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ashasdiary · 2 days ago

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Bodyguard

Pairing: Geto Suguru x reader Synopsis: Geto finds out you’re being harassed at work. CW: harassment, established relationship, protective!geto, angry!geto, Geto beats him up, a little angst, fluff, brief suggestiveness WC: 1.9k A/N: no one look at me I’m trying to cope 😵‍💫

It started very innocently. Just small chats here and there, in the work kitchen, passing by through the hallways, in the elevators. Then the chats became a bit longer. You initially thought your coworker Daniel was just being attentive, asking about you, showing genuine interest in what you had to say. To be sometimes expected from a work colleague.

But you realised his intentions early on. So you made it a point each time he asked your plans to mention your boyfriend, Geto, just to make sure he was aware that you were not interested.

That didn’t stop him.

Every time he passed by your desk, he’d pat your shoulder and mouth a small ‘hi’. Initially, it wasn’t concerning, because it was minor, just him saying hi in greeting. But the more time passed, the longer his touches on your shoulder, and the more agitated you got.

He’d join you, uninvited, while you had your lunch. Offering him a polite smile, you wouldn’t say anything as he’d sit near to you in the work kitchen.

“Whatcha got?” He asked once.

“Just a sandwich,” you reply, mouth full, not caring about manners in that moment. Because he had eyes. Why ask stupid questions?

“Oh, nice. Healthy,” he nods, opening up his food container, “You always have healthy stuff.”

You blink a few times, thinking what the hell, keeping tabs on my lunch? He begins to eat and you hum, kind of dismissively, “Yeah.”

You continue to eat your sandwich in silence, looking at your phone, hoping he’ll leave you in peace. Ha! Why would he?

“What did you get up to on the weekend?” He asks and you glance up at him, giving a tight lipped smile.

“Had a day out with my boyfriend, we did a hike and then saw a new movie…not much else,” you say.

“Ah, hikes are great. I hope it was a good movie. It’s nice having a companion, but I’m so particular about who I keep around…it’s why I can’t find anyone decent,” he responds, and you chew on your lip, feeling a bit unnerved by the trajectory of the conversation.

His phone rings then, and you thank the stars for the interruption. You stand up then as he takes it and you say something about your lunch break finishing before you dash out of there.

Geto had noticed you’d been a bit down recently, but he didn’t want to push you to talk about it because he knew that there wasn’t always a reason for being down. Moods fluctuate, something he could personally understand completely. Instead, he ups his affection to you, making sure you feel loved, and seen, and safe. Which you always do.

That week, it continued.

Fucking hell, was he persistent. More touches; the shoulder taps had become shoulder squeezes. More questions. More attention.

At the very least you were thankful you weren’t working in the same team or even in the same department. But still, it was starting to affect you. You’d feel anxious as it approached the time that he’d come into work. You’d feel anxious when you heard his footsteps.

Your coworker who sat beside you noticed it too. “He’s so weird…what’s his problem?” She comments, then her voice softens when she looks at you being tense, “hey…you okay?”

“Not really…” you whisper to her, voice wavering.

She looks concerned, “Tell HR. I’ve seen what he’s been doing, every day, it’s creepy.”

“But I don’t want to cause trouble,” you find yourself saying, and you trail off as you hear yourself. It sounds ridiculous and you know it.

Your colleague says your name, “Come on. It’s not. Do not sacrifice your comfort. Go tell them…or do you want me to?” She asks.

Deliberating for a moment, you then shake your head and inhale deeply, “I will.”

After having a conversation with HR, it all happens very fast. Within 3 hours, Daniel is being escorted out of the building having been fired.

You feel sick to your stomach, because you hadn’t wanted to cause such a drastic consequence. But as the day goes on, you are reassured that it was a completely justified decision.

It’s when you’re on the way home that you get a text from an unknown number, angrily asking what he’d done to deserve that and that you should watch your back.

When you go home to Geto that day, you walk through the door and burst into tears, all of your built up emotions being let out. He’s quick to envelope you in his arms tightly and hold you against the warmth of his chest.

