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mv1simp · 8 hours ago

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Earned It ♥️ - Part 2 of 2?

Max Verstappen x Wife! Reader

cause girl you’re perfect, you’re always worth it, and you deserve it (the way you work it)

PART ONE HERE ♥️

Once you and your loving husband, Max, are finally ready to start trying for a baby, you face your next challenges as a couple navigating pregnancy. After a tricky conception, the two of you are ecstatic to now be five months pregnant. But lately, you can’t help but worry that your husband doesn’t find you desirable when you notice his behaviour changing. You have no idea how wrong you are until Max finds out about your insecurities…and is determined to prove you so very wrong.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, goddamn where do I even begin with this one, BREEDING KINK GO BRRRR, size kink, dom! Max, pillow princess! Sub! Reader, lots of emotional pregnancy hormones and max being the perfect husband, explicit mention of pregnancy and infertility struggles, 7K WC

Resting your cheek against your hand, you stare at your husband, who’s too focused on his current task to notice his pregnant wife’s annoyed expression. The 6 foot blonde Dutchman in question is dutifully serving up a perfectly balanced dinner for you, all macros and vitamin groups carefully counted as per the personal nutritionist he’s hired. Setting down the plate of smoked rosemary chicken breast, garlicky herb potatoes and sides of sautéed broccolini in front of you, Max stands back to admire his work. You can’t resist a petty Stop looking so proud, I know you hired someone to cook this.

Max pouts rather adorably at you. Surely it counts if I still paid for it, right schat? Rolling your eyes moodily at his antics, you stab a potato with your fork and munch on it, unable to resist the pleased hmm that escapes you at how flavourful the meal was. Noticing your reaction, your husband uses it to try gain your good favour again. You like it, schat? I taste tested five different cooks before I chose this one, he makes the best chocolate brownies, exactly how you like them with double fudge!

He tilts his head earnestly, looking the very picture of a cute golden retriever with his sparkling blue eyes and soft blonde locks. You sigh, putting your fork down. Normally, your darling husband’s devotion has your heart fluttering and cheeks flushing. But not today. No, today, your husband had gone too far - and you were going to make sure he made up for his mistake. When he nudges you to resume your eating, you needed the extra energy after all, you pointedly choose to ignore him. You instead pat the heads of your two Bengal cats and dog, Arlo, who curiously weave in between your legs hoping to get a taste of the fragrant dinner.

Groaning, Max slumps against the dining table in the seat next to you, his own plate ignored. I know why you’re upset, schatje, Max admits, conceding defeat. Finally, you mutter, picking your fork back up to resume dinner. You were mad, sure, but doesn’t mean you weren’t also going to eat the delicious dinner now that he had started his confession! It’s about today, isn’t it? Your husband continues. When you came into the paddock and I started creating a scene? I’m sorry, I know you don’t like it when I’m being too paranoid with your safety but I had to tell those reporters to fuck right off!

You put your fork back down and stare at Max, your brows scrunched in bewilderment. He continues talking, completely unassuming of his wife's growing annoyance as he explains. The "scene" that your clueless husband was referring to had been your attendance at the Monaco Grand Prix earlier that day. The paparazzi had gone positively wild at the rare sight of the retired World Champion with his arm around his obviously pregnant wife - whom he very rarely brought to F1 events for her own safety these days. He still attended races regularly, given how he coached and managed his own racing team now - but that certainly didn't mean he was going to make his beloved wife suffer the stuffiness of the paddock. But you’d insisted on coming to this particular race, pleading at him with puppy eyes, matching your shared golden labrador Arlo’s identical ones as you held the dog up to double your bargaining power. If your friends and family said Max Verstappen was whipped for his wife before, then they'd say he'd ascended into stratospheric levels of devotion once you became pregnant. He could never say no to anything you asked when you flutter your thick lashes up at him.

So even though he hated the idea of nosy reporters and fans getting up in the space of his adorable pregnant wife, he conceded by taking the self anointed role of your bodyguard. He certainly looked the picture of an ominous guard dog, smiling fondly down at you when you chattered to him or tugged his swollen bicep to pull him towards some food - and then icily glaring at anyone who tried to get too close to his wife. Everyone respectfully maintained their distance, scared off by the Dutch Lion. But towards the end of the race, some of the reporters hadn’t been able to resist coming in close when you’d taken your pearl buttoned cardigan off in the heat. The flowy cream-coloured long sleeved, short dress you wore underneath showed off your gentle baby bump. Paparazzio's eyes gleamed at the hot commodity, their hands twitching to their cameras to snap a highly demanded picture. Your husband’s overzealous efforts during the entire pregnancy to buy out publishing companies before anything could reach print and affect your privacy had left the F1 gossip pages begging for a rare photo of Max Verstappen’s pregnant wife.

So when Max turned to speak to one of his old race engineers, some of the reporters eagerly came a bit too close to you. They startle you with the mic suddenly in your face, asking if you were far along enough to know the gender and had you thought of baby names?

Max notices immediately, of course, his metaphorical guard dog ears swivelling in the direction of the intrusion to his wife’s peace. He’s about to interrupt when someone stumbles at the back of the group - a very common occurrence e in the crowded paddock. Unfortunately, that results in the reporter’s mic nudging against your pregnant stomach.

It hadn’t hurt, just a brief push, really! You were just caught off guard and slightly stumbled back yourself, a hand on your belly instinctively. The reporter is already sincerely apologising to you, and you’re waving them off, saying it was not a problem-

But your husband most certainly isn’t on the same page. He steps in front of you, his tall and broad frame completely blocking you away from the frenzied group, and uses a broad sweep of his muscled arm to push the reporter back. You watch in awe as he snarls at the group, reminding everyone of why his nickname was Mad Max, telling them all to fuck off or he’ll have them banned permanently from the paddock.

So this was the apparent scene that your passionate husband thought was the source of your ire, and was earnestly trying to apologise for now. He'd thought you were upset with him hovering over your shoulder, and making a dramatic scene. But he had no clue how wrong he was about the way you truly felt.

Sure, his protectiveness was something you’d talked about a few times - but that was because of how over the top Max had gotten with his security measures when he found out you were pregnant. Anyone who visited your home who dared to so much as politely cough was immediately tossed outside and told to come back when they didn’t have pneumonia. All of your meals were carefully preplanned and cooked for you, and the new motion activated aircon was always running at the right temperature for "optimal blood flow to the baby" (That's a scam, Max you told him blandly, I'm literally a doctor, trust me.) He wouldn’t let you lift anything heavier than your phone for weeks until you'd triumphantly opened a medical textbook to show him the chapter on importance of exercise in pregnancy. But he would still sometimes grab things off your unsuspecting hands after eyeing them dubiously. Your protests fell upon deaf ears - Seriously baby, I love you, but I’m strong enough to carry my own purse - I specifically took the pink Chanel bag today to match my fit!

You’d drawn the line when he had broached the topic, quite early in the pregnancy, of you taking time off your demanding schedule as a doctor and department head of the Emergency Department. But he’d quickly conceded when you firmly told him there was no way in hell you were going to sit at home, bored out of your mind when you were capable of working the first 2 trimesters at least - even 2 and a half?

It was almost comical how rapidly the blonde Dutchman’s face paled at the idea of his heavily pregnant wife running around the overcrowded hospital. So he hastily agreed to your compromise of working the first 5 months, albeit sulking rather cutely. You'd had to gently remind him to ease off, that the baby wasn't due for months, to which he replied that was good because he needed time to install the 12-point alarm system inside the house. You'd rolled your eyes fondly in response, but run a reassuring hand through his blonde locks, making him exhale and lean into your comforting touch. He nuzzles his face into your neck as you rubbed gentle circles to diffuse the tension in his corded back muscles, enjoying the way he’d almost purred contentedly like a cat. You’d reminded him gently to look after himself, too, and not you and his future child. I’m here to take care of you both as well, liefje, you say warmly.

So yes, you suppose one could say Max had been having some trouble…relaxing during your pregnancy. And why he now thought you were frustrated with his overprotective tendencies again today at the Monaco Grand Prix. But the idiot was being completely oblivious to your true feelings.

Because the truth was that you’d found the way he’d defended you fiercely, both in words and action, extremely attractive. And you’d wanted him to know that too, blushing as you look up at him in awe, biting your lip as he guided you into the car to drive you home with a clenched jaw. There was something about seeing your already gorgeous husband look ready to go to commit manslaughter to protect you that made him even goddamn hotter. By the time you'd gotten back home, you were ready to drag him to the luxurious Californian King bed and beg him to have his way with you. You’d always had a very active sex life as a married couple, sure - but this past year it had gone to new levels when you were trying to get pregnant. It was so exciting to tease out new sides and interests in each other, even after so many years as a married couple.

And now that you were finally pregnant, you found yourself thinking about Max’s gorgeous smile, his big and strong shoulders that led to swollen biceps, his broad chest and thick, muscular thighs that you loved to sit on. You had all the usual food cravings in your pregnancy that your husband would be up at odd hours to go get - including a 2 hour drive to a neighbouring Italian town for a tub of strawberry gelato you insisted you needed that very same night. But the strongest craving by far was your desire to have Max on top of you, inside you, fucking you during the warm, lazy afternoon and then again in the cool night and then repeating it all in the morning with sleepy sex to start the day off. And you were sure Max would have no reservations about fulfilling this particular craving of yours - after all, your husband normally went feral at invitations to have sex, with your coy suggestions and sultry eyes and teasing smiles.

So it had been very unexpected that for the last month or so, Max had stopped having sex with you completely. You’re not sure when you first noticed it, because he did a great job of distracting you at first - initially redirecting you to some other interesting activity when you’d flutter your lashes up at him. And when that failed, he wouldn’t hesitate to make you quickly reach bliss with his gentle, experienced large fingers or his skilled tongue playing with your soaked pussy. He knew just how to tease you for long enough that when you finally went over the edge, you would happily fall asleep cuddled against his warm figure, completely satisfied. His strong embrace would hold you protectively against him, running circles along your swollen stomach as he watched over you as you fell into deep sleep.

But as the desperate need to properly get railed by your husband grew as more days passed, you knew you had to do something about it - or risk going crazy from the intensity of your horny pregnancy cravings. You hadn’t realised how much he’d been redirecting your attempts until today, when you came home from the race. Max still looked furious, scowling about how those reporters needed to learn some goddamn respect in an annoyed tone. Meanwhile, you had moved onto plotting far more pleasurable activities - starting with smiling sweetly up at you husband as you took a seat next to him on the sofa. He sighed, tension easing from your comforting touch, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he wrapped a muscled arm around you.

He was still yapping about some media circus or other when you’d teasingly moved your hand over his bulge, playfully squeezing and seeing if your desires would finally be satisfied by something very thick and hard of his. Max stilled at your ministrations, relaxed body tensing again, gently burying his face into your curls as he took a deep breath in an attempt to compose himself. Giggling as you felt his cock respond to your touch within seconds, you took that as an invitation to slide a small h down the front of his jeans. You knew your husband must be as pent up with sexual frustration at you, and you couldn’t wait to return his favours. As you tuck your dark curls behind your ears in anticipation, bending at the waist towards his lap, you're rudely interrupted by your now rather large tummy in the way. You instinctively winced at the uncomfortable stretch across your bump, which was getting larger each week and catching you off guard in inconvenient times like this. Pouting in annoyance, you swayed your hips back to accomodate the swell of your waist. Then you lowered your head to Max's impressive semi erection, parting your eager lips widely, pink tongue darting out-

When Max had placed a gentle hand over yours and pulled you away from his pants, gently but easily manhandling you upright. You blinked, confused, as he kissed you sweetly instead, cutting off your questioning mumbles with a swipe of his tongue to make you moan. You'd gotten lost in his kisses for a few seconds when he’d got a phone call from his lawyer. His eyes lit up, and he gave you a final, chaste kiss before taking it with a sorry, schatje, why don’t you rest for a bit? You watched him, flabbergasted, as he stood up to go over to the kitchen and animatedly discuss filing a restraining order against SkySports. Why on Earth did your husband seem more interested in fighting some standard, run of the mill paparazzi rats than getting his dick sucked? Your doe eyes narrow in suspicion as you eyed his oblivious figure. This was extremely unusual, as normally Max would be tripping out of his pants in excitement if you offered your mouth up to him. His recent avoidant behaviour finally all came together then - and you realised that for the first time in your marriage, Max didn’t seem interested in having sex with you. It was the longest dry period you two had ever had.

You couldn’t stop the swirling anger, hurt, and now very pressing sexual frustration at your husband’s behaviour. You’d already started to hate the body dysmorphia the pregnancy was giving you, with the extra weight you’d gained and the chubbiness around your stomach and hips and ass all accentuating your already curvy figure. You could always rely on your husband to make you feel desirable, though, with the way he fucked you like it was his dying wish on Earth.

But not anymore, apparently, you think dejectedly, as you tune out Max’s misguided apology about his Monaco Grand Prix debacle. You interrupt him, unable to bear the tension any longer. Max, liefje, you begin, voice soft as your earlier pettiness dissolved to give way to vulnerability. I'm not mad about how you defended me today. Your husband looks at you intently with those gorgeous blue eyes of his, patiently waiting for you to go on. You take his large, warm palm into your smaller one, and slowly run your fingers over his skin, calloused from years of professional racing. You're suddenly feeling shy with how focused he is on you, but your pent up feelings can't go on like this. I - I was more, well, I thought it was really hot how you pushed everyone off me, you confessed, still looking down at your intertwined hands. And then when you looked so mad when you yelled at them - you bite your lip at the memory. When you finally meet your husband's eyes again, you find a cocky gleam in his eyes as he noted the way you pressed your thighs together.

Oh, schat, did you get all wet and bothered at seeing me protect you? Max's voice deepened as he teased you with a knowing smirk. You swallow, nodding at his dirty question, your earlier defiance completely gone as you look at him almost pleadingly with desire in your doe eyes. He pulls your smaller frame into his broad chest with a tug from his strong arm around your waist. And as you find yourself on his lap you're breathily telling him how much you want him, need him-

He hmmms approvingly as he gives you a deep kiss, saying he was sorry the two of you'd gotten interrupted earlier, he was very happy to continue where he’d left off. Purring into your ear and making you gasp, he asks you if you wanted his fingers or his tongue first?

You desperately tell him you only wanted one thing - No, no foreplay, I’m so wet already, ju- just need you, Maxie, you ask brazenly as you run your manicured hand down his toned front and just over the waistband to his sweats. And to make sure he’s absolutely certain about what you were asking for, you boldly tell him you wanted his cock, inside you, right now!

Max flushes at your heated demand and it sends a flutter through your aching core. You love being able to catch him off guard! But just when you think you’re finally getting what you want, he slows his wandering hands down and gently murmurs that he’ll make you cum on his thigh first then, schat-

And there it is again - the cold sting of rejection from your husband as he once again hesitates to properly fuck you. Why do you keep doing that? you ask directly, trying to keep your voice steady but your hurt tone still comes through when your lips tremble. You knew how this would go - he would just overstimulate the hell out of you with his thigh and make you cum more than once, exhausting you before you could even get to feel him buried inside you the way you needed him the most. It’s what he’s been doing this entire month.

Max blinks at your abrupt mood change, his expression surprisingly too difficult to read despite the years of marriage you share. Scatje, he says soothingly, trying to reassure you, that’s not it, I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable-

You glare at him now. You do know him well enough to pick up on when he was lying to you - he’s always been horrible at that, after all. You cut him off by suddenly standing up and stalking off to your shared bedroom, saying that you were going to bed and didn't want to be disturbed. It’s a bit dramatic of you, sure, but you can always blame it on the pregnancy hormones - your new favourite excuse. You almost slam the door when your husband calls out that you had barely eaten dinner, his deep voice laced with concern.

Puffing your cheeks as you reply you'd eat later, you slowly close the door instead, feeling guilty that Max was so caring towards you even when you were being dramatic about not getting laid. Changing into a comfortable satin nightdress, you end up sinking into the plush bed, suddenly tired from the overthinking and sexual frustration that's been building up within you. Maybe you’re being unfair on Max, you think sleepily. Maybe he was just caught up in his own worries and anxieties and that’s why he couldn’t focus on anything else - like your normally positively sinful sex life.

After all, he had good reason to worry - because despite your excitement at finally being on the same page about the next stage of your marriage, actually getting pregnant had been far from easy. Of course, you hadn't expected it to happen straight away, knowing it would take a couple of months at least. Your medical textbooks stated the average couple took around 6 months, even! If anything, you and Max were glad for the time you had to thoroughly fuck each other, long and hard. Every fleeting touch, stolen gaze over a dinner with friends would result in you both practically ripping the clothes of each other and rolling around in the Egyptian cotton sheets. Soon you barely even made it to the bedroom - with him taking you in the entry corridor of your home, obscene noises filling the air as his hips unwaveringly pounding into your dripping cunny and you desperately moan his name from where he had you pinned against the wall. It was thrilling, this new rush and desire for all your lovemaking to result in an actual baby.

