tongue out for him to slip his finger inside.

The taste is weird at first but after closing your mouth around his finger, you find yourself relishing in it. You tasted sweet and fresh, like a forbidden foreign berry that didn’t exist. Your eyes shut as you run your tongue around his digit, not even noticing his loving eyes that stared at you.

When he pulls his finger from you, your eyes open to him sitting up on his knees in front of you, and your eyes can’t help but notice that pool or water-like stains on his loincloth and stomach, some running down his thigh. “Was… was that me?”

“All you, baby” He says proudly but you don’t understand, only moving to sit back so you could get a better look. You look down at the floor under your hammock, noticing it had been wet too. Neteyam senses the worry in your eyes and shushes you, lifting your chin away from the sight. “It’s a good thing, my love. A very, good thing”

Neteyam removes himself from your hammock to move over to your chest of clothes that secretly hid some of his own, not even bothering to look back at you as he takes off his loincloth. He’s facing away from you but your eyes are only looking at his body, smiling at the way his muscles showed in the light and how his back flexed whenever he moved.

“Are you leaving?” You ask slightly nervous, waiting for him to put on a dry loincloth. You didn’t even know what happened, but you were scared he was going to leave after. What if he never spoke to you after this? What if-

“Are you kicking me out?” He raises an eyebrow as he turns toward you, walking over to you with a cloth in his hand. “Lay back” You glare at him. Again? There was no way you could do that again! “I’m just cleaning you up, Syulang. Need you to lay back so I can dry you off, okay?” His hands are gentle against your thighs as he opens them, waiting until your fully laid back to wipe off your dripping core and thighs. You look at him with a smile, cheeks growing hot as you watch him. He was so adorable, taking care of your body like it was his own. He notices, shaking his head. “Hmm?”

He tosses the cloth in your basket before walking back over to you, slipping onto your hammock where you moved to make room for his large body. His big arms open to you, allowing you to lay your head on his chest comfortably with your legs entwined. You were warm against him, you didn’t even need the blanket that laid atop of you.

“I love you, my mighty warrior” You hum, tracing circles against his chest that vibrates when he laughs and tells you he loves you ten times more, his fingers stroking your hair. “I have one more question before we go to sleep”

You look up at him, laying your chin against his chest. “And what’s that?” A smirk pulls at your lips, the question making your insides churn in the best way possible.

“How does mating work?”

Had a love/hate relationship with this one… but first upload this week!!! Next up: Jake sully smut 😏

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