“Hey, sweetheart…shh…I’ve got you, it’s okay…come sit down,” he says to you, in a soft, hushed voice as he guides you to the couch. You sit on his lap, face buried in his neck as you sniffle, tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Tell me what’s going on, honey,” he prompts, rubbing your back in soothing circles, “talk to me.”

So you tell him everything. Every instance, every encounter, every inappropriate conversation. And then the text. You notice that as you’d been explaining, he’d stiffened, his gaze had turned ice cold.

He utters your name, gently pushing your hair behind your ear as you look at him, “You should have told me the minute this began…” he sighs softly, “Maybe take some time off work. And if you don’t want to do that, I’m going to take you to and from there. Okay? Nothing is going to happen to you, I promise.”

The conviction in his tone is a safety blanket to you and you bury yourself against him, whispering a thank you and an I love you.

“I love you too, sweetheart. You’re safe, always,” he kisses your hair and holds you for the rest of the evening.

You’d debated taking time off, but you knew that would only postpone your fear. So you go to work as usual, but with the safety of Geto’s company.

He had suggested driving you to and from, but you knew the traffic in the city was awful which would be quite long. So he commutes with you. Four trips he makes each day, just to ensure that you are safe.

His presence alone was enough but knowing that he’d never let anything happen to you, that he was there only to protect you, makes you feel very much at ease.

You’re pressed up against each other on the train a couple of weeks later and he grins at you, snaking his arm around your waist. “Up close and personal, huh,” you murmur to him.

“Not close enough,” he teases you with a wink and you flick his chin with a laugh.

“Sugu, you might as well just come and work at the same company with all these trips you’re making,” you say as you walk hand in hand from the station to your work building.

He chuckles, “While that would be fun, working in the same place as you, I think that they might end up firing me too for inappropriate touching,” he jokes and you laugh at this.

He smiles to himself at the sound of your laugh, happy to see that you’re not feeling so anxious or sensitive anymore and can laugh at jokes about it.

“You’d always want to get me alone,” you tease.

“Oh, yeah. Every chance I get,” he squeezes your hand as you approach the building.

You head inside together and you let go of his hand, readying your keycard to swipe through the security gate several meters away, and you’re about to bid each other goodbye when you stop in your tracks. Geto looks to you in question and he follows your gaze to where Daniel is stood outside the security gate, waiting.

He didn’t know what Daniel looked like of course, but he is quick to put two and two together. At the same time, Daniel sees you. You tremble slightly as you see the look on his face as he storms over, somehow not making note of the giant 6’3 man stood beside you.

Geto quickly approaches, and he grabs Daniel by the collar, lifting him easily off the floor. “You have some nerve coming here again…I ought to teach you a fucking lesson,” Geto seethes.

Daniel is completely taken aback, turning into a spluttering mess as he grabs onto Geto’s arm that was holding him up, “I— I didn’t do anything! I don’t even know you! Put me down!”

Geto’s brows furrowed deeply, his blood boiling, “You sly piece of shit, you deserve what’s coming,” Geto says through clenched teeth, and throws Daniel across the shiny floor. He slides a few yards before coming to a stop. He curls into a ball as Geto angrily approaches him, crouching down and pulling his head back by his hair.

“You think this is funny? Showing up to your old workplace just to harass someone again?” Geto raises his voice.

“N-no, I didn’t—” Daniel quivers, but Geto’s not hearing it.

“Like hell you didn’t,” Geto bites back, then performs a jujutsu technique that has the man being catapulted against the wall so forcefully that it cracks.

Daniel is knocked out cold. You cover your mouth in shock before you rush over to Geto’s side and hold onto his arm, “Sugu…”

At the same time, security guards rush over to both Geto and Daniel and police had been called as well. The security guard recognises you but says to Geto, “Sir, police have been called. We ask for your cooperation.”

“You don’t want me to leave the premises?” Geto asks coolly, swiping some sweat off his cheek with his thumb.

“No, sir,” the security guard gestures for Geto to follow him and waits for him to do so.

You look at Geto helplessly. “Sugu, I’m sorry—” you begin and he frowns.