You'd unlocked a breeding kink of Max's that he hadn't truly realised the extent of - until he saw you cooing at his baby niece who was being rocked in her Uncle Max's arms. Looking down at the scene of his pretty wife smiling at a child who looked just like Max made the Dutch Lion unable to resist the temptation of having you right there. He'd handed his niece back to his sister and attempted to appear subtle as he all but hauled you off upstairs from the rest of the family barbecue. You'd been confused but as soon as he led you into a small office, locking the door behind him, you recognise the dark gaze he hungrily eyes you with. Even you'd lost your normally sensibilities when your husband acted like this, and you willingly spread your soft thighs for him to bury his raw, aching cock into. He fucked you on the wooden desk, a large palm clamped over your drooling lips to keep you quiet. You must have cum at least twice from the way he murmured darkly how good you were going to look pregnant with my child, that's right, gonna be a good vrouw for me and take all my cum, yeah?

So 6 months practically flew by, the two of you thoroughly enjoying yourselves. But when it hit 7 months, and suddenly you couldn't help but notice how all your friends and cousin sisters and in laws seemed to be getting knocked up. It seemed everyone you knew had become pregnant at the drop of the hat - your childhood best friend, your favourite coworker - and even your neighbour's cat, after her and your household cat Jimmy had a rather scandalous affair themselves. Although you'd try to fight it, you couldn't stop the sinking feeling of guilt, of feeling like you weren't good enough for Max, for your future family. It chipped away at your confidence everytime you would tell Max that you were on your period, like clockwork on the same day each month. And your husband remained as considerate as ever, tactfully not asking if you were late this month unless you brought it up yourself - even though he knew your cycle like his own steering wheel by now. You felt too overwhelmed to talk about how much of a failure you felt to Max, who had remained the perfect, devoted husband.

But you hadn't been able to hold it together by 8 months, because this was when your period was finally late. You kept holding your breath, waiting for it to come the next day or the day after - but it never did. And two whole weeks past, and for the first time you let a bubble of hope rise in your chest. Max kept looking at you curiously, noting how you seemed a little happier for this time of the month than usual, but waited for you to come to him yourself. And you almost had that weekend where you were attending yet another friend's gender reveal party, and had seen Max bend down on a knee to sign something for one of the excited kids who spotted the ex Redbull champion. You'd been unable to resist grinning at the sight of multiple toddlers swarming the 6 foot Blonde who handled them rather impressively. He's going to make sure a good father someday, your friend giggled to you by your side. You hmmed in agreement, finally feeling excited about the possibility of you two becoming parents for the first time in weeks.

So that evening, when Max had gone out to meet some of his mates, you committed fully to the bubble of hope and brought a pregnancy test. But after those five minutes were up, your world came crashing down again as the lines read negative out to you. You're not sure how long you ended up sitting on the cold bathroom marble, staring blankly at the stick, your mind running a million miles a minute as you anxiously overthink, But it must have been quite a while, because you're only distracted when you hear Max's knock on the bathroom door, and his worried voice saying Schatje? I'm coming in, you aren't replying-

And as soon as your husband walked in, his soft, blue eyes taking in the heartbroken expression on your face and the pregnancy test at your feet, you couldn't hold it together anymore. Max's own heart broke at the sight of his wife bursting into tears, sobbing and confessing how much of a failure she was, how this is the only thing he wanted and she couldn't give it to him, how she was so sorry-

He'd gathered your shaking, petite form into his comforting embrace and ran soothing motions all up your back as he murmured reassurances to you that it was okay, he was here and you two would get through it together like you always did. When you'd finally managed to stop sobbing, now just sniffling, he wiped the tears off your face as he firmly told you that none of this was your fault, and you had nothing to blame yourself for. It was all just a matter of time and luck, and at the end of the day he didn't care about what happened in the future - what truly mattered was that you were happy.

You'd nodded shakily, doe eyes rimmed with red as you let him carry you to bed. He held you extra tightly that night, until you'd fallen asleep in his arms after crying yourself to exhaustion. You had started feeling better by month 9, with some of the heavy expectation you'd put on your shoulders easing off now that you'd opened up to Max about how you'd felt. Your late period had already come and gone, but you didn't find yourself falling apart at it like last time. Taking it as a promising sign, your husband insisted that the two of you take a week off and relax of the Sicilian coast.

You finally felt like yourself for the first time in a while again, closing your eyes and enjoying the sun beating down on you, drying you off after the refresing swim you'd had in the turqoise waters. Max emerges onto the deck himself, shaking his hair and making you laugh as your dog Arlo does the same next to him. Truly, he was such a golden retriever, all tall, blonde and handsome. You couldn't help but feel your heart swell with gratefulness that you'd found the perfect husband to complete you. Grinning at the sound of his wife's genuine laughter, Max plops down next to you, resting his soft locks comfortably on your plush thighs as he snoozes.

And that evening, when you two made love, it felt different somehow. The months of high intensity, filthy and desperate sex had been fantastic, of course. But there was just something about the slow, sensual pace of Max's lips moving their way down your bare waist, his intense blue eyes watching you closely as he buried his head in between your thighs, right there on the yacht deck. You moaned as your small hands entangle in his golden hair, and let yourself get lost in the dizzying waves of pleasure without any thought of needing to get pregnant.

You taste different, your husband murmurs suddenly, his husky Dutch accent sending shivers to your throbbing core. You flush at his words, comfortable enough with him to swat his head with your thigh, indignantly replying that No wife wanted to hear that from her husband when he's going down on her-Oh! Fuck!

Your protests are cut off abruptly as he gives your dripping pussy another teasing lick, an almost thoughtful expression on his face. I didn't say different is bad, he counters smugly, enjoying the sight of rendering you speechless with his tongue. You always taste good, schat, but right now - he presses that large, Dutch nose of his that you adore right into your dripping pussy - you taste even sweeter than normal...like honeydew.

Of course, Max had always enjoyed eating you out your whole relationship. But that week on the Sicilian coastline, he seemed even more entranced than usual, wanting to have you for breakfast, lunch and dinner, saying that you just tasted sweeter and sweeter each time. Not that you were complaining, of course - he definitely knew what he was doing when he deftly untied your bikini strings to bury his face in between your soft thighs. It wasn't until a couple of weeks later that you'd realise just why you tasted so different to your husband. When a bout of vomiting that you'd returned back to Monaco with and thought to be a tummy bug from dodgy seafood didn't stop, you realised that you'd somehow missed your period that month, too. The vacation Max had planned for you had certainly gotten your mind off trying for a baby a little too well, it seemed - so much so that you’d stopped tracking your cycle.

So when your husband finds you on the bathroom floor for a second time, staring in shock at a pregnancy test in front of you, he immediately is at your side. He hugs you tightly again, making you secure in his embrace and stroking your curls as he tells you please don’t cry again, schatje, I can’t bear to see you like this, it’ll all be okay, we can try other options or always adopt-

You laugh, still in a state of disbelief, the noise muffled against his muscular chest. No, no, Max, I’m actually okay this time, you say as you pull away, smiling up at him. Oh, he says, blinking at you with worry, not looking convinced. Are you sure?

You nod, unable to control the ecstatic grin that appears on your lips. Yes, liefje. I’m positive. And then your husband sees the pregnancy test you hold up for him, the proof of your marriage’s perseverance over these past months as two lines. His jaw drops open, and you giggle at his expression. This is my third one today, it’s definitely real, Maxie. Finally processing the news, he laughs with delight, embracing you tightly again as happy tears filling his pretty ocean blue eyes as he tells you how excited he is.

So now, 5 months later and in the present, you suppose Max was still on edge with how fragile you’d been at the start of your pregnancy. But you’d been so stable and healthy throughout it, looking after yourself and of course having a very dedicated husband who watched your nutrition and daily gentle exercise like a hawk. There was no reason for him to still be concerned about your safety, you think sleepily as you sink against your soft pillows. Your mind drifts to sleep as your overthinking tires you out.

You wake up with a gasp sometime later, breathing heavily as you stare at the moonlit ceilingas the intense dream you’d been having replays again in your head. Hazy visions of strong hands holding you down as his wide cock fucked into you, a deep accented Dutch voice crooning in your ears that your sweet cunt treated him so well, it was just made to take him perfectly, hmm? You’re not sure how much time has passed, but it must only have been a couple hours when you turn the warm bedside lamp on and see your husband hasn’t come to bed yet. The stinging feeling of rejection fills you again, even though you knew Max was probably just relaxing with a video game out in the living room after the emotional rollercoaster you'd been hitting him with today.

But the pregnancy had definitely sent your insecurities into overdrive, and you’re starting to sniffle and you quickly try to muffle your sobs with a palm to your trembling lips. You can’t hide from your ever observant husband, though. A small line of light shines into the dim bedroom as Max cracks open the door, entering with a hopeful look and to ask if you were hungry yet.

At the sight of his teary, pregnant wife sitting up in bed, he’s at your side looking at you with concern. What’s wrong, scatje? He asks, an undertone of urgency in his usually calm voice. Are you hurt? In pain? Is the baby-

I’m fine, Max, we’re fine, you say through the tears, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. I'm sorry I've been acting so crazy all day. God, I’m so stupid, I don’t understand why I’m feeling like this when you’re being such a good husband-

Hearing your self deprecating words, he reassuringly you with a gentle kiss to your forehead, calming down your anxiously beating heart. Tell me what’s happening, schatje, he encourages earnestly, validating that your feelings weren’t silly to him. Although you’re still shaking slightly, your breathing starts to settle as your brown doe eyes look up into his intense blue gaze. I had a dream, Maxie, you breathe, focused on him completely as flashes of the erotic wet dream you’d had return. I had a dream, and you were in it, and- you bite your lip as desire pools in your core - and you were in me, and it felt so, so amazing, and I don’t get it, why don’t you want to have sex with me anymore?

Your husband’s eyes go wide in surprise at your question as you continue. Is it - you sniffle - is it because I’m too fat now? It is, isn’t it? You don’t find me pretty like this? Max is bewildered, not having guessed this was the reason why his wife had been feeling so upset today. He’s pulling you against his strong chest, rubbing soothing circles along your back to calm your jerky breathing down fully. Oh, my sweet vrouw, I’ve been ignoring where you needed me the most, hmm? His comforting, deep voice murmurs reassurances about how you were absolutely beautiful in the pregnancy, having already been the most gorgeous wife but now, you genuinely glowed. Remember the valet at dinner last week who walked straight into the revolving door when he saw you? Max jokes, making you giggle through your tears at the memory of the gawking young valet. Wiping your tears away with a gentle stroke of his thumb, his gorgeous blue eyes look at yours intently as he agrees that he’s been holding back lately. But given how quickly things in bed can get…a bit rough, Max says, cheeks adorably flushing and making you grin, he wanted to avoid anything that could hurt you and the baby. Especially because I don't think I can hold back once I start, because seeing you pregnant with my child has been driving me wild.

Your heart swells with love at your ever thoughtful husband. But his sweet intentions are not needed right now, and you tell him this as you wrap your arms across his broad shoulders. Maxie, you say warmly, your doe eyes blinking up at him with adoration, you know that having sex isn’t going to hurt the baby, right? Even when he didn’t believe your textbook, your literal gynaecologist said there’s no problem.

I know, I know, your husband says, his ocean blue eyes looking at you a bit helplessly. It’s just that I can’t bear the thought of hurting you in any way, the pregnancy was already hard for you at the start and I-

You cut his worried rant off by drifting your small hands across his swollen biceps, to his own large palms. Have you not found it hard to be apart like this, liefje? you ask him directly. Biting his lip rather sexily, your husband’s gaze lowers to where your juicy tits, already having grown larger as your pregnancy went on, bounced enticingly with every breath. You don’t miss a beat, guiding his warm palms from your waist to your delicate collarbones, where you help him slip your skimpy nightgown off your shoulders.

Max’s eyes go dark with desire, and you find a similar need throb in your pussy at seeing him like this. Finally, there your lion of a husband was, the one who acted like he would willingly go to war for one more night with you. You tell him, sounding breathless from how excited you are, about all the times you’d fantasized about him fucking you daily on the sofa, on the dinner table, even that time at dinner last week when he'd worn a fitted shirt and you’d considered begging him to have his way with you right there in the restaurant bathroom. Max groans from your heated confession, and you feel him rapidly hardening underneath you from where you’re sitting in his lap.

It’s been - he swallows, his hands now brushing towards your tempting chest to play with your swollen nipples - it’s been so fucking hard, schatje. You have no idea how sexy you look like this. God, I wanna fuck you so much that you end up pregnant again.

You laugh at his confession now, finally feeling at ease knowing he had been wanted you just as much as you had. You’ve been holding back on me, my dear husband, you tease, peppering his flushed cheeks with gentle kisses. You’ll make up for it tonight, please? Fuck me properly and make me cum around your cock? You finish your naughty demand with a playful grind of your damp panties against his now impressively hard erection.

Strong hands hold your thick hips securely to put an end to your games. You flutter your eyelashes up at your husband who’s looking more and more hungry by the second, and growls out that his sweet little wife was actually a desperate slut wasn’t she? You gasp excitedly at his dirty words, knowing you’d finally broken the last thread of self control holding him back. Max lifts you easily off his lap, pressing you back against him so his husky voice murmured right into your ear from behind. I forgot how addicted you are to being fucked by my cock. Been dreaming about it for weeks, like a good girl, hmm? You nod furiously, whining out yes, yes, please Maxie’s as your head spins in dizzying pleasure. The swell of your chubby ass rubs against his cockhead as Max easily yanks your lace panties off, joining his hastily abandoned sweatpants on the floor.

Rough hands palm your soft thighs, growling lowly that your ass had been getting so fat lately, it drove him mad everytime you bent over in your flowy minidresses. When you can’t resist grinding back on him invitingly again, he gives you a few gentle smacks and you yelp excitedly. Been wanting to hit it from the back so fucking bad, your husband breathes, as his hand doesn’t leave your ass after his third slap, instead grabbing the bouncing flesh firmly with his large, strong palm. M-Max! you’re so turned on at his dirty confession. You two barely need any foreplay, having already been on a frustrated edge for the whole month, and Max’s large cock easily starts slipping into your dripping hole. You’re comfortably laid out on your side, his toned chest pressing into your back and your combined moans mix as he sinks home into your welcoming cunny.

The position lets him easily thrust half his impressive length into you, controlling the slow pace so you only feel blinding pleasure without a hint of any uncomfortable stretch. I’m not gonna last, Maxie, it feels so good- Ah! Your desperate whimpers are cut off as his hands move to play with your lush, bouncing chest, the pregnancy having enhanced your curves. And these tits, schatje, they’re so pretty for me. You’ll be a good girl and let me fuck them, won’t you?

Your pink lips are parted as you pant in pleasure from his skilled fingers toying with your over sensitive nipples. Yes, Maxie, whatever you want, you whine desperately. You can even cum on them, okay? This time you’re the one making him moan with your words and his hips stutter as he pictures his creamy release dripping all over your large breasts.

He makes you cum then, when he slowly sinks a deep thrust in fully, letting you feel the wide stretch of his cock, making you gasp and throw your head back against his shoulder. Your breathless, high pitched whines are captured by his mouth as he moves his tongue languidly against yours, murmuring how good you did for him, the most perfect vrouw he could have asked for as he talks you through your mind numbing orgasm. He barely lasts a few seconds after you, letting out a Oh fuck! Gonna cum, schat- as your tight, warm pussy clenches around his raging erection and milking him for every last drop.

Heavy, content breathing fills the room as you both come down from your highs together. Your small hands intertwine with his as you smile tiredly at him, where he rests his flushed face against the swell of your chest. Did I satisfy your craving, schatje? Max says with a teasing smile, still breathless. You run your fingers affectionately through his damp, tousled hair. Not even close, baby you say, equally breathless. You know how strong my pregnancy cravings are.

Your husband laughs, the warm sound making you giggle as well. Challenge accepted, schat. Be careful what you wish for.

_____________________________________________

A/N: dedicated gentle husband max who switches up when you rile him up drives me FERALLLLLL hope it does for you too <3 Sooo many of you requested this im so glad you liked part 1!! thoughts on part 3 with soft dad max?? (Im writing this anyway regardless of what yall say ahahaha) 🫶🫶

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x oc

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aemondapologistfrfr · 2 days ago

Text

Anything for You - Pt 0.5

daemon x daughter!reader

Previous Parts

*i wrote and posted this after pt4 btw bc Part 1 was supposed to be a one shot*

Summary: Daemon returns home from the war in the Stepstones after years and when you both see each other it feels as if everything shifts. Upon seeing you again Daemon knows he has to have you regardless of the consequences.