“Why’re you sorry? This isn’t your fault. I acted in your defence. He was clearly coming at you,” he says, his eyes searching yours, placing his hands on your arms and caressing them gently. You relax a little bit. He’s right, of course.

“They can charge me but if any, it’s likely they’ll be dropped. There’s CCTV here, and the security guards,” he looks over to the security guard stood waiting beside you both and speaks directly to him, “were clearly negligent in carrying out their jobs to allow someone who’d been fired for harassment back into the building again.”

The guard swallows thickly. You try to hide your smile at how Geto’s handling this, it’s admirable to see.

“There’s no problem for me, I’ll happily cooperate and give my statement to the police. The evidence is right there,” Geto says to you and nods his head to the CCTV cameras overhead.

“Can I come with you?” You ask, and he outstretches his arm.

“They’ll probably want a statement from you too. It’s best if you did,” he says and you both walk with the security guard to the side.

Police arrive, take statements, and evidence of the CCTV. They determine there’s no charges. You head back home with Suguru and take the day off.

He’d made your favourite meal for lunch, and as you’re curled up together on the couch eating and watching TV, you kiss his cheek. “It’s sweet having you as my bodyguard.”

“I like being it too,” he replies and glances over to you with a tender gaze, feeling content that he’s the one to protect you and keep you safe.

“Does this mean we can do bodyguard role play in the bedroom?” You say and he coughs, almost choking on his food.

You laugh quietly and pat his back as he says your name, “Now that, I didn’t expect.”

“Is that a yes?” You grin as he sips on his drink, eyeing you over the rim.

He sets his glass down and smirks, “It certainly is.”

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starkeygirls · 2 days ago

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i n v i s i b l e s t r i n g

chapter 1

rafe cameron x pogue!reader

summary: really bad at these!

wc: 2.5k

warning: none! i haven't written in a while, this is a rewrite of a story that i started in 2020, so please bare with me as i get back in the groove of writing.

a/n: guess who's back, back again. determined to finish this series. rafe and sofia in s4 really inspired me to get back into this fic, hope you all like it ◡̈ pls reblog/comment/etc.. would love to hear your thoughts ◡̈

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Sometimes you really fit into Figure 8. Sometimes you all did. Like when John B was off with Sarah and he was wearing the clothes that she had bought him to go out golfing or go to brunch at the yacht club. Or when Kie was dragged to a kook event by her parents at the country club. Pope wore his suit when he had different scholarship and college interviews- and he really gave the kook boys a run for their money with how good he looked in his steamed suit. JJ was the least likely to really look like he would ever fit in on Figure 8, and that was because he never wanted to. He reserved his ‘money suit’, as he called it, for when he had to work as a busboy, and occasionally picked up other gigs. You, however, were fitting in more often than you would have liked.

You tucked your white cashmere sweater into your long, green pleated skirt. Letting out a small huff as you sprayed your perfectly curled hair one more time. Throwing your purse over your shoulder, you trudged down your hallway, your sneakers cost more than $400. You could still remember how your jaw dropped when you saw the pricetag, and apparently the kooks ate these shoes up. They needed them in every color, every new style that came out. It was madness, if you were being honest. It was like they were just giving away money.

That’s what it seemed like, at least. You had been working at a retail store in the main strip of Figure 8 for over a year now. It was the only way you could afford the clothes you were wearing. You got a steep discount off the price, and you knew how to shop sales better than anyone.

Your kook masquerade was always squished the moment you walked out to your car. The old beat up Honda that was always parked out front was nothing like what a kook would drive. It was too old. A 2005? The kooks didn’t know what anything from that year was- maybe only their participation trophies from little league that had the year engraved, that was about it.

Unlocking the car, you tossed your bag onto the passenger seat, closing the door and buckling up your seatbelt.

“Please start, Hilda..” You mumbled, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath as your hand turned the key in the ignition. She did, as usual- but you would never forget the time that she broke down. You cried for the ten minutes it took John B and JJ to rescue you. They were like your own little mechanics. Pope had called you in the car for the ten minutes while you sobbed and tried to calm you down- it didn’t work. Nothing worked until you saw your car fixed. You still owed them for saving your ass that day, regardless of how many times they assured you it was really nothing.