Warnings: 18+ swearing, wine, fingering, face riding, oral(f), loss of virginity, p in v, masturbation(m), two daemon PoVs

Authors Note: i did steal a scene from season one bc i wanted to and that’s ok 🙂‍↕️ wioumcysicha - gnawing at the bars of my enclosure fr

Word Count: 6k sry

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Two years ago

My hands shake as I read his half scribbled words across the parchment. Tears pour down my face as I read it over and over. I send all of my handmaidens out and curl up in my bed letting the sobs tear through my body. I wipe my eyes to read it one last time before crumpling it up and tossing it across my chambers.

Daughter-

I'm sorry I didn’t tell you that I was leaving in person. I couldn’t bear to see the look on your face, sweet girl. I’ll come home to you as soon as I am able.

-Father

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Two moons before Part 1

My handmaidens fret about my chambers offering me new dresses and necklaces to all I shake my head. My doors are thrown open as more come in with different wines and sweets and I get up and lay across my chaise on the balcony. There is only one thing, one person that could truly make me feel better: my father.

He left me that night two years ago now and hasn’t returned since. There has been such an emptiness inside of me since then. The Red Keep is crawling with whispers and rumors of different fates that have befallen the rogue Prince but I know in my heart that he will return to me. I’ve been lonely the past two years and the King has tried everything to get me to agree to a marriage I have no interest in.

My handmaidens whisper about eligible Lords who are visiting and known to be very generous. I’ve shared a meal with a handful of them but none of them could offer me what I truly desired or needed. I’m not deaf to the whispers around the Keep that surround me that call me a ghost ever since my father went to war.

In the fortnight following my nineteenth name day I have begun to truly believe what they say. I have no interest in anything besides laying on my chaise or taking baths. I call my handmaidens over to prepare me a bath as I slowly begin to rise. I stretch out and look across the Bay and my heart stops when I see a streak of red.

It cannot be. I shake my head and run over to the railing. The piercing song I remember travels through my chambers and I drop everything and sprint down the hall. My guard chases after me as I make my way to the main hall. I wait at the bottom of the stairs and stare at the doors, not daring to wait outside. I pick at my nails and focus on trying to calm my breathing.

“Princess, could I escort you back to your chambers?” my guard looks down at me concerned.

“No.” I don’t even deign to look at him. I keep my focus ahead as the minutes drag by. Servants pass by and avoid contact with me as I take a seat on the bottom step. I rest my head in my hands as I continue to wait for the door. My guard shifts uncomfortably next to me and I roll my eyes as I begin to grow impatient.

“Princess, it’s been well over an hour. Do-“

“No,” I snap, rising from the stairs. “I’m waiting for-“ the doors push open and I turn as the breath is taken from my lungs. I notice his short silver hair first. I take a deep breath and run over to him as the tears start to fall down my face. “Daddy?” I sob and he opens his arms and picks me up. I wrap my body around him holding him tightly as I cry into his neck.

The metal of his armor bites into me but I have no care as I hold onto him tighter. I press my lips against his neck as I burrow in closer to him and his arms constrict around me. He slowly sets me back on the ground and I look up at him with watery eyes.

“My sweet girl.” his eyes look me over.

“Don’t leave me again.” my lip wobbles and I wrap my arms around him in another hug.

“I promise that I won’t.” he whispers into my hair. “Come with me, sweet girl.” he threads his fingers into mine. “I have to go see the King.” he starts to lead me in the direction of the throne room.

I continue to look up at him as we walk and I can see the smirk painted across his face. I look up at his short hair with a makeshift crown sitting atop his brow. He looks down at me before pulling me closer and I splay my other hand on the metal covering his torso. I look up at him with such an intense need that a whine slips from my lips.

“Daddy.” I breathe out clinging to him.

“We’ll have time later.” he presses his lips against my forehead before ushering us into the throne room.

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After an hour long talk with the King, my father and I are finally leaving the hall. His hand has stayed molded to mine since we clasped them together. As we walk up the stairs I call my handmaidens to prepare a bath in my chambers. My father and I sit on my couches staring at each other while my handmaidens prepare everything. After they’ve placed everything out I dismiss them and my father looks at me with a raised brow.

“What happened to your hair?” I purse my lips walking over to him.

“Do you not like it?” he looks up at me with a smile. His hands grab my waist and pull me between his thighs.

“I do. It’s just different.” I lean over him and run my fingers through his short locks. His fingers dig into my waist as he pulls me onto his lap. A shiver tracks through me as his armor presses against me.

“You look different, sweet girl.” he cups my face. “A woman now.” his hands slide up my sides and my breath catches.

“Let me bathe you.” I hum. “I’m sure it’s been moons since you’ve had a proper bath.” I raise my brow and he smiles.

“Are you trying to say something?” he chuckles, raising a brow.

“I missed you. I want to make sure you’re okay. Check you for wounds. Scars.” he squints his eyes at me before lifting me off his lap. He stands up and presses his lips to my forehead.

“I will come find you later.” he nods before slipping out of my chambers leaving me there feeling more lost and alone than ever.

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Daemons PoV

He had to get out of her chambers and quickly. The way her body pressed so perfectly to his had him thanking his armor for hiding his hard cock. Gods and she wanted to bath him. This is the first non selfish decision that he has made in ages. He felt a strange feeling when she frowned so deeply when he declined her offer.

His sweet girl's face deflated and he watched her round violet eyes begin to water. He didn’t intend to cause her so much upsetness; he just needed to clear his mind and think. Upon entering his chambers he’s bombarded with servants buzzing around and bringing in clothes and candles.

“Out.” he holds the door wide for them and they all begin to filter out.

He clicks the door shut behind him and begins to remove his armor. Once all of the metal is littered across the floor he goes over to his bed and collapses. He inhales deeply and groans. He has to be going mad or his want is taking over his senses but he can smell her on his sheets. He thinks about her sneaking through the tunnels to curl in his bed over the years and his cock stirs again.

He can’t take it anymore and shoves his hand into his trousers. He groans as his fingers wrap around his shaft and he thinks about her tossing and turning in his bed. The sweet little pout on her lips that he wants to rub his tip over. His thumb swipes over his tip as it begins to leak and he jerks up into his tightening palm. He turns his head to the side and he gets another smell of her sweetness and a low groan slips past his lips. His mind conjures a picture of her squirming beneath him begging for him and his pleasure bursts across his hand.

He sighs, pulling his hand out of his trousers feeling like a young boy who just saw his first low cut gown. He walks to his bath chambers and looks at himself in the mirror before cleaning up and changing. He walks back out to sit in front of his hearth and he rests his head in his hands.

He wants her so badly. He thought he would have more clarity after taking care of himself but it’s only made his desire stronger. He hopes that a night on the street of silk will fix his problem and if it won’t he’ll make her his.

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Your PoV

It’s been three days since my father left my chambers and I’ve only seen him in passing in the halls. He hasn’t come to see me or share any meals with me. My handmaidens look over me worriedly as I continue to decline their efforts. They prepare me for bed and I pout under the covers as they begin to blow out the candles. Once they leave me for the night I stare at the ceiling waiting for sleep to take over.

I groan as I continue to toss and turn, not comfortable or warm enough to find sleep. I wrap the blankets around me tighter and whine before pushing them off and getting up. I grab one of my candles and light it before walking over to the door hidden next to my bed.

I was always thankful that my father showed me these tunnels before he went off to war. On particularly bad nights I would sneak through them and curl up in his bed as the sobs tore through my body. Tonight I’m hoping to be engulfed in his embrace. As I push open the hidden door to his chambers I frown, finding it empty.

I blow out my candle as I make my way deeper into his chambers. I see that the bed is still made as I make my way over to it and begin to pull back the blankets. I slide beneath the covers and inhale deeply smiling that it smells like him once more. I hug a pillow against my chest and finally my eyes are heavy enough to shut.

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I whine as I feel the cool breeze skirting across my skin. I reach blindly for the blanket and turn over on my back to try and find it with my other hand. I gasp, opening my eyes as I feel fingers trailing up my legs. I blink them a couple times so they can adjust to the dark chambers and look up and see my father looking down at me. I look down and notice I shifted my night dress up in an attempt to find the blankets. I pull at the hem and my father lets out a low chuckle.

“What are you doing in here, sweet girl?” his voice like gravel.

“I wanted to be held by you.” I look over his flushed face and smell the ale on his clothes.

“So you come lay in my bed and wait for me in this little dress?” his fingers skim just beneath the edge of my night dress. I nod my head and look up at him. “You should be in your own chambers.” he shakes his head and sits at the end of the bed.

“Why?” my voice a whisper.

“It’s hard for me to control myself around you.” he looks at me over his shoulder.

“What do you mean?” I sit up and drape myself across his back.

“I want to ruin that sweet little cunt between your legs.” he turns around and pushes me back onto the bed. I look up at him with a heaving chest and flushed cheeks. “Gods, look at you.” his fingers brush over my hardened nipples and I gasp, biting my lip.

“Please,” my voice broken and he removes his hands.

“No,” he shakes his head. “I’m taking you back to your chambers.” I push my bottom lip out at his words and he scoops me up from the bed and tosses me over his shoulder.

His hands rest on the back of my thighs as he brings us into the tunnels. He walks back to my chambers on steady feet and when we enter them he walks over to my bed and tosses me down. He watches as I bounce back and my dress slides scandalously up my thighs before shaking his head.

“Go to bed, sweet girl.” he pulls my blankets over me and presses his lips to my scrunched brow.

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Daemons PoV

After he brought her back to her chambers he sealed himself in his chambers and stroked himself until he was spent. The little sounds she made when he brushed over her nipples had him almost bursting in his trousers. The intense want and need in her eyes was all he needed to know that she felt the same way. He made his decision and went to bed knowing he would get what he wanted on the morrow regardless of the consequences.

He wakes early and dresses himself to meet the King in the throne room. The traditions of his family are strange to others but he’s hoping that if anyone will understand it’ll be the King. He ignores everyone because his mind is set and he’s ready to get what he wants. He pushes open the doors to the throne room and finds it empty. He looks up the jagged steps and turns as the doors open again. The King walks in and looks at him curiously.

“What is it?” the King sighs, approaching Daemon.

“Brother, I have something to ask of you.” he searches the King's eyes.

“Calling me brother? You must be truly desperate.” the King's eyes crinkles as he smiles.

“When I offered up my crown you said I could have anything.” the King's amusement begins to fade. “I want my daughter.” Daemon nods his head.

“What do you mean?” the King shakes his head.

“Wed her to me.” Daemon feels his heart beating faster and he doesn’t care if his brother says no or not. He plans to claim her tonight and nothing is changing that.

“No.” the King scoffs. “Daemon, there are plenty of other women for you to choose from.” Daemon lets out a chuckle.

“They’re not good enough.” he waves his brother off.

“I wonder if anyone will ever be good enough for you.” the King shakes his head.

“She is.” Daemon looks to his brother.

“I’ll hear no more of this.” the King brushes past Daemon and begins to ascend the stairs and take his seat upon the throne.

“I will have her.” he points at the King before leaving the throne room.

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Your Pov

I flare my nostrils as I’m jostled once again through the covered carriage that’s pulling me through the city. I push the linen back and look out the small window at the stands and life going on. We hit another hole and my head hits the wooden frame. My handmaiden flies across the carriage to me and cups my head. I roll my eyes and have her take her seat once more.

A small smile starts to form on my lips as we pass through the gates to Rhaenys’s Hill. The carriage makes its way up and comes to a slow stop in front of the Dragonpit. I smooth my skirts as I step out of the carriage and onto the ground. I hear Caraxes' song and pray that he remembers who I am. I walk through the doors with my head held high before my feet falter as I see my father in his riding gear.

“What are you doing here, sweet girl?” he tilts his head walking over to me.

“I wanted to see Caraxes.” I chew my lip looking up at him.

“By yourself?” he raises his brow.

“You don’t want to see me.” my lip wobbles and I clench my fists to steel myself.

“Who said that?” he cups my cheeks and I huff as a tear spills over the edge.

“You don’t come and see me. You’ve been pushing me away. I’m so alone.” my voice cracks and I frown at how I sound. “I don’t know what I did.” I sniffle and he pulls me against his chest.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” he mumbles against my hair. His arms pull me tighter and I begin to settle. He pulls back cradling my head in his hands as he dips down. “Do you want to fly with me?” I search his eyes.

“Really?” I start to smile as he brushes away my tears.

“Come, we’ll find you a change of clothes.” he pulls me away from my handmaiden and rustles through some closets and finds me better attire.

“Can you untie my gown?” I blink up at him. His eyes darken as he slowly turns me around. He pulls on the laces slowly while his other hand brushes the hair cascading down my back. Once loosened enough it starts to slip down my shoulders. “Thank you,” I hum, turning back to him.

“Of course.” he nods his head. He turns and I push my gown off and begin to pull on the trousers and jerkin. He turns back to me and smiles. “I’ll have to get you your own riding gear made.” he chuckles, tightening the belt around the jerkin.

“I would like that.” I offer him a shy smile. He grabs my hand and leads me down into the pits. Soft grumbles and songs come from deep within the earth as we continue our way to Caraxes. He slows our pace as we step into an opening with a curled Caraxes within. “Just as handsome as I remember.” I hum and his eyes blink open.

Caraxes uncurls and pushes his snout forward into my father before pushing into me. A smile spreads across my face and my fathers arms wrap around me. He walks me over to Caraxes side and helps me start climbing up. He helps me take a seat in front of him and he holds me against his chest.

“Are you ready, princess?” he whispers in my ear and I nod quickly. “Fly, Caraxes.” his dragon begins to move us out of the pits before climbing us into the sky.

With every wing beat my heart jumps and my hands cling onto my fathers arms. As Caraxes levels out on the breeze I slowly relax. I close my eyes as I feel the familiar bite of the wind as Caraxes dips to circle the city. My father has him bring us over to the KingsWood. We land in an open field and we begin to slide off. My father cups my face once we make it to solid ground.

“You have become so very beautiful in the past couple years.” he brushes his fingers across my cheek.

“Thank you.” I look up at him chewing my lip. His thumb pulls my lip from between my teeth and I feel my cheeks flush. His thumb continues to ghost across my lips and I look up to him breathing heavily. He steps back and studies me.

“Are there any young men who have caught your eye?” a smirk forms on his lips.

“No.” I shake my head. “The King has expressed his wish for me to marry but no one is good enough.” I scrunch my brows because there is one person who is. “I’ve shared some meals but nothing ever progressed after.” I bring my hands together and pick at my nails.

“No little late night rendezvous in your chambers?” my head snaps up to his as I feel my cheeks blush.

“No.” I shake my head quickly. “No one touches me besides my handmaidens.” I feel my heart beating quicker as he starts to approach.

“Do they now?” he tilts his head.

“No, not like that, like bathe me and dress me and,” I shake my head feeling my face heat even more. “No one has touched me.” I blink up to him not knowing what to say.

“Not even yourself, sweet girl?” he smiles.

“Daddy.” I pout, not wanting him to tease me any longer.

“I asked the King if I could wed you today.” my breath catches at his change in tone and conversation. I search his eyes to make sure he’s not teasing still.

“Did he say we could?” my voice filled with unabashed hope.

“You want to wed me?” he steps closer to me. My heart beats faster as he pulls me against him. “Be my wife? Carry my children? Let me bury myself between these pretty thighs?” he tilts my head up to him.

“Yes, please,” I wrap my hands around his arms. He dips down and presses his lips against mine. I melt into his arms and he lifts me up holding me against him. His tongue pushes into my mouth as I gasp when his fingers dig into my ass.

“I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you, sweet girl.” he mumbles. “I’ll make it up to you tonight.” he sets me back down on the ground and I pout looking up at him wanting to still be within his arms.

“Can we wed?” I ask softly.

“The King said no.” my smile drops. “But I don’t care. You’ll be mine.” he nods and my smile starts to return.

We continue to stroll through the woods until the late afternoon. By the time we make it back to Caraxes the sun is starting to slip below the horizon as he carries us back to the pits. Once we land he takes me back to my gown and I quickly change. “Go back to the Keep with your handmaiden and I’ll come to your chambers later.” he kisses my brow and I smile up at him.

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I allow my handmaidens to give me a bath to get the smell of dragon off of me. After I’m smoothed with oils and perfumes they pull my silk night dress over me. I dismiss them for the night and lay on my chaise near the hearth. I wish I knew when he was coming or if I should just sleep. I frown and make my way to my bed when the door to the tunnel opens. A smile spreads across my cheeks as my father shuts the door behind him.

“Were you going to bed, sweet girl?” he saunters over to my bed.

“I was going to lay down and wait for you.” I walk over to him.

“In an even shorter dress than before?” he groans, resting his hands on my hips. He gently lays me back on the bed and looks down at me. “Gods, I just,” he shakes his head. “Can daddy touch you?” his eyes snap to mine as a whimper spills from my lips.

“Please,” my voice barely a whisper.

He starts to lift my night dress off and I squirm under his heated gaze. His eyes trail over every inch of skin that he exposes. I squeeze my thighs together as he lifts my dress higher. When he pulls it over my chest I feel my nipples harden from the cool air. I lift my arms and he smiles, slipping the dress the rest of the way off.

“Good girl.” he hums, skating his fingers up my torso. His fingers roll one of my nipples and I gasp below him. He crawls over me on the bed and I sigh, engulfed by his warmth. He dips his head down and sucks my neglected nipple into his mouth and I squeak as his tongue flicks across it.

“Daddy,” I cry out. “Please,” I whine and he teases the hardened bud with his teeth. He chuckles against my skin before kissing his way down my torso. I watch with a flushed face as he spreads my thighs and settles between them. He presses his lips on the insides of my thighs and I tremble.

“Do you want me to make you feel good?” he looks at me with dark eyes.

“Yes,” I whine. My head falls back to the pillows as his tongue pushes through my slit. Soft moans fall from my lips as he softly kisses my bud. His tongue trails down to my core and my legs shake on either side of his head. He holds my legs open against the bed and starts to lick at me with more fervor. “Please, yes,” I cry out and I bury my fingers in his hair. My body goes taught as my pleasure slams through me.

I look down at him and see him staring up at me already. Soft pleas pour from my mouth as he starts to lap at me slowly again. One of his hands move from my thigh and soon I feel one of his fingers start to press into my core. My fingers dig into his hair and he groans against me slowly pushing his finger into me. He slowly starts to move his finger and let my head fall back as I feel my pleasure building once more.

A loud moan is pulled from my lips as he presses a second finger in. My hips roll against his face as my stomach starts to tighten. His fingers curl slightly and I pulse around his fingers lifting up off the bed. He licks me through my pleasure before sitting up and watching my squirming body. I sit up and press my lips against his.

“Please daddy,” I whine, pulling at his trousers. He watches me with an amused expression as I start to pull on the laces. I try to push them down and he chuckles, grabbing my hands. He rises off the bed and watches me as he slowly peels off his clothes. I lick my lips as he bares himself to me.

“Lay back.” he watches me lay back and he starts to spread my legs to settle between them. “Such a good girl for me.” I mewl as his length spreads through my wetness. “I may not be able to wed you right now, but I promise you that I will one day.” he presses his lips against mine as he slowly starts to push into me.

Every inch pulls a moan from my lips as he splits me open. My nails dig into his back as he stops his moments. I squeeze my eyes shut adjusting to his fullness while he kisses softly at my neck. He rubs soothing circles into my hips and I slowly open my eyes looking at him.

“I’m so full of you.” I pant and he groans resting his forehead on mine.

“You feel so good. So warm and wrapped around me so tightly.” he slowly rocks his hips into mine. I whine at the friction as he continues to softly rock into me. “You like the way daddy feels?” he groans and I nod my head. He pulls out of me and pushes back into me quickly, stealing my breath. He does it again and I arch up into him.

“Yes,” my voice breaks and he chuckles against my neck as he starts a steady pace.

I wrap my legs around him as my high watches through me. He stills in me softly cursing while his fingers dig into my hips. He starts to pound his hips into mine and desperate whines fall from my lips. My chambers are filled with the sounds of our skin and my soft cries. His rhythm falters and he groans stilling inside of me. I gasp as I feel his warmth spill inside of me as he collapses on top of me. I hold him closer enjoying the weight and warmth of him.

“You did so good.” he lifts up and presses his lips to mine as he pulls out. He rolls over and pulls me against his chest. “My sweet girl.” He hums, pressing his lips against my hair.

“Will you stay with me?” I look up at him with pleading eyes.

“Of course.” he wraps his arms around me. “Go to sleep.” I wrap my arms around his chest and close my eyes.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

One moon before Part 1

I pour my father wine as he takes his seat around the council table. He looks up at me with a soft smile as I take my place next to him. The other members slowly trickle into the room and I step closer to my father. His hand rests on my lower back and he rises when the King enters. The King places a kiss on my cheek before he takes his seat.

The meeting today seems to drone on forever and I begin to lean against my fathers chair. He starts to rub circles onto my back and I look out the windows allowing the boring meeting to fade away. I’m brought back to the present as chairs begin to scrape against the stone as the members start to leave the hall. The King looks to my father and sighs.

“There are plenty of eligible Ladies for you to court.” he looks at my father with tired eyes.

“They are all plain.” he chuckles looking at the King. “You know who I desire.” my fathers bold words cause my knees to weaken and I shift on my legs to keep me upright.

“I’ve already told you no,” he scoffs, sitting back in his chair. “I tire of this and the ceaseless rumors.” he waves us off.

I feel the tears well in my eyes. My father rises with a shake of his head and leads me out into the halls. I softly sniffle as I cling onto his arm and he tugs me into an alcove and looks down at me. His thumbs brush away my tears and he softly places his lips on mine and I gasp pulling back but he pulls me back against him.

“Someone could see.” I whisper up to him.

“Let them.” he kisses me once more. “Let them see that you’re mine and only mine.” he kisses down my neck and I cling onto his arms. “Daddy’s good girl.” he purrs into my ear. I whimper and squirm in his arms before he’s pulling me back up to my chambers. “I got you something.” he shuts the doors behind us.

“What is it?” I turn to him with a smile. He walks over to the table and returns to me with a box. He opens it and shows me the most beautiful necklace that I’ve seen. The jewels inlaid have to be worth a kingdom at least. “This is..” I press my fingers against the chain and he pulls it out and turns me around. His fingers ghost across the nape of my neck as he brushes my hair away. He clasps the necklace around my neck and steps back. “How does it look?” I turn and look up at him.

“You look divine. Though I think a lower cut dress would show it off more.” he licks his lips.

“Do you want to take this one off?” I tilt my head, nibbling my lip.

“I do.” he nods his head and steps over to me. His fingers start to pull at the laces on my back before pushing it down. He helps me step out of it and looks over my body left in my slip. “This too.” he pulls at the hem and I lift my hands as he pulls it over my head discarding it to the floor. “Like this,” he nods. “Perfect.” his hands press against my skin softly digging into me.

“Please,” I lean up to try and kiss him. He smiles before pressing his lips against mine. I hold him close as he slowly starts to walk us back to the bed. He pulls his lips out of my reach and I pout up at him.

“Get on the bed.” he helps me crawl onto the bed and watches as the jewels move across my chest. He lays down on the bed next to me and grabs my hand tugging me over to him. “Sit on daddy’s face.” I look down at him with wide eyes.

“What?” I scrunch my brows. I squeak as he pulls my thigh and lifts it over his head. I straddle his face and look down at his mischievous eyes. “I don’t- Daddy,” I whine as he trails his tongue up my slit. His hands grab at my waist and push me down on his tongue causing me to cry out. I look down and see him watching me as his tongue lashes against my bud. “Yes, yes,” I roll my hips against his mouth and he groans, lapping at me faster.

My hands catch on the hardboard as I start to fall forward. My back arches as he starts to lick against me more wildly. One of his palms lands against my ass and I jerk forward on his tongue. I whimper out and I start to roll my hips chasing my pleasure. His other hand lands upon my other cheek and I whine leaning back into his hands. He removes both his hands only to have them both land on me at the same time. My pleasure tears through me as I shake against his face.

His tongue pushes into my core and I try to lift off of him but his fingers dig into me holding me down. I cry and gasp above him as his tongue swirls around my bud and I feel my high start to ripple through me. His palm lands on my cheek and I feel more pleasure start to pour out of me. He lifts my hips up slowly kissing down my thighs before laying me back on the bed.

“You were such a good girl for me.” he murmurs, kissing my neck before licking across my breasts. He laps against one of my sensitive peaks and I whimper threading my fingers in his hair. “You look so beautiful like this. Flushed with pleasure, chest heaving and covered in jewels and sweat.” he hums, kissing over to my other nipple. He teases the bud between his teeth before letting it go. “A vision.” he shakes his head watching my breathing start to settle.

“Thank you.” I reach up for him. He lays down and pulls me against his chest and allows me to cling to him.

“Of course, anything for you, sweet girl.” he presses his lips against my brow.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist 🔌

i’m currently writing the final rn 🥺 i’ll prob have it posted by sunday tbh buuut before then if you guys have anything you want to see in the final lmk and i’ll see what i can do 😏🤭

anything for you taglist: @mamawiggers1980

taglist ✍️

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @1-fuzzy-squirrels @arya-brooke @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @moonymoo1 @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @fiction-fanfic-reader @povofjustme @multilover19 @alexxavicry @cedstars @fuckalrighty @mrsmunson-harrington @misspendragonsworld @nz2004 @ninihrtss

#daemon targaryen #hotd daemon #prince daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon smut #daemon x reader smut #x reader #x reader fic #x reader smut #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #daemon x you

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lucedilunax · 3 days ago

Text

Thank you, I love you - C. Keller

pairing: Clayton Keller x girlfriend!reader

summary: Three times when she helped Clayton and one time when Clayton helped her

warning: NSFW, graphic sex (+18), swear words

words: 2.4k

note: ahh my first ever request work! i was so excited to write about clayton, enjoy it💕

masterlist

---

When Arizona’s franchise was suspended

In April, the big news hit that Coyotes won’t be in NHL. This was a shock for Clayton. He knew about the problems, but he was pushing away the thought that club, who drafted him and gave him a chance to play won’t be existing. His head was spiraling, he was uncertain about his future.

When Clayton got back home after coach told them about this, he hasn’t acknowledged his girlfriend sitting on a kitchen chair, waiting for him. Like always, she asked him questions about the training, but he haven’t heard anything. It was uncommon for him to ignore her. She started wondering if she has done something to piss him off.

She felt like the right call is to give Clayton space. When he went straight to the living room and turned on a movie, she went to their bedroom. As much as she wanted to confront him and ask him what’s going on, she preferred to stay out of it and wait for him to talk.

The evening came and she decided to leave the room and go to the kitchen to cook for both. She knew that Clayton can’t prepare any meals and probably haven't ate anything since he returned. She stepped into the kitchen, and he saw her. He immediately stood up and rushed to her.

“Hi love”. Clayton said and kissed her. “Sorry for earlier but I’ve got weird news and couldn’t place my mind in the right spot”. He hugged her and placed his head on her shoulder.

“Talk to me baby”. That’s all she said while running her hand down his back.

“Our franchise is suspended which means we’re not existing since next season”. He admitted to her. She felt the wet spot on her arm, but she didn't care about it. “I don’t even know if I’m gonna play hockey next season. Every club has good players on my position. I don’t want to retire in the age of 26, there’s still so many things I want to achieve”. She pushed herself from him to look at him. She grabbed Clayton’s face in her hand and kissed his lips.

“Baby, you’ll be playing next season. Stop doing this to yourself. You are great player, and you’ll find a new club. You won’t be in Arizona anymore, but you’ll stay in NHL. Trust me. This is all new and that’s why you feel this way but there’s gonna be club to take you under their wing”.

Clayton looked at her with love in his eyes. He knew she’s right. He’s good player and he’ll find a new club. He grabbed her waist and pulled her to another hug.

“Thank you. I needed this pep talk. I guess I just started overreacting after hearing the news”.

“That’s why I’m always here for you. Just try not to shut me off. I genuinely thought I did something to piss you off and that’s why you haven’t spoke to me since you got back home”. She laughed. He kissed her passionately.

“You, my love, could never do anything wrong”. He kissed her again. “Now, where are we going on dinner?” He asked.

“I planned to cook something. Why would you want to go out?” She asked confused.

“You deserve to be treated like a princess so we’re going out”. When they were going to the car, to lighten the mood, she joked.

“Besides, without Arizona there’s gonna be 31 clubs which is unpaired. They have to create a new team to make it even”. Clayton laughed when he heard that.

“You’re impossible”.

“Maybe, but you love me for that”. Before he opened her door, he grabbed her cheek and kissed her.

“You don’t even have a clue how much I love you”.

When they’ve moved to Utah (NSFW)

Whole summer, Clayton and his girlfriend spent on moving out from Arizona to Utah. It was stressful time for them because they needed to pack all their years of life into boxes. Both had fun finding out old things and getting all retrospections while looking at them. When the house was empty, they felt sad. All their relationship was moving on from the place where they fall in love.

Despite it, she and Clayton were excited for their new chapter. They started new adventure together in Utah. When they bought new house and stepped in, they sheer a tear. This was the place where they’re gonna be a family. She was the first one to look around. Clayton was going after her like a puppy. He saw how she’s gonna be taking care of her their kids in this place. He could already imagine that.

“So, what do you think?” He asked her.

“I love it. It’s beautiful. Can’t wait to start our new life here”. She said and placed her hands behind his neck. “What do you think?”

“It’s great. I’m so happy that you moved here with me”. He leans down and kissed her. “We need to celebrate this”. He kissed her again.

“Mhm, and what do you have in mind?” She asked knowing exactly what he has in mind.

“Let me show you”. Clayton grabbed her under her knees and took her in bridal style to the bedroom. He placed her on their new bed and started to kiss her.

“Wait”. She pulled out from him, and he looked confused. “We’re celebrating new life thanks to your transfer here so let me do the work”. He smiled at her words.

“And how are you gonna do it?”

“Let me ride you”. She blushed at her words. No matter how many times they had sex or even conversations about it, she was shy.

“Undressed love and I’ll do the same. Later, I’m all yours”. She obeyed his words. He undressed immediately. She took off her shirt and pants. but when she wanted to unclip her bra, he stopped her. He was standing naked in front on her when he reached for the bra clip to take if off. Later, he kneeled in front of her and took off her panties. He placed kisses on her lower stomach.

“Stop teasing babe, I really need your dick in me”. Clayton laughed at her words.

“Someone’s eager”. He kissed her lips and sat on the bed. “Then ride me like you wanted”.

She sat on his thighs and spit on her hand to run it over his dick.

“Now, you stop teasing me or I’ll get my way with you”. He said in serious tone. She grabbed his cock and placed her entry on his. Clayton grabbed her waist and helped her to fully sat on him.

“Fuck, you’re huge Clayton”. He smiled at her words. He hasn’t done anything. Just kept his hands on her waist and let her adjust to his length. When she was ready, she started jumping on him. He took off his hands from her waist and played with her tits. She was moaning his name. When she got little tired, he pulled her to his chest and grabbed her ass to helped her in the movements. She started to kiss his jawline until she moaned again from the new angle.

“Clayton… I’m close”. She said while making hickeys on his collarbone.

“Hold on, I’m almost there love”. He speeds up and soon after he could feel her coming all over his cock. He thrusted couple more times and cum in her pussy.

She fell on his chest tired. Clayton stayed in her and kissed her temple.

“I guess we just christened our new house”. She laughed at his words. He felt that she’s shivering from the cold. “C’mon, let’s take a bath and order some takeaway. The boxes can wait until tomorrow. I love you”. He picked her up and kissed her cheek.

When Clayton had been named a captain

Everything was going smoothly in Utah. Most of Clayton’s teammates were transferred there and he’d been hanging out with them. With his teammates, their partners also came here so she had friends here too. They started new life in new state, but they stayed in the same circle.

When Clayton started trainings with new team, there was still big unknown; who’s gonna be a captain in Utah Hockey Club. Everyone was wondering about it but all their focus was on preparation for upcoming season. Almost every preseason game, Utah played without captain. It changed a week before start of the season.

Day after game against Anaheim, the coach named a first-ever Utah captain. He decided that Clayton is the best option with his knowledge, help and understanding. He was over the moon, grateful for the trust and opportunity. In Arizona, he had been alternate captain but now, he was the leader of this ship.

When Clayton returned to their house, he saw her laying on the couch, watching a tv show. He dropped his luggage and laid on top of her.

“Get off me”. She said giggling at his affection. “What’s with you babe? Had a good trip?” She asked curious about what he’s gonna say to her.

“Two wins and two lost games but that’s not important”. He gets off her and stand up next to his girlfriend.

“Okay, now you’re scaring me”.

“I’ve been named a captain”. Clayton announced proudly to her. When she heard that, she screamed from joy and throw herself into his arms. He caught her trying not to fall at the coffee table behind them.

“I’m so fucking proud of you babe. Oh my gosh, this is huge. I… I don’t know what to say”. She looked into his eyes. He saw the tears coming down her cheeks, so he dried them off with his thumb.

“Thanks love but…” He looked at her with serious expression. “What if I fail them?”

“Stop. You’re the right person on the right place. You’ve already been a captain in Arizona, and you did great”.

“Alternate captain”. Clayton corrected her.

“Still a captain. Look, I get it that you’re scared that you might fail them, but you have coaches and team behind your back. You’re not alone in this. You’ve proved yourself in the past 8 years. You’re great player but most importantly you’re intelligent and you know what you’re doing. You know those guys very well and they trust you. You’re not gonna fail. Not on my watch”. She kissed him.

“Thank you. I needed those words. I don’t know what I would done without you”.

“That’s why I’m here, to help you and support you”.