Crossing over the bridge from The Cut to Figure 8, you sighed: traffic. You knew by now the traffic was always bad as you headed into the main strip of town. It was the most popular place. Coffee shops, restaurants, stores.. Who wouldn’t be there if they had the money and time? Yeah, the coffee was overpriced and no one knew how to drive in their expensive cars, but it was still nice. Nicer than The Cut where people revved their engines when you scurried across the street.

–

It took you a half hour to finally pull into the parking lot behind your store. Saturdays were always the worst traffic wise, but boy, was it a good sales day. Checking the time, you bit your lip as you contemplated running to the cafe a few shops down to get a coffee. Technically you had time- you were always early. You had a fear of being late if you were being honest. You knew it looked bad, and it wasn’t hard for you to just leave a little early for wherever you were going. It took you two minutes to walk to the cafe, and you would give yourself ten minutes to be in the cafe, another two minutes to walk back, and you had twenty minutes until you had to clock in. What if the cafe was busy? What if it took you fifteen minutes in there?

You slammed the car door and walked towards the Cove Cafe. The bell dinged as you walked in, a smile pressed to your lips as you pushed your sunglasses to your head. It wasn’t busy. What a relief. You smiled at the barista as you walked up to the counter. You and Gabriella had become good friends from your constant stops to the overpriced coffee shop.

“The usual?” She asked with a grin, scribbling onto the cup as you nodded your head. You still had ten minutes to get back to the shop before you had to clock in. You smiled and waved back to Gabriella as you left the shop, sipping on the drink that had become a staple to your routine.

–

This Saturday was not a good day for sales. The weather must’ve been too nice, or everyone had gone to the mainland. The traffic you had fought through died down, and the small shop was deserted. Main Street in general was deserted. You and your co-worker, Abigail were basically staring at each other for four hours. It was painful at this point. You both had resorted to hiding off to the side hall to watch Netflix shows, peering your heads out when you heard the door open.

Most of the time it was one or two people wandering in- usually tourons who just looked around and pulled you away from the show. It was your turn to walk out there when the door dinged, watching as two people walked in. Your eyes squinted as you looked to the security camera before heading out from behind the curtain.

You tried to hide your surprise- and disgust- as your eyes glanced over to see Topper Thorton and Rafe Cameron in the small store. What did they want? Were they making rounds because Sarah was complaining about something John B had said? You knew it wasn’t a good idea John B was hanging around her. Were they threatening your group?

Was it too late to shove Abigail out here? Was it too late to lock the doors and pretend you never opened? Were you allowed to not greet them? Spit in their faces?

“Do you have this in a large?” Rafe’s question knocked you from your thoughts, blinking a few times before you furrowed your brows.

“Let me go check for you.” You smiled at the two boys before heading behind the curtain where Abigail was. “How did I get so unlucky to have to deal with Topper and Rafe? How come you got a Hollywood directors cousin and I get two assholes who aren’t going to spend any money?” A groan escaped your lips before you brought yourself down the stairs to the stockroom.

–

“So you’re going to take the three shirts, the sweater and the two pants and then we’re going to order you the polo in the salmon color, and the sneakers, right?” You ran by him one more time.

“Yeah, and ship it to the store if you can.” Rafe nodded, tapping his American Express Platinum card against the wooden counter. You nodded, typing away on the ipad register. It was a relief to finally be getting them out of the store, though they were a lot less of a pain then you had originally thought they would be. In fact, they were really respectful a complete 180 from what you were used to experiencing. They had hung back up everything they had tried on, and made sure to get a full glance of everything they could want in a different size or color before making you run to the stockroom once they were aware it was in a basement.

The only awkward part of the whole interaction was when you had absentmindedly walked back to the fitting rooms and saw Rafe shirtless as he spoke to Topper about the shirt he had on.

“Pants fit well.” You awkwardly smiled, diverting your eyes from Rafe’s toned chest. You didn’t hate having them in the store, and he was about to drop a lot of money which was only going to be more money in your pocket.

“You’re all set. Everything should be here by Wednesday the latest. I’ll give you a call when they get here.” You smiled, watching him tap the heavy card against the card reader. His blue eyes glanced up to meet your own eyes.

“Could you text me, actually? The number on file is my cell.” Your eyes glanced to Topper as he smirked, eyes glancing your way. To be honest, you were surprised. It wasn’t like you weren’t allowed to text customers for outreach or order updates- but it was the look Rafe was giving you, it was the smirk Topper had plastered to his face, it was the way Rafe was leaning on the counter.

–

“And then as if spending an hour with them wasn’t bad enough, he asked me to text him when his order got to the store!” You were pacing in the living room of the chateau. You had driven straight there after work, it was a bit of a usual for all of you. After work on Saturdays, everyone would meet at the chateau and unwind, usually a beer or two, and pizza.

“Why are you dressed like you’re from the 60’s?” JJ asked, as if he hadn’t been looking at you for the past fifteen minutes you had been ranting.

“That isn’t the point, idiot.” Kiara chimed in, shaking her head at JJ’s comment. “Love the sweater by the way.” She smiled.

“Dude, it retails for like three hundred, I almost threw up when a woman asked me where it was in the store the last time I wore it and then she bought it in the three colors we have.” You smiled back, finally plopping onto the couch next to JJ. His eyes were wide as he looked to your sweater, before petting it.

“Fuck, it’s soft.”

“It’s cashmere and get your grubby hands off of it. You probably have oil or beer on your hands, and it’s dry clean only.” Your hand smacked at his.

“So when’s your first date with Rafe.” JJ teased, a groan leaving your lips as your head fell back.

“Where the hell did a date even come into this? If he gets my number that’s just another way to threaten us.”

“I wish John B and Sarah were here to hear all this.. Sarah would lose it.” Kie laughed. “But, we would probably get to the bottom of it. She would just text him and see what was up. Either we’re overthinking it, or we’re perfectly on track for whatever his twisted mind is thinking.”

“So are you going to wear cashmere on your date with him? Do you think he’ll pay?” JJ continued, a grin planted to his face. He wasn’t going to let it die down, which you should have expected. Jeez, where was Pope, John B and Sarah when you needed them?

–

Your fingers hovered over your phone after you had texted Rafe, the chat bubble signaling he was responding - and fast. There was no need to be nervous about whatever he was saying, it was your job, after all. Texting him as he requested for the order he placed - you hadn’t done anything wrong or out of the ordinary.

You jumped a bit feeling your phone vibrate in your hand, eyes scanning the text saying he would probably show up right before you closed because he was busy. Your lips pulled into a tight line, preparing yourself to have to stay past close. You hearted the message without even thinking, all sense of professionalism threw itself out the window. “Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, too late now to undo what had been done.

–

The store was in nearly perfect condition, you had told Abigail to head home, that you would wait out Rafe’s arrival on your own, assuring her he would surely only be about 5-10 minutes. You finger spaced the racks twice, re-folded your tables and even dusted off the mannequins as you waited for his arrival. It was now thirty minutes past close, the doors had been locked, your fingers tapped along the desk as a sigh escaped your lips, eyes rolling. Pulling your phone out of pocket, your fingers fired off a message to Rafe.

hey! i’ve gotta close up, we’re open from 9-7 tomorrow, just tell the associate you’re picking up :)

Grabbing your things from the back, your keys twirled around your fingers, jumping as a figure was looking into the glass doors of the store. A gasp escaped your lips as your eyes looked to Rafe’s, a smile pressed to his lips as he caught the panic course through your body. A small debate ran through your brain, should you even let him have his things? He should and could wait until the following day. Teach him a lesson on being punctual.

His hand knocked on the door, smile still pressed tight to his lips. It was almost cocky, like he knew that you would let him in. Before even making a conscious decision, your feet were carrying you to the door and unlocking it.

“Maybe we should add a watch to your order, seems like you could use it.” Your tone was a bit harsher than you intended, but at this point, he was wasting your time. Holding the door open, you quickly locked it after he entered.