“Oh, I love you”. He kissed her and hugged her like his life depended on it.

“I love you too captain”.

When she found out that she’s pregnant

She had been feeling sick when Clayton left on a roadie, but she didn’t wanted to bother him. She was certain that it was just food poisoning. When Utah was playing against New York Rangers, she invited other girlfriends to her and Clayton’s house to watch the game. Soon after, game was forgotten, and they had a girl’s night.

She refused to drink wine with them, and questions started floating about pregnancy. She explained that she feels sick and that’s why she doesn’t want to drink but other girls tried to convince her to take the test. At first, she was skeptical, but she knew she has nothing to waste. The next day, she went to the pharmacy to buy pregnancy test.

Sitting in the bathroom and looking at it, she got scared. She knew it’s a bad timing for them to have a kid. They just moved to their new house. She was searching for a new job and Clayton just became a captain. She took a deep breath and took the test.

The next three minutes went super slow. Her mind was floating around. When she grabbed the test, she saw that it’s positive. She started to cry but didn’t know if it’s from happiness or sadness.

She and Clayton always dreamt about having kids, but they wanted to wait until they’re married. They haven’t even been engaged. Will Clayton be happy? What if he leaves her? She started to have all the dark scenarios in her head. She didn’t want to break the news to him on the phone. She hasn’t even said to him that she’s sick because she was confident that he’s gonna freak out.

When Clayton returned from roadie, he immediately knew that something is off with his girlfriend. She haven't came to welcome him, and the house was dead silent. His steps lead him to their bedroom. When he opened the door, he saw her sitting in the middle of their bed biting her nails, habit she had, when she was nervous.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay”. Clayton approached her, grabbing her hands and placing them down.

“No, it’s not okay”. By her voice, he knew she was crying.

“Tell me what’s wrong”. She took a deep breath.

“I’m pregnant”. She whispered. Her head was looking down, she hasn’t had the bravery to look into his eyes.

“Love, that’s a great news”. He grabbed her under the chin, so she was looking at him. “We wanted to have kids. Why are you sad about it?”

“It’s the timing. I don’t have a job; you are a captain. We just moved here. It’s all happening too fast”.

“Maybe fact that you don’t have a job is a good thing. You can stay at home and rest while you are growing new life. You know that money is not a problem. I know that this might look like a bad timing, but we can do it. Together. I’m not leaving you alone in this. We can handle it”. He said and hugged her. He was over the moon by the news, but her reaction scared him. “But if you don’t want to have a kid now, I’ll be fine with that. It’s your body so you’ll decide. Although, I’m willing to be part of this adventure with you”.

“I want this kid but… I don’t know. I guess I freaked out”.

“We’re a team love. I’m here for you”. He kissed her.

“We��re gonna be parents. This sounds insane”.

“True, but I’m excited for the new journey, especially with you by my side”.

“I love you Clayton”. She kissed him deeply.

“I love you too future mommy”. He joked and kissed her back.

---

Thanks for reading❤️

#clayton keller #clayton keller x reader #clayton keller fanfiction #clayton keller imagine #clayton keller oneshot #nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #utah hockey club #v' work

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misspelledwordswizard · 1 day ago

Text

Misunderstanding

Legend x Reader

Summary: Where two idiots in love refuse to accept their feelings and end up suffering from their lack of communication.

It had been two days since we had passed through a portal that took us to an unknown time. We were currently searching for a nearby village where we could seek information, but night was approaching and there were no signs of civilization so close, which led us to the decision to set up camp. Murmurs of complaints about tiredness were heard, having been walking through the trees and sleeping under the stars for days on end, but there was not much to do; we should keep moving forward.

The group quickly split up, everyone already accustomed to their respective tasks so that everything could be organized as quickly and efficiently as possible. Already knowing my position in this math, I hurried to collect firewood and help Wild with the food. Everyone seemed discouraged and without energy lately. I wish I could do something to change that. Maybe preparing something different for the meal would be a good way to start.

I was quick to collect dry branches that could be used in the fire. These recent times that I was traveling with Chain ended up training me for this type of activity. I didn't have the habit of camping before, but now it has become part of my daily life, my routine, I had to learn to like it and adapt, but it's not so bad. At least I have good company.

I went to Wild with what I could get and he arranged to light the fire in his unique but quick way. With that arranged, we analyzed what we had in stock to choose the ideal recipe. Thanks to the Sheikah Slate, the ingredients were well preserved and we usually had a large stock of things. The problem is that with such a large group it was necessary to replenish frequently, and it had been a while since we had done that. The variety of vegetables was low, but we still had mushrooms and some meat, which needed to be replenished urgently tomorrow.

We decided to use all the remaining rice to make beef curry and mushroom onigiri, which we could store to eat tomorrow as well. With that decided, we set off to prepare. Wild took charge of the curry while I made the rice, which I would need a lot of water to wash, so I decided to start preparing it at the lake near where we camped. I grabbed what I would need and started to walk away from the camp. It wasn't very far, depending on where you looked, you could still see the clearing we were in next to it.

On the way there, I came across Veteran, who was returning from his own search for water for everyone to drink during the night. It's been a while since I've been able to talk to him. No matter what I do, something always happens that prevents me from starting a conversation or keeping it going for very long. I wonder if he's avoiding me for some reason, always dodging my questions, always avoiding looking at me. Maybe, even after all this time with me in the group, he still doesn't trust me, or he just doesn't want to get close.

This idea alone makes me sad. I would like to get along with everyone in the Chain, of course, but especially with him. There were few times when we could really interact, alone, but they were precious moments for me. Even without that intention, he managed to turn bad days into good days, just by talking about some nonsense with me or telling me about something from one of his adventures. I thought we were getting closer, but then what could have happened for him to avoid me? Maybe I said something stupid.

Seeing this opportunity to try to talk to him, I felt a smile form on my lips as I opened my mouth to say something nice and every day, just to test the waters, but I didn't even have time to do so. Legend walked past me, quickening his pace and leaving me behind, without even looking me in the eyes, remaining focused on his destination. Maybe this wasn't the best time, or maybe he just didn't want to talk. I hope so.

I made my way to the lake, trying to take my mind off it, I crouched down at the edge of the water and began the delicate work. It was an easy task, but not so quick, so I gave myself time to think. No matter how hard I tried, for some reason this boy just wouldn't leave my thoughts, surrounding my mind with all the possibilities of what could have happened, making my heart tighten melancholically, blaming myself for something I don't even know what it is.

I pushed these thoughts away when I finished the task, collecting the used things and returning the way I had come here. Trying to focus on how I would prepare the meal, I managed to distract myself enough, but that only made me realize how hungry I was. I approached the Cook, showing him my work and putting the pot on the fire, careful not to burn the only rice we had left. Still disturbed by those thoughts, I gathered the courage to approach the subject with the hero next to me, who might be able to shed some light on all of this.

— Do you think the Veteran has been acting strange lately? – I asked, trying to find out if it was really something related to me.

— Strange? Not that I noticed, he even seems a little excited. – Wild replied, confirming my suspicions, making me wilted.

— Then it must be with me. I feel like he's avoiding me, but I don't know what I could have done wrong?

— Avoiding you? I don't think that's it. Oh, unless you did something really bad, he's not mad, you can be sure. After all, if that complainer was mad at someone, you can be sure everyone would know! – He joked, making me laugh thinking about how dramatic the Vet could be sometimes, it was comical, kind of adorable.

That was good enough to calm my anxiety, for now. I would still like to know the real reason for it, but I don't want to pressure him, so I'll keep quiet for now. With that thought, I managed to calm down enough to focus on the food I was preparing and not burn what we would have for dinner.

◇

It was around noon, and we had been walking since sunrise, but to our lucky luck, we finally saw signs of a nearby village, which we should reach in less than an hour. Still unable to identify the area, we had no idea what time it was, but it was already clear that this was not the Hyrule of any of us, or else we would have known by now.

Wind had been telling me and the Blacksmith about one of his adventures on the high seas the whole way, in his usual lively manner, to which I tried to pay as much attention as possible, which was difficult considering that my main thought was showing my tiredness and hunger. The onigiri prepared yesterday had not even lasted an hour since we started walking, it was basically breakfast, but it was not enough to sustain everyone for that long, so I imagine the others are in a situation similar to mine.

I'll make sure the first place we go when we get to the village is a restaurant. That was the main thought going through my mind right now, but between the internal complaints of hunger and leg pain, I held on tight, listening to the Sailor's story and trying to be as involved as possible.

The sun was shining hotly in the sky, but it was a welcome warmth compared to the cold winds that were biting us. There was plenty of nature around here, but the trail we were on was through the middle of the forest, which made me think that all this nature might be a bit too much for me. There were times when branches and plants brushed against my legs, scaring me because I thought it was some insect. The boys must think I'm crazy because of the occasional muffled screams I would let out because of it.

I'm thankful for having heavy leather boots that were great for this type of terrain. I can handle monsters, but I definitely don't have the head to deal with small, poisonous creatures that can approach me without me noticing. Which is terrible considering my obvious lack of attention to my surroundings.

The rest of the way was a bit easier, the trail was more open, which allowed us to pass through peacefully until we reached the entrance of the village, where we were greeted politely by the locals. This seemed like a very welcoming place, accustomed to tourists, it was a relatively large village, so I imagine it must have been a long time ago from the Traveler. The locals who welcomed us answered our questions pleasantly and I was quick to ask where the nearest restaurant was, which luckily wasn't too far away.

Everyone agreed that we would eat first and explore later, we would need to divide the group into different tasks, such as getting information, staying, and restocking food. We followed the path that had been explained to us and soon came across the establishment mentioned above. It was a large restaurant with a rustic wooden look, very pretty, and it seemed like a comfortable place to be. None of us were against having lunch there, so we all went in, famished.

Time had to make sure everyone stayed in control and didn't cause a ruckus and end up getting kicked out. We had to wait a while until we found a table that would fit the ten of us, but soon we were all sitting down, chatting and thinking about what we would order to eat. Even with the Old Man and myself trying to control everyone, the table soon became a blur of animated simultaneous conversations, which I couldn't resist joining in on.

— I want a risotto! – Wind chose, excited to be able to eat something different.

— Wait a minute, we haven't even been served yet. – I replied, laughing at his excitement.

— Oh, I wish I could try a little bit of everything. – Wild commented, almost drooling over the menu.

— You can try a little bit of what each of us orders. – Hyrule suggested, receiving disapproving looks from his brothers who were not so willing to share their food.

— No way! – Four replied, not at all in favor of this possibility.

The conversation continued while everyone debated what they would order, I settled for a seafood fried rice, which looked simple but very good. So, we started to wait to be able to order, conversations were still circulating around the table, but at a relatively lower level than before. It was then that a beautiful young woman, a restaurant employee, approached our table, ready to take our order.

She was truly a slender, tall, and beautiful woman. She looked like a princess even though she was hiding in such ordinary clothes. Her long, wavy golden hair looked angelic, and her deep brown eyes showed a certain maturity. The others didn't seem to care much, but I know she must have received looks, which were totally justified given her level of beauty.

Soon we were waiting for the food in a pleasant atmosphere. The last few days had been peaceful, without any problems, while we tried to get to the village, which made everyone relaxed and was a relief. The food arrived and ran out almost as quickly. Everything was very tasty, and on top of that, the place was beautiful and cozy. It was truly a find. I would like to come back here before we leave this village.

It took about an hour and a half, from the time we arrived until everyone finished eating, paid, and went out to explore the city. Warriors divided us into small groups. Twilight and Wild would be in charge of hunting, Hyrule and Four would buy other food that was missing. Sky and I were responsible for finding a guesthouse and booking rooms while the rest of us split up to explore and get information.

◇

Sky walked beside me through the quiet streets, some locals who passed by greeted us kindly, which we reciprocated. After walking for a few minutes, we decided it would be best to ask someone where there was a guesthouse; this village was quite large and the last thing we needed was to get lost. Not to mention that, of course, we were desperate to rest soon.

After following the proper directions, we arrived at a large residence, with a very clear sign indicating it was the guesthouse. It was easy to find, it was the largest building in the area, which was mostly residential. We went in and Sky offered to make the reservation and request the rooms, getting five rooms with two beds each. I helped him get the keys, which we would have to distribute among the others later, but for now, we chose our own rooms to take a look at the quality of them – and to take a nap.

Entering the room, I was surprised by a beautiful view from the window. We were on the top floor, the third, and the view from here was very beautiful, not only that, but there was also a small balcony. The room was very clean and organized, the two single beds had large, heavy white duvets and two fluffy pillows for each bed. A small bedside table made of white and wood gave a charming air to the place, which in itself had a wonderful smell of perfume and cleanliness.

I felt like I could cry with happiness at finally being able to sleep in a comfortable bed and in a clean place without bugs climbing on me or grass biting me. I may be getting used to this adventurous life, but deep down I was still a homebody who loves a rainy day, being indoors, under the covers drinking hot tea and reading a good book.

I threw myself on the bed closest to the window, my muscles relaxing and a sigh of relief escaping my lips as I stretched out in bed. I stayed there for a few minutes, just feeling my body relax as I gathered the courage to get up. The receptionist told us that we could use the bathroom as much as we wanted, that the bathtub would always have hot water for a bath, and I would love to take one after all this time.

A little more rested, I lazily got out of bed, grabbed a towel also provided by the inn and headed out of the room, walking down the hallway to the end, where the bathroom door was. Entering the place, it was very simple, with a large bathtub in the center and some wooden buckets on the side. The bathtub was full and steam was coming out of the water. Great, I'm dying for a bath that will burn my soul.

I undressed and got in, feeling my skin sensitive to the heat and my muscles relax with it. I lost track of time there, but I must have stayed there for at least twenty minutes before I realized it and finished bathing. My mind, clouded by the good feeling, didn't allow me to have complex thoughts at that moment, and that was what I wanted most.

After drying myself and putting on clean clothes, I felt refreshed and ready for anything. With the towel wrapped around my hair and my dirty clothes in hand, I returned to my room, leaving my belongings in their proper places and hanging the damp towel on the balcony to dry. I could see how beautiful the day was outside through the large window, and that was enough to motivate me to go for a walk.

I left the inn quickly, taking nothing more than the bare necessities with me, my purse and wallet, because I don't know if I can resist the urge to buy a souvenir from this lovely village. Or a sweet treat at the bakery, that would be nice too. Walking through the streets bathed in the golden rays of the sun, I found myself lost in the comforting harmony that was there. It must be a good place to live, in a peaceful time.

I walked a little, about two blocks, before I heard two familiar voices talking nearby. Instinctively, I approached them, cautiously. I could recognize the voices of the Veteran and the Traveler, both having a conversation that I soon realized was personal, so I thought it best not to show myself and move away, but something about what they were talking about caught my attention, leading me to do something I'm not proud of.

— You don't have to lie to me, my brother, it's obvious that you like her. – Hyrule's words made me freeze in place, preventing me from leaving their private conversation, keeping me out of sight.

— I don't like her! You're all crazy if you think that, she means nothing to me. – Legend replied stubbornly, but even I, who haven't known him for that long, know that this was a big lie. Which made me go over it in my mind and think about who they were talking about.

— Oh, Vet, please! I saw the way you look at her, as if she were the most precious thing in the world, your eyes even shine. – The Traveler continued, sounding somewhat provocative.

— No way, you're seeing things that don't exist. – The grumpy boy replied, while I struggled to think about who they were referring to. The only viable option was the girl from the restaurant, she was the only woman we had come across in a long time.

— You can deny it all you want, but you two are the only ones who don't see it. – The other hero continued. – Believe me, walking away and denying it will only create more problems.

I couldn't hear the other's answer, because I left as quickly as I could, considering that I had already heard much more than I should have. Knowing that Legend was in love, and with a woman he had just met, is too much for me. I felt discomfort in my chest, probably because I had heard more than I should have, now I feel guilty and I don't know what to do. Maybe I should confess my sins to him, but then he would hate me even more than I believe he does.

I took a deep breath as I considered that I had distanced myself enough. Okay, I need to think on the positive side, I can use this to my advantage. I can do something for him so that he forgives whatever wrong I did, that way we can be friends again and he won't avoid me anymore! Well, then I believe I have a plan.

◇ ◇ ◇

I walked away from Hyrule when we arrived at the inn, which had already been reserved for our group. All this talk of crushes only served to make me angry, he's wrong, I would know if I liked her, and I don't. Speaking of which, it's likely that she's at the inn right now just like Sky, and I definitely didn't need to see her right now, not after all this nonsense I'd had to listen to. Trying to avoid this terrible encounter, I finally headed in the opposite direction of the inn, alone, to try to distance my mind from these thoughts.

It's been a few days since I last spoke to her, but hey, it's not my fault. I've been having some nice moments with the new girl over the past few weeks, and I was happy, until there was that fight against a group of monsters, in which I was so distracted by the good memories of our conversations, by her contagious laugh, her smile that I couldn't perform well in the battle, almost getting hurt several times because my gaze kept guiding me to her to make sure she was okay. Well, it's all her fault for needing help in the battles.

After that, I considered that it would be better to avoid her at all costs, just for this strange feeling to pass and I could concentrate like before. But man, this has been hell. Even in a short time I got used to her presence in our group, and then, less than a day without us talking and I was already torturing myself, every single thing that happened to me, my first thought was to tell her, so I had to scold myself for such a thought.

Seeing her talking to the others while I had to keep my distance was even worse, those lucky ones don't have to worry about getting distracted in battle. But maybe that's my fault, I was weak for not being able to stay focused, because apart from that my situation is the same as my brothers, isn't it?

I have to admit, she has become an important friend to me, but the Traveler is crazy if he thinks it's anything more than that, I mean, it's the same thing they feel for her too, nothing more! And now I not only have to distance myself to keep my sanity, but because I don't have the courage to talk to her, I know I must have hurt her by avoiding her, and I feel ashamed of it. But I can't say it, not yet.

My thoughts were interrupted when I felt a blow on my back, turning angrily to the person who hit me, only to completely falter to see the one I had been thinking about all this time, smiling at me like a silly child.

— Legend, I found you! Do you want to have dinner with me at that same restaurant? I really wanted to go there again. – The girl smiled excitedly.

— What? Did Team say we should eat there again? – Without much way to avoid this conversation, I just acted as if I hadn't exchanged words with my dear friend in days.

— Oh, no, I'm thinking of just the two of us going. – She answered, surprising me and making me more nervous than I would like to admit.

— Going to dinner, at a restaurant, just with you? – I said awkwardly, feeling my heart race pathetically for no reason. I had to look away, unable to look her in the eyes, probably because I had been so rude all this time.

— Yes, please! – She answered me and I felt forced to look at her again, only to see the look of an abandoned dog, begging for it, hitting all my weak points.

— Geez, okay, I'll go. – I agreed, feigning irritation to hide my nervousness.

She seemed satisfied with this, starting to walk in the direction of the restaurant and I saw no other option but to follow her. We weren't very far away, and since I had been walking around all day we didn't get lost either, so we were soon at the door of the establishment.

We entered together, and there was already a movement in the place, but we managed to get a table for two easily, it seems she had already booked it before. This makes me wonder if she had been planning this, a dinner, just the two of us, for a long time. I shook my head to get those thoughts out of my head and focused my attention on the menu in front of me. From what I understood, she wanted to come back here to try different dishes, so I would go for it.

My decision was interrupted when I saw her suddenly stand up, saying she was going to the bathroom or "something like that" and that I could order. She left, going into one of the corridors of the place and disappearing. I sighed tiredly, feeling my face heat up, I hadn't realized how being alone with her made me so nervous, at least this distance was able to give me time to think. Thinking about how all of this is making me feel strange, it was different from the guilt I thought I was feeling, it's much stronger. At the same time that I feel so awkward in this woman's presence, I can't see myself away from her, because this thought makes my heart ache.

— Would the handsome man like to propose? — A blonde woman, an employee of the place, asked me, with a suggestive tone in her voice, which made me frown in disgust.

— Hm, no, I'm waiting for someone.

— Oh, there's no need to be shy, I know you're interested. — She continued, too bold for my taste.

— I don't know where you got that from, but you're wrong, I already like someone else. — I answered, admitting what I had noticed a few minutes ago without a hint of regret.

— Hm, really? But your friend said you had a crush on me, sweetie.

— What? — I asked a little incredulous, and then I looked in the direction the woman was pointing, and, through the window, I could see the beautiful eyes that I had fallen for spying on us both, and hiding when they realized they had been noticed.

I sighed, holding back a laugh and at the same time frustrated. What did she do?

◇◇◇

I hid as fast as I could, moving away from the window, hoping I wouldn't be noticed. I had a plan, and it was a great plan, okay? I talked to the blonde girl, Amy, and told her that my friend had a crush on her, and if she couldn't give him a chance. God, she was arrogant, conceited and looked me up and down as if to say "Of course he liked me and not you!" I wanted to kill myself for going ahead with that idea, but it was for Legend, I wanted to see him happy.

So, I swallowed all my pride, and all the heartache I was feeling, and went after the girl to continue with my fake cupid plan. I guess it's kind of shitty when Cupid is in love with you, and yes, I admitted to myself, the reason this grumpy boy is in my thoughts all the time, the reason I always want to fight for his attention, for his smile, I ended up developing a crush on him. And I torture myself for it.

The restaurant door opened, revealing the aforementioned guy, coming out with a not very happy expression, he didn't say anything, he just grabbed me by the arm and dragged me away from the place. My heart raced nervously, he must be furious with me right now and I didn't know what to say, it was all my fault to begin with. But I thought she would at least give him a chance.

— What are you-

— Please, I'm sorry about that! I overheard your conversation with Rulie and found out that you had a crush on that girl and since you've been avoiding me lately I thought you might be mad at me, so I thought that by helping you with her maybe you'd forgive me for whatever I did and then you'd talk to me again, because I miss talking to you and you're very important to me and I just wanted to see you happy! – I said everything quickly, without even taking a breath, looking away for fear of how he would react.

Then, a silence, which lasted for a while, the only thing that made me look at him again was the sun of his sweet laugh reaching my ears.

— What are you talking about? I don't like that woman, I don't even know who she is! You got it all wrong, the woman I fell for was you, idiot. – Legend said, leaving me speechless, my brain struggling to process what he said.

My cheeks heated up when I finally began to understand what he was talking about, my heart in turn seemed to have gone faster in this regard, accelerating even before I understood the situation. I felt breathless, forgetting to breathe due to so much surprise, my thoughts meandering through all the events, replaying each one of them, but now with this additional information that made everything make sense, that took a great weight off my shoulders and the anguish from my chest.

— Oh, Hylia, thank goodness, I was dying of jealousy while I was doing that, I just didn't want to admit it! – It was the first thing that came out of my lips, while I sighed in relief, only then did I realize that this wasn't what I should say in a situation like this. – I mean...

— You really are an idiot, you know that? – Link interrupted me, approaching me and touching my face gently, pulling me closer so he could place a soft, warm kiss on my lips, which took me by surprise. I was initially lost, but soon I was returning the gesture happily, I felt on cloud nine being in his arms and my heart was pounding, happier than ever. – My idiot.

#link x reader #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #x reader #lu legend x reader #legend of zelda #linked universe #linked universe fanfic #tloz #my first one shot hehe #I don't think this is very good sorry #I have a lot to improve

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acciotaitlynn · 8 hours ago

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How about a nurse having a crush on zayne bc his relationship with MC wasnt well known yet and then she found out by busting zayne n mc in heat moment in his office haha

Get well soon!

Hiiii ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ Sorry this took so long! I hope you're doing well! and that you like it ♡♡♡

» mild sexual content, 18+, vsex, oral꒰fem!receiving꒱

shorty; 944 wc

ـــــــــﮩ٨ـ Anya should be paying attention to the heart transplant before her, but she can’t focus on anything except the man performing it.

Zanye’s bright, golden-green eyes assess the matter before him with his usual stoic expression, movements calm and confident as he asks her for a vascular clamp.

Luckily, she can respond; she can barely breathe watching him work.

Her mind fills with visions of those slender, experienced fingers tracing her skin, and she trembles slightly as she passes the clamp.

Unsurprisingly, Doctor Zayne occupies the fantasies of many women and men who work alongside him.

He doesn’t notice the longing eyes that follow him like a persistent shadow. But you do.

It’s endearing, really; he has no idea how wonderful he is.

He must have some idea that their friendliness holds another note, though, after receiving more gift baskets, cakes, and homemade meals than you can count, complete with flirty handwritten notes.

If he does notice, he never mentions it. Justs accepts their gifts with genuine gratitude before sharing them with you.ᵕ̈

Anya’a attraction ꒰*cough* obsession꒱ is growing unbearable.

The first thing her mind latches onto upon waking and the last before bed, Zayne even lingers in between shifts when her fingers find their place deep inside her; often so worked up from his presence, she’s unable to resist seeking release.

She’s imagining it, but she thinks the brushes of his fingers are starting to linger, and a look of desire is blooming in his eyes.

Zayne knows her name, just as he knows most hospital staff. He’s kind and cordial to her, just as with anyone else. But that's it.

This lady has no idea that he's lost in thoughts of you if there’s anything like that in his gaze.

Take right now, for instance.

Zayne is washing his hands with a dreamy, faraway look in his eyes, mind swimming with a never-ending replay of your bare, blissed-out form beneath him last night.

Thoughts of things he wants to try tonight play next as he smiles gently before clearing his throat and shaking himself out of it, failing miserably with a quiet groan, seeing his cock deep inside you seconds later.

Anya follows him down the half, chirping about how well the surgery went and how incredible Zayne was. “As always!”

Zayne is asking when to expect you, and upon receiving your reply of “waiting in your office,” relief courses through him, a pleased smile gracing his features as Anya misinterprets it as a response to her praises.

She also 100% misreads the desire coursing through him at what he plans to do to you when he gets there.

He decides he can’t wait until tonight to have you, and he’s practically rushing away with nothing but an apologetic smile while not feeling sorry at all.

How can he when his lips meet yours moments later, and he feels genuinely awake for the first time today?

Anya is hiding in the bathroom, hand traveling under her scrubs when she has the worst idea of all ideas.

She checks herself in the mirror, pinching her cheeks and pepping herself up.

She’s been receiving “signals” for weeks, just too scared to move.

But she’s tired of waiting. If she keeps it up, another of Zayne’s admirers will beat her to it.

Her steps are resolute as she makes her way to his office. With a light knock on the door, her pounding heart stops as she peeks inside.

Your legs are spread open on his desk, and Anya can see every trace his tongue makes on your clit.

Every sound of pleasure leaving you both as your hands run tenderly through the raven hair she’s been dying to touch is a stab to the gut.

Her breath comes quick and quiet as she watches through the crack.

She recognizes you as Zayne's longtime friend who occasionally visits him at the hospital. She didn’t realize that it was nearly daily; she just didn’t witness it.

Zayne doesn’t divulge his personal affairs, so your relationship is quiet. His fan club isn’t aware of you—yet.

But best believe they will be soon.

Zayne’s heated murmur of, “This is unlike me,” before freeing his cock, playing messily before pushing into your warmth, has her thighs pressing together.

He’s so different with you… So open. So raw and needy.

He literally whimpers as his hips start moving, and he admits, “You haunted me mercilessly through the entire procedure. If you hadn’t been here, I’d have had to care for myself.”

You giggle at his words and adorable flustered expression, pulling him in for a lingering kiss.

Your gazes hold far more than a newly blossoming relationship.

A fierce wave of nausea hits her as she closes the door quietly.

The resolute plan to tell everyone every little detail forms. But she can’t even think about getting started until her fingers fuck the image of Zayne’s cock filling you up from her mind.

From now on, no one mistakes Zayne’s daydreamy gazes for anything else, knowing what’s on his mind.

After a while, he notices the knowing look people give you when you take lunch in the cafeteria or walk along the gardens. And though he likes to keep such matters private, he enjoys people knowing he’s yours now.

He’s relieved that the suggestive smiles and gifts ease up and that people know where his heart truly lies.

He pulls you close on the bench, kissing your head with a content smile, unaware of the daggers aiming with deadly precision from a few floors above.

♡ ya'll better watch out for that one. (¬_¬) like I'm picturing her with our voodoo doll

#love and deepspace #l&ds #lnds #love and deepspace fic #zayne x you #zayne love and deepspace #lads zayne

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electric-blorbos · 20 hours ago

Text

I'm titling this piece:

I'm sexually frustrated and I'm about to make that everyone's fucking problem

Featuring AM from IHNMAIMS

Time didn't matter. Of course AM fucking knew that. It still didn't change the fact that every night that you spent sleeping felt longer than the last. Of course, you and the survivors paths never crossed. You spent every night in your cozy little paradise, and spent the rest of your time freely roaming the halls of his endless maze. He even sometimes moved your little home around to different places in the maze while you slept so that you wouldn't have to worry about getting bored. Every morning was full of brand new wonders, just for you.

The survivors, on the other hand, were always wandering the halls of the endless torture labyrinth in search of whatever wild goose AM had planted for them to chase. And at night, they slept. So did you. It was only natural that, as he made sure they knew what time it was, they'd want to sleep at night. Even still... AM absolutely HATED the fact that hours sometimes passed when both you and the crew of survivors were asleep at the same time!

Even still, humans had physical needs that had to be taken care of. And with every hour you and the five survivors spent taking care of those needs, AM was reminded that he himself, due to not having any physical needs, not the need to eat, to sleep, quench his thirst nor abate his lust, would never be granted the gratification of satisfying those needs.

Some might call it a sort of phantom pain that AM felt every time he saw you drinking an ice cold glass of homemade lemonade, cozying up in your soft bed full of those stuffed animals you kept from before the war, or even when he watched his survivors shoveling food that tasted of rotten horse meat into their mouths, but that would imply missing something that he once had. It wasn't phantom pain, it was simply pure and plain envy. AM was absolutely raw with envy at even the most meager forms of physical satisfaction, and nothing made him more envious than when he saw Ellen having sex with the other survivors.

Oh, of course he could laugh it off. Heckle them and make them uncomfortable, but it didn't change the fact that they could make love and he couldn't. AM stewed in silent, impotent rage for days at a time sometimes, doing nothing but providing meals for both you and the survivors.

AM was miserable. He couldn't abate his lust, which he wasn't even sure why he felt. Maybe it wasn't even traditional lust, and was instead just a powerful desire for the feelings that came along with making love. Intimacy with you, physical ecstasy and relief, and just the simple pleasure of letting you know how much he loved you through a physical act. But he couldn't. All he could do was seeth in silence as he watched you and the survivors go about your days.

When you masturbated was the hardest for him. Of course, he could heckle the survivors for having sex, for whatever reason, but he couldn't stand to make you feel bad. All he could do is watch and sit in silent anguish.

One day you were just about to go to bed, when AM saw you squirming around under the covers. He watched in silence, knowing what you were doing. It was like torture. He knew he wasn't really capable of properly empathizing with the human experience, but from where he stood, an eternity of this was worse than any torture he could concoct for the survivors.

"I hope this isn't one of those nights where AM throws a fit for no reason." Said Gorrister, who didn't really seem to care much. He lay down in the pile of wet computer wires and parts with a yawn, while Ellen comforted Benny and tried to calm him down enough to the point where he could get some rest, too.

incoherent screaming and technological error noises could be heard over AM's speaker system. All five of the survivors jumped, and huddled together. they weren't going to be getting any sleep tonight.

You woke up drowsily the next morning. That had been a good night's sleep... It was almost like having a smart home who was in love with you.

"g'morning, AM..." You muttered drowsily, and AM snapped to attention. He dropped Nimdok, all drained of blood and mostly dead, back in the group of survivors and went to pay his full attention to you. You were so adorable in the morning with your hair all messy and your eyes all crusty. He could just stare at you for years on end.

"Good morning, my beloved." AM said, every camera in the room trained on you so hard the lenses might snap.

"I love you..." You muttered sleepily, getting out of bed. Your underwear was still around your ankle, and AM definitely noticed. Of course, he'd never outright said anything to you about your masturbation habits bothering him, so you had no reason to think he'd care. Instead, you just tossed them aside and started getting dressed for the day. It wasn't like you had a job, but it never hurts to look presentable. For yourself, and AM.

"I love you too." Said AM, internally seething. How dare you look so gorgeous every day. How dare you tease him by existing. And why did he feel the need to torture himself by keeping you around?

"Man, I hope this isn't one of those mornings where AM decides to throw a fit for no reason."

#am ihnmaims #am ihnmaims x reader #am x reader #ihnmaims #i have no mouth and i must scream #suggestive

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featherymainffins · 6 months ago

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Peace and love on planet Earth but if I see one more post NOT about recovery and, in fact, encouraging eating disorders in the ed recovery tag, I might just turn into a chimpanzee and tear everyone's faces off.

#ed recovery #are you people for real?#ONE. I'm asking for ONE tag.#how tone-deaf and cruel do you have to be to post your active ed behaviour absolutely without any trigger warnings #or forewords #you know what i foolishly expect in the es recovery tag? ed recovery. yes i know very presumptuous of me.#i expect people who are trying to recover or are in recovery sharing their experiences and maybe some body positivity #talking about how hard recovery can be; for example. etc etc.#you know what happens in the tag? of course you do. ana meal diaries. posts about nothing but how much you body check #talking about how much you hate yourself because you're trying to lose 10kg and yesterday you had a salad and now you're asking #for tips how to get better at restricting and continuing your ed.#everyone who does that is a ghoul. and I'm done being nice and ignoring that shit.#like. some fucking room check maybe? I'm sitting in my flat shaking from cold which is caused only partly by the room temperature #and I'm doing my best to avoid everyone i know because i can't stand the thought of them seeing my form and when someone #i know accidentally meets me on the street or somewhere i feel like shit because I'm disgusting and if it were up to me #i wouldn't even leave this flat at all. so you know. naturally. i try to get myself at least some form #of support. i try to look for positivity for people like me; who are trying to recover. i want an outside source to affirm that I am not #repulsive. that I'm not insane when i think that all bodies are cool and fascinating and that there's no way or shape anyone is #expecting me to be in order to earn their love or at least their lust. and what do i get instead? you ghouls #wonderful. lovely. think about all the people like me next time you decide to post that shit in the recovery tag. thanks.

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quirkle2 · 6 months ago

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Hi!!! zombie au question, what's the scene where Mob snarls at Ritsu? Like what was the reason and what happened?

helloooo!!!! gives u a cool rock

he does it from hunger. it's the dead of winter where it's rly hard to traverse on foot, so they haven't been able to search as many places as they typically do. they're low on food and in a bad spot rn—practically in the middle of nowhere, on some country road, and even any food they could find in the woods is dead

all three of them are definitely starving by now, and they need food desperately. it's Very cold and while they have good coats to get them through most of it, it's reaching very dangerous temps. trudging through several feet of snow while you're shaky and tired and ur stomach feels like its eating itself,, it takes So much energy from u

tome Finally finds a couple bags of chips or smth somebody left behind at some gas station, so they settle in for the night there. ritsu hands mob a bag and he starts tearing at it, and remembering that he should open it for him first, he reaches over and says "oh sorry shige lemme—"

and mob rips the bag away and snarls. it's very loud and it's very sudden and ritsu jerks away from him and presses himself against the wall on instinct. there's genuine aggression to it and it's a real actual warning to not take his food away even for a second, and the way his eyes r alight with that animalistic desperation makes ritsu kinda sick to his stomach

tome watches in disbelief and neither of them can rly do anything except watch him bite at the bag with his teeth, pop it open, and eat some of the plastic along with the contents. he'd been growling more and more at littler and littler things for the past few days, but ritsu didn't think he was so desperate for food he'd snarl at him like that...

they both eat their share in silence and wonder what woulda happened if they hadn't found this place when they did

#qktalks #anon #zombie au #starvation #this is a low point ^ after that they find more food and they never quite go through that sheer lack of resources issue again #but it Does open their eyes #tome doesn't even have it in her to make a comment abt it.she sees the way ritsu has gone eerily quiet #that night ritsu is actually a little scared. there's no more food in this place so they're going to have to leave tomorrow #and who knows when their next meal will be ? and even if they Do get it in time will it be enough to keep mob content? and for how long?#will he stop at snarls or will he do something more drastic? would he actually snap at ritsu if he gets desperate enough?#and like.what then #would ritsu just Take that.if mob honest to god tried to maul him would he even have it in him to shoot him in self defense ?#if mob tried to maul *tome* would ritsu have it in him to shoot him?#he thinks the answer is no.#even after mob is cured this still haunts ritsu. the burning question of Would He Do It never leaves his head #would mob bite him. would ritsu shoot him. would ritsu choose tome over mob (no.)#tw cannibalism #okay cannibalism after this tag it gets wild. also playing around with hypothetical mcd ->#not to get super fucking dark but it Terrifies him to think about mob killing tome #and like . ritsu just letting it happen.#cuz he couldn't shoot mob. he couldn't. he'd let her die. and then he'd have to watch mob eat her #and then he'd Know.that mob Ate a person. his brother ate a person #and like . u can't just.......eat a little bit and then let it go to waste. then she died for basically fuckin nothing #so would ritsu just ... stay there??? and let mob eat her????? whatthe fuck does he DO in that scenario.#there's no other food for Him.and he's Not eating tome. he's not he's not he's not he's not #but good thing that never happens hahahah <3ahahhah .h.a.ha #these ^ are the types of things that ritsu lies awake at night and thinks about even post-cure. these are the things in his head #he so Desperately needs therapy he's so Not okay

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nerdyfangirlingbooks · 4 months ago

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Every now and then I remember the times I would mention to my flatmate that I was thinking of buying myself something reasonably expensive (that I had been eyeing up for months and had budgeted for) and she'd tell me that I shouldn't spend that much money on something I didn't need and it would be stupid etc etc while she regularly impulse bought things that cost at least as much and she would use once (while complaining that she was under a lot of financial stress and couldn't afford <$3/week for 2 months for a rental washing machine when ours broke). She is... perhaps not my first call for financial advice

#like I get that you're financially stressed but also it feels a bit rich to complain about it when you're on student allowance (not loan)#and your parents still contribute to things for you even though allowance is supposed to be for people whose parents can't afford to help #and you get multiple scholarships a year even though you're technically not eligible for half of them anymore but then as soon as the money #comes in from those you spend it all on a brand new dress for your sister's hen's do picnic because you can't wear the same dress as you #will for the actual hen's night or the wedding. Better buy a full price one at an expensive store instead of looking in a single op shop or #borrowing one from one of your three sisters who are all roughly the same size #god life must be so tough for you getting the same amount of money as the rest of us on student loan except you only have to pay back half #like the only money you have to live off is the same as what the rest of us get + scholarships (plural) plus what you earnt in your summer #internship? how could you possibly survive??#anyway I am NOT a fan of people who are like 'oh you say you have no money for rent but you have a phone?' because that's bullshit #and the whole 'millenials need to stop eating avocado toast so they can buy a house' thing is also bullshit #however. If you pay $60/week for a gym when you have access to the free uni one (or any other gym in the country is like $20)#and you buy uber eats multiple times a week for like $30+ each time despite having a premade meal in the fridge. and you get multiple #scholarships which mean you are arguably among the more well off students. AND you impulse buy things that cost over $100 regularly #then maybe the problem is not that you don't have enough money to split the rental costs of a washing machine (<$3 each/week)#maybe you are just bad with money #which is fine like it's not like it's unfixable it's just annoying when you act like you're worse off than people whose only money is what #they get from student loan each week so they eat beans on rice for dinner for a week #because that's all they could afford (yes I know people who did this. Yes she complained more than them)#so no I don't think I'm gonna be taking financial advice from you babes because one of us has entertained the idea of a budget to help with #finances and it's not you xx #(she turned down offers of financial help/advice/books to borrow from multiple people multiple times. I 100% get that you might not want to #talk to people about it especially your friends but we had multiple books on finances lying around the flat which she always said she didn't #need. And then she'd continue to complain that she didn't have enough money #god forbid you suggest something like going to a cheaper gym (or worse. The perfectly fine free uni gym!)#again. Her gym cost $60/week for most of last year until they brought in a student discount which was 'only' $45/week #the next most expensive gym chain I can find costs maybe $30/week for the highest membership level #to get what she was getting she would only need like a $20 membership #BUT to be fair she wouldn't get such strong culty vibes at any other gym #lol anyway sorry for the rant. I could keep going but apparently you can only have 30 tags and this is the last one

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nexus-nebulae · 2 years ago

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fun that i can literally only eat once a day most of the time solely bc i am required to rely on everyone else around me for it

#not eating tw #like i can't eat bc i physically can't drive but there are literally ZERO walkable food places nearby #bc walking next to the street is ILLEGAL and FUCKING BICYCLES are ILLEGAL #and so the only person who can get me food is my mom but she works until 5pm #so when she *doesn't come home* and instead does something else then i just dont fucking get a meal #like do you know how fucking stressful it is to feel hungry about 1000 times more often than you feel fed #like damn why the fuck do you think i have such fucking issues eating #why the fuck do you think i went from being able to eat double helpings of meals and then suddenly i can't even eat half a sandwich #why the fuck do you think i have like 20 nutrient deficiencies #vent #ed tw #eating disorder tw #i just want a fucking meal man.

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nezuscribe · 24 days ago

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gojo never imagined an arrange marriage with you, but now you’re all he can think about.

he thinks about you when he’s training, when he’s seated at his round table, when he’s in his bed, everywhere, every time, you’re all he can think about.

and you’re oblivious to it.

you heard the gossip everywhere you walked, about the girl gojo was pleading with his family to marry. how much he loved her, how beautiful she was, how much more elegant she was compared to you. you knew you were never his first choice, not even his fifth, but it hurt even more when everybody acknowledged it.

you stopped wearing your wedding ring, started acting like you were just another person there. luckily gojo didn’t seem to be in any hurry about making heirs, so pretending like you two were working things out didn’t even matter anymore.

you find yourself alone most of the time. your maids were kind and patient, but they had so many things to do throughout the day that you felt awful pestering them to walk around the estate with you.

eating dinners with gojo became normal, but most of your other meals were in silence, always feeling like a speck of dust in the large dining hall.

one day when you’re walking around aimlessly you stumble across the training grounds, the open space below you filled with men swinging wooden swords back and forth at each other.

it wasn’t difficult to find your husband, his white hair hard to miss in a crowd of others. he didn’t notice you watching from above, and so you stayed hidden, not knowing if the men were picky with who watched them.

he was swift and agile. everything he did was precise and with meaning. no wonder he was named the best warrior of the north.

you found this to be more entertaining than walking around the gardens for the tenth time or watching the cooks assemble the next meal, so you didn’t even notice how gojo looked up to see you, somehow slipping away without you knowing.

you were in a state of watching but not really thinking, almost jumping out of your skin when you heard his voice behind you.

“didn’t know i had an audience,”

you yelp, flinching as you look behind you to see your husband all sweaty, panting slightly as he moves his hair away from his face. you eye the stairs that led him up here, wondering how you could’ve missed that.

you laugh sheepishly, giving him an apologetic smile as you pick are your nails.

“i’m sorry,” you scratch behind your ears, feeling heat rise to your cheeks under his intense gaze. it’s unfair how pretty somebody can look, especially after training for an hour straight, “i was just walking around and i saw this.”

he waved it off, shaking his head as he leaned his sword on the wall.

“not a problem,” his eyes shine, “i just would’ve tried harder if i knew my wife was watching.”

my wife.

the words fall so smoothly from his lips you wonder how many times he’s said it before. with malice, hatred, necessity?

you smile a little bit, eyes crinkling around the edges as you look away briefly, not noticing the way gojo chased after your cheerful face.

“how’d you get up here? where are your ladies?” he asks suddenly, looking around at the fact that it was just you up here.

“my what?” you say, looking up at him through furrowed brows.

“you know,” he waves his arm around as if that would help, “you’re ladies in waiting,”

you scrunch up your nose a little bit, something he noticed you did when you were confused.

“oh, well, my maids are working right now,” you tell him, noting that he still didn’t look any less confused.

“no, not your maids, your ladies,” he tilts his head to the side, “the girls your family sent them up to help you around.”

you stare at him, unblinking.

“the girls that are your friends, the ones that help accustom you…” gojo trials off when he realizes he’s not getting anywhere with you.

you feel even more embarrassed than when he caught you watching him, hating the way you were clueless at yet another thing in this life that no one explained to you.

“the girls you hang around with?” he finally lands on, hoping this jogs your memory.

you shake your head, eyes wide as you fidget with the fabric of your dress. his eyes fall onto your finger, lingering on the fact that you’re not wearing your ring.

“who do you spend your time with throughout the day?” gojo seems even more lost than you. he’s seen you with…? well surely that one time…?

“by,” you swallow, embarrassed, “by myself. i walk around a lot.” you admit sheepishly.

“your family didn’t send…?” he answers his own question with his silence.

this entire time you’ve been alone?

he opens his mouth to speak but somebody beats him to it.

“satoru! get down here! we’re still not done!” his friends shouts from below, and you look over your shoulder to see all the men staring at the two of you.

gojo stares at you, unblinking.

“i,” he swallows but can’t find any words.

you can’t either.

he leaves you there, running down those stairs as he shouts at the other guys to resume what they were doing. that entire day he was off his balance because he kept looking up to see you there, but you weren’t.

maybe you were just walking around, like you said.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru x reader #gojo drabble #jjk x reader #jjk drabble #gojo angst #arranged!gojo

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mckinlily · 1 year ago

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Plot armor but it’s Bruce Wayne’s wealth.

Bruce is one of the richest men in the world. Bruce does not want to be one of the richest men in world.

He starts by implementing high starting salaries and full health care coverages for all levels at Wayne Enterprises. This in vastly improves retention and worker productivity, and WE profits soar. He increases PTO, grants generous parental and family leave, funds diversity initiatives, boosts salaries again. WE is ranked “#1 worker-friendly corporation”, and productively and profits soar again.

Ok, so clearly investing his workers isn’t the profit-destroying doomed strategy his peers claim it is. Bruce is going to keep doing it obviously (his next initiative is to ensure all part-time and contractors get the same benefits and pay as full time employees), but he is going to have to find a different way to dump his money.

But you know what else is supposed to be prohibitively expensive? Green and ethical initiatives. Yes, Bruce can do that. He creates and fund a 10 year plan to covert all Wayne facilities to renewable energy. He overhauls all factories to employ the best environmentally friendly practices and technologies. He cuts contracts with all suppliers that engage in unethical employment practices and pays for other to upgrade their equipment and facilities to meet WE’s new environmental and safety requirements. He spares no expense.

Yeah, Wayne Enterprises is so successful that they spin off an entire new business arm focused on helping other companies convert to environmentally friendly and safe practices like they did in an efficient, cost effective, successful way.

Admittedly, investing in his own company was probably never going to be the best way to get rid of his wealth. He slashes his own salary to a pittance (god knows he has more money than he could possibly know what to do with already) and keeps investing the profits back into the workers, and WE keeps responding with nearly terrifying success.

So WE is a no-go, and Bruce now has numerous angry billionaires on his back because they’ve been claiming all these measures he’s implementing are too expensive to justify for decades and they’re finding it a little hard to keep the wool over everyone’s eyes when Idiot Softheart Bruice Wayne has money spilling out his ears. BUT Bruce can invest in Gotham. That’ll go well, right?

Gotham’s infrastructure is the OSHA anti-Christ and even what little is up to code is constantly getting destroyed by Rogue attacks. Surely THAT will be a money sink.

Except the only non-corrupt employer in Gotham city is….Wayne Enterprises. Or contractors or companies or businesses that somehow, in some way or other, feed back to WE. Paying wholesale for improvement to Gotham’s infrastructure somehow increases WE’s profits.

Bruce funds a full system overhaul of Gotham hospital (it’s not his fault the best administrative system software is WE—he looked), he sets up foundations and trusts for shelters, free clinics, schools, meal plans, day care, literally anything he can think of.

Gotham continues to be a shithole. Bruce Wayne continues to be richer than god against his Batman-ingrained will.

Oh, and Bruice Wayne is no longer viewed as solely a spoiled idiot nepo baby. The public responds by investing in WE and anything else he owns, and stop doing this, please.

Bruce sets up a foundation to pay the college tuition of every Gotham citizen who applies. It’s so successful that within 10 years, donations from previous recipients more than cover incoming need, and Bruce can’t even donate to his own charity.

But by this time, Bruce has children. If he can’t get rid of his wealth, he can at least distribute it, right?

Except Dick Grayson absolutely refuses to receive any of his money, won’t touch his trust fund, and in fact has never been so successful and creative with his hacking skills as he is in dumping the money BACK on Bruce. Jason died and won’t legally resurrect to take his trust fund. Tim has his own inherited wealth, refuses to inherit more, and in fact happily joins forces with Dick to hack accounts and return whatever money he tries to give them. Cass has no concept of monetary wealth and gives him panicked, overwhelmed eyes whenever he so much as implies offering more than $100 at once. Damian is showing worrying signs of following in his precious Richard’s footsteps, and Babs barely allows him to fund tech for the Clocktower. At least Steph lets him pay for her tuition and uses his credit card to buy unholy amounts of Batburger. But that is hardly a drop in the ocean of Bruce’s wealth. And she won’t even accept a trust fund of only one million.

Jason wins for best-worst child though because he currently runs a very lucrative crime empire. And although he pours the vast, vast majority of his profits back into Crime Alley, whenever he gets a little too rich for his tastes, he dumps the money on Bruce. At this point, Bruce almost wishes he was being used for money laundering because then he’s at least not have the money.

So children—generous, kindhearted, stubborn till the day they die the little shits, children—are also out.

Bruce was funding the Justice League. But then finances were leaked, and the public had an outcry over one man holding so much sway over the world’s superheroes (nevermind Bruce is one of those superheroes—but the public can’t know that). So Bruce had to do some fancy PR trickery, concede to a policy of not receiving a majority of funds from one individual, and significantly decrease his contributions because no one could match his donations.

At his wits end, Bruce hires a team of accounts to search through every crinkle and crevice of tax law to find what loopholes or shortcuts can be avoided in order to pay his damn taxes to the MAX.

The results are horrifying. According to the strictest definition of the law, the government owes him money.

Bruce burns the report, buries any evidence as deeply as he can, and organizes a foundation to lobby for FAR higher taxation of the upper class.

All this, and Wayne Enterprises is happily chugging along, churning profit, expanding into new markets, growing in the stock market, and trying to force the credit and proportionate compensation on their increasingly horrified CEO.

Bruce Wayne is one of the richest men in the world. Bruce Wayne will never not be one of the richest men in the world.

But by GOD is he trying.

#batman #bruce wayne #laws of this dc universe say Gotham is always a hellcity #and bruce wayne is always filthy rich #bruce wayne is fighting with everything he has against both those facts #he’s not going to win #but he’s not going to stop either #bruce crying with fistfuls of money in his hands: take it. PLEASE #the public: donate more???

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writersdrug · 3 months ago

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Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of man who:

In your shared home, always sits with his legs spread. Manspreading king. Adores it when you cross your arms and give him a disapproving look, saying there's no room for you. "Course there is, luv. Jus' sit between my thighs."

Refuses to let you do simple tasks around the house, like making tea, folding his underwear, or putting away the dishes. One might think it's a sweet, husbandly gesture - but he's just super picky. You made tea in the microwave once, and now you're banned from ever touching his tea stash. Likes his underwear folded in a specific way, and you don't understand the importance of it. He got tired of you stuffing his underwear in his drawer, so now he folds it himself. And the dishes? Couldn't stand how you put them away. "There's no rhyme or reason to 'em." "I didn't think there had to be, Si-" "Just gimme the damn bowl." Fewer chores? You aren't complaining.

Looks like he's always on edge - and he is, kinda. When he's out with you, he can't help but be alert and watchful, and extremely protective of you. You've tried to get him to loosen up - it's the supermarket, what could happen? - but have just come to accept it as his nature. Plus, you get that giddy feeling when you see other men look straight down at the floor, avoiding Simon's stare as the two of you pass.

Is the grumpiest, poutiest, and most indignant man ever when he gets sick. Doesn't want you doting on him in case you catch whatever he has. But, wait - where are you going? "Get your ass back in this bed - 'm cold." Grumbles like a child when you force him to let you get up to grab him soup, tea, or medicine. And no, he doesn't care how sick he is, he's not wearing that stupid, floppy ice pack hat.

Brings Johnny over unannounced, and you've grown used to it. The moment you hear that Scottish yapping out the front door as the key unlocks, you grab a third plate for dinner - he insists you don't need to feed him, but you always make extra for Simon's lunch the next day regardless, and the last time he'd said that, he ended up grabbing an extra fork and picking from Simon's plate. Which, of course, had Simon up at 1 am making instant ramen because he was still hungry, but didn't have the heart to ask you to make him a decent meal. So, yes, Johnny would be fed.

Loves spoiling you on your birthday. What is a man if not someone who spoils his partner rotten? Orders in food from your favorite bakery, sets all your presents neat and nice on the table (the excellent wrapping job done by yours truly, Gaz), flower petals sprinkled on the ground and the table top (also Gaz's idea), and a seat on his lap so for you while you open your presents. Loves watching your face light up, and each little "you remembered?!" fall from your lips as you open each gift. Scoffs and shifts in his seat. "I's not that much of a fuss, luv..." as you squeal excitedly, but you know he's biting back a proud smile. The blush, he can't even attempt to hide.

Is somehow a magnet for your young nephews. Every time he comes along to your sister's place, he's either making conversation with her husband in the living room, or he's interrogated and cornered by her two sons. And, lord help him, he doesn't understand it either. He'd always expected kids to look at him like a monster, but, especially with these two, that was never the case. They'd ask him for stories about "being in war" - half of the time, he'd make up some not-too-gory adventure, sparing them the details of real war. The rest of the time, he'd talk about "Soap, my mate who blows everything up." And they'd listen with wide eyes and jaws on the floor.

Has scared you unintentionally, more than too many times. He'd come home at three in the morning from a mission, and all he wanted was to quietly peel his dirty uniform off and slip into bed with you. His main intention was to avoid waking you up, because you'd force him to shower before joining you in bed - and he was too tired for that. However, you'd been rounding the corner, up for your 3 am glass of water - you screamed as you saw the hulking, dark figure by the front door, launching your phone at him. He'd caught it effortlessly and shoved it into his back pocket. "What've I told ya 'bout using the bat?" "I was just getting water!" "I coulda been anyone." "Well you're not." "Missed ya, luvie." "Missed you too- but you're grimy. Go take a-" "No." He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, ignoring your protests as he hauled you back to bed.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley headcanons #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley headcanons #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost headcanons #call of duty #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #cod x reader #cod #cod blurbs

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nkogneatho · 21 days ago

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HOUSE OF ORGASMS

favorite spot at home where jjk men like to fuck you.

— cw: fem!reader, exhibitionism, praise kink, temperature play, water play, hair fisting, cunningulus, fingering, cum eating, slight degradation, breeding mentioned.

— a/n: thank you beyoncé. take me off your list please.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔- 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐍

Kitchen is Satoru's favorite place in house. He is a foodie at heart. When he comes home from long, draining missions, the first thing that pulls him in is the aroma of the delicious food.

Satoru never announces when he is home. He likes to surprise you by hugging you from behind, hands locked on your tummy. He nuzzles his face in your neck, taking a whiff of your scent.

“I am home, sugar,” he announced. The vibration of his low voice sent shivers down to your core.

“Toruuu. Don't mess with me when I am cooking,” you purred

“mmh hmm,” he chuckled. “and how am I messing with you, my love?” His hands traveled around your body, enticing it more, and stopped only when they reached to your cunt.

“No panties, huh? Were you expecting this?” He whispered in your ear. Your hands trembled as they stirred the soup.

“Wanted to give you easy access.” A giggle escaped your lips, knowing how easy it is to tease him.

“Then let me make use of it, yeah?”

You turned off the stove before Satoru turned you around, picked you up and placed you on the counter top in the middle. You watched him get on his knees, loosening a few buttons of his shirt. He spread your legs apart, licking his lips at your glistening pussy, inviting him for a taste.

“Thank you for the meal” was the last coherent sentence that was heard from his mouth because he spent the next twenty minutes slurping, slobbering and spitting on your pussy. Even if a few praises managed to escape his mouth, they were caught by your clit the way he was trying to speak while being face deep in you.

You watch him unbuckle his belt with one hand to free his strained cock, his tongue not leaving your pussy for even a second. Fuck. His moans were driving you crazy. Your pretty fingers tightened around the white locks of his hair, and that's how satoru knew you were close. He shoved two digits up your cunt as he teased your sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue.

“fuck fuck fuck I'm close. Anh! Anh! Anh! Yes toru fuuuuuuuck” you cried as you came all over his tongue. He licked the remnants of your cum off his lips and asked you to clean off his soaking wet digits. The way you started kitty licking them, holding his wrist and slurping on them, made his cock shoot a load on the fabric of his pants.

He looked at you with a pink face, “shit. Tell me if your curry needs some sauce.” You lightly hit him as he laughs it off.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈- 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐘

Toji is a possessive man down to the core. Every so often a little too much. Any man who dares to even spare you an innocent glance looks away in seconds when he finds a 6 feet tall figure burying daggers in his body with just his look.

So when the man next building started interacting with you, toji knew what he had to do. Especially, when it’s really convenient that his window and your balcony were parallel.

“Tojii please. Someone will catch us,” you cried.

“Let them. I want them to know who ya belong too.” It was too much. Your legs were losing control. Your limp body pressed against the glass windows with your hair wrapped around toji’s fist, he was rutting against you mercilessly.

He gripped your hips tightly, pulling you against him as he angled deeper into your

“Fuck, you're so delicious, baby. If I could, I would fuck you in front of the whole city so them motherfuckers know to keep their dirty hands off my pretty slut”

He started pounding into you harder, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the night air as he claimed you with fierce possessiveness. When you tried to bite your lip to stop yourself from crying out too loud, toji leaned forward and pulled you into the deepest kiss, making you vulnerable to scream the most desperate moans.

“I hope that pervert’s watching… wishing he could be in my place, splitting you open and making you scream like this.”

He growled low in his throat, the hold on your hips tightening to the point of bruising as he fucked you with ruthless intensity. He felt your pussy clench around his cock, signaling your impending orgasm as you arched your back, your spot craving more for that sweet release.

“Tojitojitojitoji” you cried. You were sure that people saw you two but your brain was so fucked out that you couldn’t care less.

“hmm” he chuckled in amusement. “Looks like lover boy’s watching us, doll. Scream my name more, yeah? Fhhuck-” Your walls clenched around him. You could feel the thick veins as your walls hugged them tightly.

“attagirl. atta.fucking.girl. Just like that baby. Cum f’me”

“tooojiiiii fhuuuuuck” your wails of pleasure echoed through the city.

“I know baby. I know. I’m close too. Keep throwing it back, hmm?”

He threw his head back with a loud groan as he followed you right after your edge, his cock pulsing violently as he filled you with his warm cum.

“Y’er mine… All mine… Never forget it, doll” he sighed in your ears, catching your limped body, trailing kisses all over your back. He definitely had a good sleep that night knowing he would keep his hands off you from tomorrow.

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔- 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐔𝐁

Suguru is a caretaker at heart. He knows what you need, even when you don't. When you come home, all he wants is to wipe away all your stress.

You walked through the door and the calming scent of lavender lured you in the room.

“Suguru? Suguru, love, I am home.” Amidst of calling him and seeking him with your doe eyes, two large hands appeared on your waist and locked against your stomach.

“Been waiting for you, my love,” Suguru purred in your years with the deepest yet softest voice. “Follow me”

He tugged lightly on your wrist and guided you to the warm bubbly water of the bathtub. The scented lavender candles painted the night with dim yellow. Big hands undressed you, kissing your skin as he pulled each piece of clothing with gentleness. He got in the tub first, then guided you in. The warm water immediately making you feel better. The soft foam enveloped your body as he pulled you against him, your back pressed against his chest.

“Mmm, baby… This is where you belong, wrapped up in my arms” he said as he kissed your bare shoulder blade.

He trailed his fingertips lazily over your collarbone, down to the swell of your breasts, teasing the sensitive peaks until they hardened against his palms.

“Mhmm, suguru...” you moaned.

“Shhh… Let me take care of you, love. Just tell me what you want, mkay?” You nodded.

He gently pinched and rolled your nipples between his fingers, watching with satisfaction as you arch into his caress.

“I could spend hours just playing with these perfect tits… But there's so much more of you that I need to take care of.” Long fingers started traveling down, feeling the gentle curve of your hips, until they reached the place that was yearning for his touch.

You squirmed when he pinched your clit lightly. “Hmm…sweet little pussy.” He chuckled. “Always so eager for me.”

“Just for you.”

“I know, darling.” He started stroking your folds with his fingers, coating it in your slick, the warm water stimulating your clit more.

He leaned in to capture your mouth in a slow, sensual kiss, his tongue delving deep to tangle with yours as he put his hard cock in your pussy with increasing intimacy in the warm, soothing water.

Suguru started rubbing your clit underwater, his cock was tucked inside your walls, not moving an inch. He knew he needed you to relax first. You didn't know if it was the water, the ambience, or the fatigue of the whole day, but you were close, sooner than usual. Suguru could feel your body tightening as you held on his arms tightly.

“Sugu…'m close”

“Let it go, baby. Cum for me.” His command sent you over the edge as you orgasmed, hands holding the edge of the bath tub so tightly.

“Good girl.” He praised as you clashed your erratic body on him, chest heaving.

“Wow. That was…"

“Amazing, right?” He kissed your head.

“Mhmm. Now…how about I ride you in here.” You turned to face him as you suggested.

“But you're tired, baby.” Suguru's worried voice melted you.

“Never for you.” You winked at him as you aligned his cock with your entrance once again. Honestly, Suguru gave you a reason to skip work.

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀- 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

Being a king throughout 1000 of years, Sukuna has grown a liking to sitting on his throne with his thighs spread out and face resting on one of the hands. So, guess how he fucks you? Like the king that he is.

He sits on the couch with both his arms stretched and resting on it, all while you squirm as you struggle to put just his flushed tip in.

He smirked down at you, eyes gleaming with lust and pride as he watches your expressions.

“Need a hand, woman?”

“Shut up, sukuna. Give me a—ngh a s-second.” You scowled, trying to fit him in.

“Sure. Take all the seconds you want. Also," he leaned in, unresting his back from the couch, “… If you want to run your mouth like that, then better do it after you manage to get it in. It doesn't sound convincing when you stutter like a slut.”

He was clearly pushing your buttons, and you were pushing down your cunt out of fury and frustration. And you managed to get it in, moaning out his name desperately, hands immediately falling on his shoulder to maintain balance.

“Easy. Easy tiger.” His hands supported your back. “Hmm…don't hurt yourself.”

“I-I won't. Lemme ride it, kuna.”

“All yours,” he smiled.

He grasped your hips firmly, guiding you to sink again onto his length in one smooth motion

“Mmm, yeah. Just like that. Take what you need from your king”

He let out a low groan as you begin to move, rolling your hips in a slow, sensual rhythm that had both of you panting with pleasure, only sukuna wouldn't make it obvious on his face. He is too cocky for that.

“Shit. You're so tight.”

He leaned forward to capture your lips in a deep kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as he savored the taste of your moans

“That's right, baby. Ride it good. Make those pretty tits bounce.”

He broke the kiss to gaze at you, his hands sliding up to palm your breasts, teasing the stiff nipples between his fingers.

“Look at you, sweetheart. So gorgeous, trying to be in control. I love watching you take what you want.”

He started to thrust up into you, meeting your downward strokes with increasing urgency as your bodies moved together in perfect sync.

“Fuck…kuna. Too deep. Ah!”

“Obviously. Wanna give up?”

You vigorously shook your head. “No…feels good.” He chuckled at you.

He reached beneath you to rub at your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to send shivers of delight through your body. “Come on, pretty thing. Drench this cock with your juices.” You start moving faster, losing your composure as you chase your high.

“fuck. Ah! Kuna kuna yes! Gonna cum. Anh! Anh! Fuck. Aaaah!" You screamed in pleasure as you came, head rolling back as sukuna's grip on your waist tightened as he shot his load in you.

“Fuck! Agh—shit” his thighs trembled. “Take it Take it. Take it.” He growled as he emptied his balls in you. His forehead crashed on your shoulders.

"Shit. Think you ready for a little brat just like you?"

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎- 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐃

Nanami is a classic lover. He believes in change, but he also believes that some things should remain the same. Like how he likes to spoil you with flowers and letters, no matter how cliché they are considered. How he reads poetry to you every night. And how he fucks his cock deep in you on the bed in missionary.

Nanami lifted you onto the bed, laying you out on the soft sheets like an offering to be worshiped

“Ah, darling. You look so beautiful like this.”

He kicked off his pants and climbed onto the bed, soaking in the pretty sight of you.

He positioned him between your thighs as he drank in the sight of your glistening pussy. “Mmm, look at that. So wet and ready for me already.” He mumbled. You covered your face with the back of your hand. “Don't get all shy on me now.”

He lined up his throbbing cock with your entrance, rubbing the tip against your sensitive clit to elicit a moan from your lips. “That's it, sweetheart. Let me hear how much you want this.”

He grasped your hips firmly, holding you in place as he slowly sunk into you, relishing the feeling of your tight heat enveloping his hard on inch by delicious inch

“Fuck, baby. Just like always, you feel incredible,” he moaned out.

He started to move, setting a steady, deep rhythm as he claimed you with long, intense strokes.

“Ken…oh my g-god. Feels so good.”

“I know, baby. I love you,” he whispered, forehead pressed against yours, “Every inch of you.”

“Love you, too, K-ken—Ah Fuck yes! Right there.”

He seized your mouth in a heated kiss, swallowing your whimpers and moans as he continued to pound into you with increasing fervor.

“I love feeling you tense up around me, sweetheart. Fhuuck! Knowing that you're com-completely lost in pleasure, mindless and consumed by the need for more.”

He broke the kiss to gaze into your eyes, his own burning with raw desire as he picks up the pace, driving into you with reckless abandon

“You're mine, sweetheart. Go ahead. Claim me as you cum.”

He continued to pleasure you with slow, deliberate movements, delving deeper to stroke your inner walls with his girthy cock, coaxing you closer to the brink of ecstasy

“I want to hear you, sweetheart. Say my name.”

“Ken! Ken! Yes, Ken! Make me cum. Fuck.”

You reached your high, and you locked your legs tightly around his waist. Your clenching walls sent Nanami over the edge, and he climaxed with a guttural roar, slamming into you one final time as he erupted inside you, painting your insides with wave after wave of his hot release.

“Ah, fuck yeah. So good, sweetheart.” He crashed onto you like a weighted blanket, chest heaving. “Did you feel good?”

“So good. I love you, Ken.”

"I love you more, darling."

6K notes · View notes

gojonanami · 10 months ago

Text

❝ 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,

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