“I’m only thirty minutes late.”

“You knew when we closed, you’re abusing my kindness.”

“Is that what you call the attitude?” Your eyes were glaring at this point, feet carrying you quickly to the back where Rafe’s items were packaged neatly, a bow around the handle of the bag and all. Grabbing it, you gasped yet again as he had been closer to the curtain to the back than anticipated. A chuckle escaping his lips. “You look like a deer in headlights.”

“Can you just take your things and go? I’ve spent enough time in this store.” A huff escaped your lips as you shoved the bag to Rafe, already walking towards the front door to escort him out. “And don’t worry, I’ll send you watches during my next shift so you can work on being on time.”

“So you want to see me again?” Rafe’s eyebrows raised, smirk pressing to his lips. He clearly was in no rush to leave, or leave without frustrating you any bit he could.

“Right now I would love nothing more than to watch you leave, Rafe.” Unlocking the door, and opening it you motion for him to leave, your patience growing thin as he took his time walking from the store. “Thanks for shopping with us today.” You mutter before closing the door behind him and locking it.

–

Scrolling through your phone, a text pulled your brows together.

so, how’d i look walking away?

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nowaytoheaven2 · 2 days ago

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you spent most of your time in your room/alone, not because you wanted to, but because it was the safest thing to do

you had to worry about whether you’d be able to eat safely that day, or if you’d be met with insults, attacks and/or being chased away from food

you wanted to inflict harm onto yourself and felt it was normal to want to harm you

you inflicted harm onto your body

you spent a long time having imaginary conversations in your head where you tried to prove somehow that you were not as bad as everyone make it seem, or that someone cares about you

you sank into obsessions in order to get thru whatever was going on

you felt as if you were barely making it thru, and if there was just one more thing you’d have to deal with, you wouldn’t be able to take it

you had wild fantasies about someone taking you away from all of this and taking you somewhere safe where you wouldn’t be despised

you never felt at home, you felt like you didn’t have a home

you looked for every possible place to hide, in order to feel safe for a little while, both to keep your enjoyment secret and in case of a danger, you needed to have a hiding place

you were scared of all of your enjoyment being taken away the second people found out

you had to spend more time doing chores or taking care of others, than you could spend developing your own friendships and life

you felt inexplicably and endlessly lonely, you dreamed of one day having friends and it felt unreachable, impossible, like asking for too much

you never cried, or hid when you cried, feeling ashamed and weak

you over-indulged into a tv show, or a computer game, or a piece of media, to the point where it didn’t feel like you lived at all unless you were interacting with it

sometimes the insults and the shaming you endured got to you to the point where you believed things would be better if you didn’t exist

you were constantly trying to check if your parents actually cared for you or not, and took any tiny hint of attention, even negative attention, as a possible proof that they might care, but you could never know for sure which it was

you were scared of getting abandoned, getting kicked out of the house, getting left on the street, you even tried to plan what you would do if it happened

you had moments when you felt like the worst person to ever live

you thought about ending your life, to stop the pain

you felt guilt and shame so large, you thought there was nothing in the world that could possibly redeem you

you ran to hide when your family member would come home, you couldn’t bear being seen in ‘their part of the house’ (living room, dining room)

you were reluctant to admit anything that was bothering you to your parents or caretakers, because you already knew they would either blame you, or use it against you

you spiraled into dark thoughts, all on your own, telling no one

you experienced feeling so numb and lifeless, you didn’t know what was wrong with you, and it scared you

you couldn’t imagine yourself going far in the future, or accomplishing much at all, you felt it would be a miracle if you’re alive later on

you tried to blame yourself for anything that had ever happened to you, trying to get control over it, trying to make it so it doesn’t happen again

you got into media that is restricted for children (extreme violence, gruesome horror and gore, sexually explicit and sexually violent materials) and you absorbed it and told no one about it

you endured being harassed or violated by a predator and told no one about it

you were constantly scared of what everyone else was thinking and saying about you

you were ashamed of things you did and said and worried endlessly that somehow you caused something bad to happen

you felt as if your worst fear would always, always come true

signs you were not doing well as a child: