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#witness protection!Reader
imaginedreamwrite · 1 year
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Come Hell Or Highwater: Part 1
With his feet propped up on the corner of the desk and a lit cigarette hanging between his lips, he had felt momentarily content. The buzz from the tobacco had hit him, a welcomed kind of high that made the lingering silence in the room seem less egregious than it was.
Ari and Steve had received the call and the order to be reassigned from the case they were on, the directive had come from the captain of their specialized team and within an hour they had been ripped from one case and moved to another.
Their replacements had landed in the safety zone to relieve Steve and Ari, the two of which had been pulled directly into their top boss’ office.
“She’s 22,” Steve cursed and slammed the file against the desk, stalking around the desk and turning sharply to lean against the edge, “witnessed a high-profile murder on her way to the apartment from university. A hell of a thing.”
Ari drew in a puff and held it in his mouth for a moment before slowly exhaling, the dart between his fingertips glowing at the burning butt. He didn’t speak until he leaned forward and tapped the edge against the ashtray.
The pile of ah had been growing and he had been putting off dumping the tray in the trash like he should have, although he knew that he would eventually have to clean the glass. As he sat back, Ari finally addressed his brother.
“Wrong place at the wrong time,” Ari drew his gaze away from the ashtray and the file he had been pouring over, watching Steve tap his fingers against the edge of the wood, “22 is a hell of an age to have this kind of target on her head.”
“Fucking animal.” Steve cursed and momentarily twitched as if he could still feel Sister Mary’s switch against his knuckles, a repeated punishment they had all received from catholic school.
Their ma attempted to straighten out the triplets’ boyish and troublesome nature if only the switches and the punishments had worked.
“He’s carved men twice as big and tough, this girl-“ Ari lifted a picture of the woman they were assigned to protect and hide away, his captivating gaze studying every inch of the image in his hand, his lips forming a deep frown.
You were enrolled in a bachelor of music and composition course, and almost finished your degree with just over a year to go.
You had been kept late at campus while helping a friend create a composition that was going to be recorded for a final grade. You stayed behind because he asked you to and when it had come time for you to walk home to your apartment, you denied his offer for an Uber or an escort home.
You claimed you didn’t have long to go, and you didn’t. It should’ve been uneventful, it should’ve taken you less than fifteen minutes. Hell, you even had pepper spray in your bag in case something happened. You were, for all intents and purposes, protected one way or another.
And then your roommate asked if you could stop at the drugstore on the way home because she forgot to pick up her prescription and you were close. You were a sweetheart, you wouldn’t have let her suffer so you agreed. You took a detour because she asked you to because she was your friend.
Your errand had almost gone off without a hitch until you stepped out of the drugstore and took a side road, one that would’ve saved you a few minutes. You happened upon the assault, robbery and murder of a high-profile dignitary. The politician was recognizable, even if you weren’t involved in politics in any possible measure you would’ve recognized him.
And you had.
Not only had you recognized the infamous man, but you had also bared witness to him and his partner being robbed, attacked and brutally murdered.
You heard the twisted and sickening gurgle, you had felt the air shift as someone had taken their last breath and another was holding on for dear life.
You listened and you tried to help after coming out of hiding. You were a gentle soul who had called 911, you had waited and done all you could to support the man struggling for his life.
It was a twist of fate, a simple errand that had altered your course in life because you were a good person.
The men you witnessed from your hiding place hadn’t been aware that you were even there watching them, frozen in place and fearful that you had been next. They had killed their political target, and they had later killed the man in the hospital room. They thought they had eliminated every witness, however, they were innately wrong.
You were the only living and breathing person who could attest to their horrible acts, and that had placed a detrimental target upon your head. Once it was found out that there was a living witness, your life would be on the line and so would the case that was being built against their criminal empire.
With your safety in check, the triplets were called in. Ari Levinson, Andy Barber and Steve Rogers had all worked for the Witness Protection Program, triplets who had given themselves different last names in order to add another layer of personal protection.
Ari and Steve were the best the WPP had for agents.
The two of them were ex-navy SEALs, two men who were battle-hardened and incredibly skilled with as many weapons as they could get their hands on. They had taken every opportunity given to them to become deadly soldiers hellbent on protecting those that needed them most.
They had become out of the brotherhood and deadly them that had encroached upon some of the most terrifying and deadly missions that were thrown at their squad. They had served and served their purpose well, and only after retirement had they continued to do good with another agency.
Andy had chosen to go to law school instead of joining the military like his brothers had, choosing to take the avenue of criminal prosecution and the courts. His intent was just as noble as Steve and Ari’s, he had felt that drive and need to protect people who couldn’t protect themselves.
It was after he had graduated from law school, becoming more seasoned as a lawyer, that the three of them joined the program.
“-she’s safe. Andy is with her getting more details about that night. They’re waiting to hear just like we are, we need confirmation that the safe house and all the documents are ready.” Steve crossed his arms over his chest before he turned his head, gazing at the clock hanging off the wall.
They were called to their director’s office and told to bring what they needed for a long-term stay with no foreseeable end date.
They had been ripped off one case, set upon another and given little detail as to where they were going or what the game plan was. Even with the files they had read, and what they had been told, there was still so much hidden from them.
“Orders.” The door to the office opened, and one of their team members entered with a manila envelope for each of them, closing and locking the door behind herself. “Star witness is ready for transport and you two have gotten your alibis.”
“Married?” Steve exclaimed in surprise, turning over the fake IDs, the faux passports and two sets of keys. “This is the ploy?”
“You’re headed for an isolated, almost self-contained town in the middle of nowhere. You got married last year and are seeking relocation to escape the rush of the big city, you’re wanting to settle down somewhere quiet to raise a family. Ari is gonna be foreman with local lumber yard, Steve you’ll be working from home as an online editor, both of you are skilled with your hands.”
“And Y/N?” Ari had reached for the cigarettes to his left, flipping open the lid of the box to grab a white filtered dart, his fingertips grasping the end as he yanked it out.
“She has to be with one of you at all times. If she’s not with Steve at home, she’s with you at the lumberyard.” The agent and their longtime friend had come to rest her hands on her hips, watching the two men as they thumbed through the envelope they were given, looking at the necessary paperwork for their new lives.
“Where does Andy fit in?”
“This town you’re going to,” the agent drew in a breath and huffed it out in a short burst, “the entire town is made of polyamorous units. It’s the perfect cover for having three men living with or visiting her. No one would bat an eye at having a young polyamorous family like the one you’re acting as-“
“Polyamory? Won’t that attract more attention from these sick fucks?” Steve raised an eyebrow, gaze flitting toward Ari.
“There’s more of them out there than you think. Besides, the world is a big place and there’s a lot of rumours that she headed into Europe.” With a final look at the marriage certificate, the drivers licenses, fake passports, housing deeds, the story had been set.
“Andy travels for work, he spends more time away than home. Long stints abroad, a week here and there at home.”
The question that hadn’t been asked had received an answer and then their friend and agent nodded her head. “Let’s get you boys some wedding rings and get you settled at home.”
“And where’s our young bride?” Ari questioned, shoving his paperwork back in the envelope.
“With her third husband, waiting for you two. Let’s go.”
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magizombi · 3 months
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What if I started 6 million fanfic ideas and it took me my entire life to finish a single 1 og them
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carlosoliveiras-wife · 6 months
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i like to think about my guys getting spoiled with love. its healing to my brain
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Fleabag-ification of this, fleabag-ification of that. This is Ferris Bueller’s Day Off Erasure!
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gojorgeous · 5 months
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"creature of myth."
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pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+  ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)
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You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 
You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all. 
You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 
Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married. 
Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 
You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 
The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 
The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying. 
When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 
Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 
You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 
The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 
Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 
“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 
You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 
You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 
Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”
You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 
“Yes, my lady?” 
You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?
You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 
There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”
Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 
You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 
You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 
You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 
You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 
You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 
You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly. 
You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 
You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 
You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 
You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and- 
“Do you like them?” 
You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 
He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 
Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 
He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained? 
“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 
Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 
There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 
“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 
You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling. 
“Of course… Satoru.” 
He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 
“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 
“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 
There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever… 
“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 
You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?
“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 
He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.” 
You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?
Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 
“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.
Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 
His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 
“Not tonight.” 
His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 
His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 
“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 
You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 
~  
You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed? 
That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 
When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 
“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 
You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”
A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 
“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 
You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 
You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 
That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 
There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.
~
If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 
Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 
The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 
You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 
He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 
“It was… good.”
You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 
You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 
That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 
A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 
Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 
You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 
You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.
It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 
“You’re not… eating?”
That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 
Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 
You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 
The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 
By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 
“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 
“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 
You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 
He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 
You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”
His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 
You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 
He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 
When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 
He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 
You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 
His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 
“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 
~
You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 
Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 
As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.
~
The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 
The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.
~
You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 
You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.
Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 
Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 
You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 
It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 
You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 
“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 
You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 
“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.
A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 
“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 
Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 
“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”
You skip ahead again.
“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”
Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 
“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 
No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 
“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 
You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 
“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 
No, no, no. 
“(See next page for only existing portrait)”
Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 
You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 
Knock! Knock! Knock!
You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 
You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 
“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 
You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 
Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 
“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 
His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.” 
No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 
“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 
“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…” 
You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”
You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?
“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 
You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 
“About the estate?” he asks. 
You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”
His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 
You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”
“Anything interesting?” he presses.
This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 
He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”
You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.
“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.” 
You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.
His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.
“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 
“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 
You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 
He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…” 
You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.
He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 
Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 
“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 
He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real. 
“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 
“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 
“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 
You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.
He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.” 
Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 
“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.
“Mhm?” 
You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 
He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 
He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 
“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 
“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 
The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.
His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 
You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 
He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 
Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 
You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 
You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 
You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 
“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 
“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 
He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 
His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 
You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 
“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 
His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 
“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 
thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 
Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 
“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 
Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 
“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 
His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 
You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 
His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 
You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 
His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 
“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 
You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 
He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?” 
Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer. 
Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 
Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”
You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 
There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 
By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 
His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 
You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 
Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 
“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 
Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 
When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?
“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 
Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 
You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 
“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 
“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 
Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer. 
There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 
Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 
“S-Satoru–”
“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 
You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 
You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…
He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”
It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 
“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 
Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.
“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 
“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 
He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 
“Yes,” you whisper. 
His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 
He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 
“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…” 
He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 
Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 
His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 
When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 
His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 
He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”
You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 
He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 
“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.
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arabellasleopardcoat · 3 months
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Brace off tomorrow! Now, can I write a chapter in three days? We will see.
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chuluoyi · 2 months
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✎ heaven's fury
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- gojo satoru x reader
sometimes you forget that your husband has burdens as the strongest sorcerer alive. when he goes back home from a bad day and you're the first person he comes contact to, you're made aware of it once again
genre: angry!gojo, a bit of hurt with looots of comfort and fluff !! it’s self-indulgent too🤭
note: i knooow i said i'll post gojo angst next, but i forgot i have this in backburner too so... this hurt/comfort goes first :') based on an anon's request. loosely takes place after baby!
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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“Sukuna's vessel is a threat— he must be executed as soon as possible!”
“The more we put this off, the greater the risk he poses to society!”
“Gojo, you can't delay his sentence any longer—!”
Weak. All of them. They always make excuses. Trying to pin blame on someone else.
The jujutsu world he lives in… is wretched. Gojo Satoru thought he knew that well already, or at least knew enough to not get riled up over it.
Apparently not.
“Gojo-sensei? You look scary...”
Typically, he would mask his clear disdain with sharp-witted jibes, but he reached his limit this time. Especially since they had been pressuring him relentlessly to execute Itadori Yuji for at least five times a week, each week.
. . .
“Satoru, oh, you're home already!”
At the end of it all, he went home with the worst of moods. It served as a reminder—of his deep-seated contempt for weakness and how burdensome he found the task of protecting the insufferable to be.
“Satoru...?”
And it's because of their weakness that Suguru—
“Satoru, are you—?”
“Just fucking shut it!”
And that was when he saw you, standing before him with wide eyes, cradling your—his—precious baby in your arms, who was sound asleep.
“Huh…?”
Satoru immediately tensed up, realizing his mistake. And what hit him even harder was— is that a flicker of hurt he saw flashing across your face?
If so, then you quickly blinked it away because in the next instant, your face lit up with a warm smile— kind of forced, to his dismay. “Welcome home, Satoru.”
Something inside him churned, his heart started to ache, and there was a bitter taste in his mouth then.
There you were, as accepting as ever, and he cherished you for it.
But not tonight. Not for this. You didn't deserve any of his misplaced resentment.
Damn it. Damn it all!
In response, he offered you a subtle nod and headed to the bathroom, thinking a shower might help clear his foul mood away.
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Contrary to what Satoru might think, you didn't really hold anything against him.
You were surprised, yes, because he was usually such a ball of energy even when he got back from intercity missions, but more than the hurt, you would understand if now, he was pissed some way or another.
Your husband is still a human. He is entitled to be upset on some days.
After ensuring your son was comfortably asleep in his cot, you returned to your bedroom to find Satoru already in bed, facing away from you. Hmph... now that you thought about it, this silence between you was unacceptable.
“Satoru.” You poked his side, but he didn't budge and still had his eyes shut. You arched an eyebrow. “Satoru? You can't be asleep.”
“…” No answer. Okay, let's try something else.
“Honey, talk to me? Hmm?” you decided to swallow the heat on your face as you addressed him more intimately. Mind you, you didn't usually call him that. He was the one in charge of pet names.
“…” This shithead. That's it.
“Satoru, my tummy hurts—”
“What?” In an instant, he flipped over, abruptly sitting up. “What hurts—”
Seizing the opportunity, you tugged him by the neck, and both of you tumbled onto the bed, with him landing on top of you. Satoru instinctively held himself up and cushioned the back of your head with his hand so you wouldn’t crash into the headboard—his blue eyes wildly flickering, searching for any sign of discomfort or harm.
“You good?” he made a face upon realizing your ruse.
“You won’t talk to me otherwise,” you noted with a hint of annoyance. But then your eyes softened into a concerned frown. “Satoru… what’s wrong?”
Once again, Satoru felt hollow. You were worried and it reached him. “It’s nothing,” he replied, looking away, trying to downplay his fury.
You pulled him close, his head against your chest, and though he was stiff and taken aback at first, he released a reluctant sigh and instinctively snuggled closer, finding comfort in your embrace.
“There, there…” you soothed with a smile, gently running your fingers through his hair. “Feel better now?”
He let out another sigh against you, returning the hug and nuzzling his face against your chest. His body heat enveloped you like a blanket.
And after a while...
“...’m sorry for yelling at you...” he muttered with such regret it made your eyes widen. “Didn’t mean it.”
The slight prickle in your heart dissipated at once, hearing his muffled voice.
“Mm-hmm, I know.”
“Really.”
“Mmm, really, really.”
He held you a little tighter, breathing in your scent, and you kept stroking his head. He looked so despondent it warmed your heart, and made you want to pet him. “Our baby loves being held like this too,” you giggled fondly. “You big baby… you’re just like him.”
Your husband let out a soft grunt against your chest, exhaling deeply.
“Whenever you’re ready, talk to me, yes?”
And so after several more pats on his head, Satoru finally told you everything, about how the higher-ups were relentlessly pressing him to put an end to Yuji, the new kid he recently enrolled to the jujutsu school.
“They're just some paranoid old fools—”
“Mm-hmm.”
“—stinky, cringey, looks depressed most of the time—”
“Heh— now that's just plain disrespect.”
“Yuji is just clueless and just has a lot to learn,” Satoru grumbled sullenly. “They didn't even teach him a thing and incapable to— how dare they? To keep him ignorant and then murder him?”
...oh.
And at that moment, you found clarity. Why he got so worked up, why he got irate this time whereas he was usually insensitive.
First, it was because of your tragic youth. No one protected Haibara from his unfortunate incident and was there for Geto when he needed it the most—which still haunted him to this day.
And secondly, because he himself is a father too. No one deserves their youth being taken away. That has been his moral compass, and the sense grows even stronger ever since the baby was born.
It made something inside you flutter.
“Satoru...” you breathed out, smiling, squeezing him affectionately. “You’re ... a kind person.”
“Huh?”
“You take it upon yourself to mentor those kids,” you mused. “Just look at Megumi and Yuta; they've turned out just fine.”
Truthfully, Satoru didn't consider himself as kind as you made him out to be. At times he felt like he was doing it because it was right, sometimes he thought it was for fun, and at other times, he simply didn't feel like seeing more deaths or wrong paths. And he was sure if you had asked Megumi whether he was a good teacher or not, the grumpy boy would only roll his eyes.
But then, just as he looked up at you, the prettiest smile blossomed on your face, and you said to him—
“And as your wife, I’m... proud of you.”
The way you sincerely told him that made his breath catch in his throat, and his heart pound a little faster.
The woman who has become his everything. This unabashed, pure love you show him.
“Sweets, I—” he suddenly rose, back to on top of you. But his voice faltered, remembering the way he coldly snapped at you earlier. “I...”
You looked up at him innocently. And he swallowed the shame because he had to tell you too.
Because you were so, so incredibly precious to him, and he wanted you to know that.
“…love you,” he mumbled, his beautiful eyes meeting yours with no hesitation. His cheeks were burning, tinted with a shade of pink—and you out of all people knew best that him being embarrassed meant as good as him not being horny—
But before you could point it out, he leaned down towards you, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. There was no trace of the man who was hungry for your body— it was just a long, chaste kiss that contained his feelings for you.
And when he pulled back, both of you were panting slightly, trying to catch your breath. Then, he pursed his lips, his eyes glittery—somehow reminding you of your baby's face just before he cried out for his milk.
“I wanna pay for my sin. Wanna cuddle you too.”
And so you let him. He held you close, his arm under your head and you traced lazy lines on his chest, feeling contented and somewhat giddy.
“You feel that bad, huh?” you chuckled, noticing his continued gloominess.
“I am,” he puffed out his cheeks before pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Because if anyone else dares to tell you off like that, I'll wreck them on the spot.”
“Hmm, how romantic. But come to think about it... you did look a little scary though...”
At that moment, he felt his heart drop, his eyes instantly rounded in alarm, looking at you with dismay.
“No, no, I'm not scary! Wifey, I'm your devoted and loving husband!”
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Epilogue
Your morning started with your baby's cries. When you glanced over, Satoru was gone from your bed already. Curious, you made your way to the baby's room, and what you saw there caused you to raise an eyebrow.
"Satoru... what are you...?"
He turned to you with an expression so heartbroken as he rocked his wailing baby. "He keeps crying, I don't know why..."
However, your attention was drawn more to his disheveled appearance. Messy hair, slitted eyes as if he hadn't brushed off sleep, and most of all, the dark eyebags under his eyes.
"Uh, Satoru... give him to me."
When he did, your baby calmed down almost instantly, his sobs turning into light sniffles, and your husband could only scratch his head in confusion.
"Why...? When I tried to look at him, he cried even harder—"
"...no offense, but if I were a baby and someone who looks like a panda holds me up, I'd get scared and cry too."
Satoru let out a theatrical gasp, clutching his chest as he hovered over your baby—
"Nooo! Papa didn't mean to scare you—!"
...but to his horror, your baby turned away from him, hiding his face in your chest instead.
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sleeplessinseattlee · 10 months
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monday: started my new job drove 3ish hours round trip commuting to job (I’m about to move so it’s fine) had a good time and was not as anxious as I thought I’d be. and Then tonight I finished miles morales ps4 and it made me cry. also I had delicious pork fried rice for dinner. Fin
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angelfic · 11 months
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— IF I CAN’T HAVE YOU BABY
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pairing: mattheo riddle x nott!reader
summary: you weren't quite used to the attention of other boys, and it seems your brother's best friend isn't too fond of it either
warnings: brother's best friend trope!! swearing, kissing, not much else, very much unedited
author’s note: i don't tend to stray outside of the marauders era characters buuuut i've been a bit obsessed with mattheo and theo recently so this was for my own selfish needs lol as always let me know what you think!!
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He had barely looked away from you all evening.
You knew the only reason Mattheo’s eyes had been fixed on you for the entirety of dinner was because of a certain type of attention you had unconsciously garnered on your first day back at school. Particularly male attention. It wasn’t any less disconcerting, however, knowing that your brother’s best friend was prepared to fist fight any potential romantic advances towards you because he was just as protective as your actual older sibling.
Your brother Theodore is no better, a displeased frown appearing every five minutes when he looks over to where you sit at the Gryffindor table.
“Merlin, boys are pathetic,” Ginny mutters, spearing a potato with her fork. “You go away for one summer and come back slightly prettier and they flock to you like bees to honey!” You’re about to weakly protest that she’s exaggerating, but at that exact moment you’re interrupted by a tap on your shoulder.
You slowly turn on the bench, reluctantly lowering your goblet of pumpkin juice to face Michael Corner, a Ravenclaw boy who you’d only ever spoken to when he was going out with Ginny.
“Hi, Michael,” you sigh, offering him a bland smile.
“Hello, Nott,” Michael replies, with what he probably thinks is a winning smile. “Had a good summer? I was just going to ask if you wanted to go on the first Hogsmeade visit of the term with me.”
You stare at him, unblinking. “Er- well, as… nice as that sounds,” you say slowly, not meaning a word. You glance at Ginny as pointedly as you can manage and raise an eyebrow. “I don’t quite relish the idea of going out with my best friend’s ex.”
“Oh! I, erm, I didn’t actually see you there, Ginny,” he stammers, laughing sheepishly. “My mistake.”
“Quite,” Ginny says drily, turning back to her plate of food.
“Well, er, see you later then,” Michael mumbles, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes back to the Ravenclaw table.
You bite your lip to stifle your giggles but it’s not long before you catch Ginny’s eye and the both of you erupt into fits of laughter.
“I can’t believe I ever went out with him,” Ginny groans, wiping her eyes.
“Was he always such a tosser or is that new?” you ask, snorting at the way Ginny scrunches up her face in embarrassment.
You’re still laughing when your eyes happen to pass over the Slytherin table just to focus on Mattheo.
You notice with a jolt that he’s looking at you again. This time, his eyes flick over to the Ravenclaw table for a second where Michael has settled back onto, then back to you and he quirks a brow quizzically.
Frowning, you mouth at him to stop in hopes that he ceases his scrutiny, just for him to roll his eyes and return to whatever one-sided conversation Blaise Zabini was attempting to engage him in. You hope you don’t look as flustered as you feel after realising Mattheo has just witnessed such an embarrassing encounter, but you’ve found over the years that you’re not the best at hiding the effects he has on you. Theo has never mentioned it in front of Mattheo as far as you’re aware, but he definitely hasn’t shied away from teasing you about the childhood crush you have on your brother’s closest friend. Not that you’ve ever admitted it to him anyway, and you’ve gotten a lot better at hiding it since nothing could ever come of it.
“Your brother and Riddle have been looking like they’re ready to halve the male population of Hogwarts since we got on the bloody train,” Ginny says, pulling you out of your thoughts.
“Tell me about it,” you sigh, cutting into your carrot a little more viciously than needed. “They keep looking over at our table. I feel like I’m on one of those Muggle reality television programmes Hermione was telling your dad about the other week.”
Arthur Weasley was absolutely transfixed when he was learning about reality television from Hermione during breakfast the week you both stayed at The Burrow, and although you zoned out after his sixteenth question about a singular programme, you feel as though you caught the gist of it.
“Hm,” Ginny agrees, grimacing at the memory. She had nodded off at the table during that conversation and fallen asleep on her slice of toast. “In fairness, that’s not really a new thing.”
“What, being watched by my two guard dogs?” you ask in a mock-serious voice.
“Yeah, but…” Ginny chews thoughtfully for a second before answering. “I’m not just talking about today, or even recently. Your brother mostly minds his own business. I’m talking about Riddle. He’s always looking at you, I noticed it last year. Wherever we are, kind of like he’s checking up on you,” she says like it’s common knowledge, shrugging. “It’s sweet, I guess.”
You blink at her, a little speechless.
“What?” Ginny frowns after a few seconds of your silence. You look at her with raised eyebrows, not really taking her seriously. In your first few years at Hogwarts, you had confided in Ginny regarding your silly, little girl feelings for Mattheo and she would read into every action he took towards you in an attempt to prove he liked you too. Obviously, he saw you as nothing but a younger sister figure and once you grew up a bit, Ginny had let it go too.
Ginny reads your dubious expression now and sets down her knife and fork to cross her arms. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I’m serious! I’m not just saying it because you were helplessly in love with him until you were, like, fourteen.”
“Shush!” you hiss, thwacking her arm. “Why don’t you just get up on stage with Dumbledore and ask him to include that titbit of information for the entire school to hear in his speech!”
“Good idea,” she says, nodding seriously and starting to get up. You know she’s just teasing, but you start spluttering and frantically grab at her sleeve to sit her back down, causing her to topple onto you slightly. This sets you both off laughing again and you find it hard to stop for the rest of dinner and desert, thankfully staying far away from the topic of Mattheo. You also pointedly avoid looking at him again.
Once dinner is over, you head to the Gryffindor common room with the rest of your house and catch up with everyone for a while. After a couple hours of socialising and fifteen minutes of helping Neville Longbottom search for his pet toad, you head up to your dorm with Ginny and Lena, one of your other dormmates, to unpack.
As soon as you open your luggage, you search for your pyjamas and immediately change out of your robes and into a t-shirt and baggy shorts for comfort. You’re in the middle of unpacking some textbooks when you hear Lena whistle from behind you.
“I do not remember those pyjamas looking like that,” Lena comments, grinning at you. Rolling your eyes, you comply with her request to do a little spin and you can’t help feeling pleased when Lena and Ginny start whooping and hollering. “You’ve always been gorgeous, but you really grew up this summer, huh? Look at those legs!”
“Tell me about it,” Ginny pipes in, flopping down on her bed and abandoning her unpacked suitcase. “She came to stay for a week and Mum looked like she was going to cry every time she saw us. Something about ‘blossoming into young ladies’ or whatever bollocks.”
“You ‘blossomed’ last year,” you point out, and Lena hums in agreement. “I haven’t forgotten how Zacharias Smith fell off his broom trying to wave at you during Quidditch practice.”
Ginny groans and starts ranting about teenage boys again. Lena joins in and starts teasing her about how Harry Potter is the only boy she hasn’t complained about and you’re about to set down your belongings to help Lena dodge the pillows Ginny is throwing at her when a flash of green and silver in your suitcase catches your eye.
“Shite, I have Theo’s uniform,” you huff, grabbing the clothes out of your suitcase and sliding your slippers on. “That means he has mine and I am not dealing with this at seven in the morning. I’m gonna go drop this off, be back in a minute.”
Ginny says goodbye before resuming her pillow attack on Lena as you make your way out of the room and down into the common room. It’s nearly empty, with most people having gone to their rooms to pack and a quick glance at the clock tells you its past curfew. You decide to take the risk since you have a reasonable excuse, but you hope that if you do get caught, it isn’t by Filch or Snape.
By the time you’ve reached the dungeons, you thank Merlin that Theo had the sense to tell you the password for the Slytherin common room before dinner in case of emergency.
“Pureblood,” you mutter, fighting the urge to scoff when the door swings open. You enter the common room and brighten up when you see that the only students still hanging around are Theo and his friends. Your brother seems to have already started unpacking since he’s standing and holding your uniform, presumably about to come and find you. His friends all mumble polite ‘hello’s and he walks up to you with a smile.
“Oh, hey, I was just-” Theo cuts himself off when he properly looks at you and frowns. “Wha- Why are you wearing pyjamas out and about?”
“You’re wearing pyjamas too!” you exclaim, slightly embarrassed that your brother is doing this in front of your friends. They all turn to look at you again, hearing the indignation in Theo’s voice and you notice Mattheo suddenly sits up straighter. Suddenly aware of your bare legs, you tug down the material of your shorts, despite the fact they aren’t even very short to begin with.
“Oi. Stop looking at my sister!”” Theo snaps, glaring at Blaise, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. You know the only reason they glanced at you in the first place is out of curiosity regarding Theo’s question, but Theo and Mattheo scowl at them all the same and they all start sputtering, Draco in particular when Pansy narrows her eyes at him. Theo sighs at you, quickly exchanging your uniforms. “Just- at least take something to cover up back to your room.”
“I’ll walk her back,” Mattheo says, out of nowhere. He stands up and makes his way over to you, face carefully blank. Theo nods, agreeing quickly before he ruffles your hair goodbye to go and finish packing. You’re too surprised by Mattheo’s offer to protest until you’re already out of the Slytherin common room.
“I don’t need someone to walk me back, you know,” you mumble after a minute of charged silence.
“It was either me or Theo,” he shrugs, completely unapologetic when his mouth quirks up in a smug smile. “And I know you prefer me.”
“You’re both equally annoying,” you say, rolling your eyes, happy that he’s talking to you like normal again. You hated it whenever Mattheo was serious – it was rarely ever towards you and you much preferred when his whole face lit up with a smile. He begins to tease you about your bunny rabbit slippers and you’re in the middle of pretending to be irked when you both run into Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff prefect doing patrol duties.
“Hey,” Ernie offers you a friendly smile and gives Mattheo a brief, slightly nervous glance. While you prefer not to get into trouble for breaking curfew, Mattheo clearly couldn’t care less and his relaxed, yet intimidating stance must be off-putting to Ernie. Thankfully, you’re on friendly terms with the Hufflepuff and you give him an even brighter smile to make up for it, to which he beams at. “How was your summer?”
“Good, yeah! Erm, listen Ernie. We didn’t mean to be out at this time, it’s just that I accidentally had my brother’s uniform and needed to-”
“Oh, forget it. Don’t worry, I won’t dock you any points,” Ernie reassures you, waving off your excuses and you instantly relax. Ernie gives Mattheo another unsure glance before leaning in the tiniest bit closer to you. You try not to pay attention to how Ernie has been glancing at your legs and how Mattheo tenses up when Ernie starts speaking again. “I was actually wondering if you were available next weekend…?”
Ernie trails off when you don’t show any indication of replying straight away and you snap out of your surprise to say something, but Mattheo beats you to it.
“She’s busy then,” he says coldly, working his jaw. “Now, if you don’t mind, it’s late. Kindly get lost.”
“Wha- Matt!” you hiss, smacking his chest to which he barely flinches, nor does he look at all apologetic. “Ernie, I-”
“Never mind,” he says quickly, seemingly eager to just leave. “I’ll, er, see you later.”
You stand frozen in shock while Ernie rushes down the corridor and turns the corner, leaving you and Mattheo alone. Turning slowly, you look at him with barely contained anger.
“Why the hell did you do that?” you demand, voice sharp as nails. If it weren’t past curfew and you weren’t in the middle of a school corridor, you would most definitely be yelling. Mattheo stands with his hands in his pockets, clenching his jaw and his silence makes you even angrier. You accepted long ago that you’d never have a chance with him, but now he was getting in the way of you having a chance with anyone. It was completely unfair. “What if I actually wanted to go out with him?!”
Mattheo scowls at this, but his impossibly dark brown eyes flash with a hint of uncertainty. “Did you?”
“What?” you ask, impatient.
“Did you want to go out with him?” he says, voice low and dangerous. He walks forward, towering over you and you refuse to be intimidated so you start walking backward until your back is against the wall. Despite having cornered you, he maintains a fair amount of distance between you, leaving plenty of space if you want to move away. You don’t.
“That’s none of your business,” you say stubbornly, raising your chin and trying your best to keep your voice steady. Mattheo narrows his eyes and reduces the distance between you ever so slightly with another small step. You nervously keep talking. “I can go out with whoever I want.” Another step. “And you can’t just-” One more step. “Matt.” His shoes are flush with your slippers.
“What?” he whispers, tilting his head and looking at you calmly, while you feeling anything but calm. “I can’t just… what?”
The previously respectable distance has gone out the window and instead you barely have space to breathe with the way Mattheo is leaning in, head dipped toward you but never touching, hands resting on the wall either side of you. He leans in, eyes dropping to your lips and your heart leaps in your chest with anticipation, but he ghosts his lips over your jaw instead and the barely-there contact has you breathing unevenly.
“You can’t…” you exhale, trying to finish your sentence with some dignity and failing miserably. “You can’t just scare people off like an overprotective older brother.”
Mattheo stills, lifting his head enough to meet your eyes, but making no move to distance himself any further. He scoffs quietly. “Brother,” he says the word with a mildly disgusted scowl. “Is that what you think I want to be?”
“I- I don’t…”
“You don’t know,” Mattheo finishes for you, the corners of his mouth turning up, yet his expression is devoid of humour. “No, you don’t know how badly I wanted to hex Macmillan just now. How badly I wanted to try out some new, experimental spells on that fucking Ravenclaw earlier. But none of that had anything to do with brotherly feelings.”
“They were just being nice,” you say stupidly, with not a clue in the world as to why you’re defending them right now. If anything, you’re just confused.
Mattheo quirks a brow, tongue pressing against his cheek as he considers your words. “That Ravenclaw from earlier was talking about you on the train. He said he was going to ask you out at dinner because you’d ‘gotten hot’ over summer,” Mattheo sneers, like he’s suddenly regretting not hexing Michael Corner in the Great Hall. “They weren’t being nice.”
All of a sudden, you feel irritated because you have no idea why Mattheo is telling you any of this. “What’s wrong with a boy finding me attractive? Is that such a crazy idea?” you demand, part of you not wanting him to answer.
“Merlin, do I seriously have to say it?” he groans, sighing when you glare at him. Mattheo takes a breath, meeting your eyes and you marvel at the sincerity you see when he speaks. “You didn’t ‘get hot’ over the summer. You’ve always been beautiful and they’re idiots for not paying attention then.”
Your breath catches in your throat, whether it’s from emotion or from the close proximity with Mattheo, you aren’t sure. “You think I’m beautiful?”
Mattheo nods, leaning back in to brush his nose against your own, his breath mingling with yours. “Always have.”
You take this as a cue to grab the collar of his shirt and pull him in and the next thing you know, his mouth is firm against yours, and his hands are finally touching you, grabbing you by the waist and sliding up your back to hold you closer. You’ve thought about kissing Mattheo before, but the thoughts feel utterly stupid compared to the real thing. Mattheo kisses you fiercely, mouth sliding hot and wet against your own making you come alive and weakening you at the same time. He nips at your bottom lip and you gasp, causing him to smile into the kiss. Your hands are sliding up his chest to snake around his neck when a thought suddenly occurs to you and you pull away abruptly.
“Oh my God, Theodore,” you hiss, covering your mouth with your hand. Mattheo furrows his brows, looking a little dazed and confused. “What are we going to tell him?”
 “He knows I’ve loved you since we were kids,” Mattheo says flippantly, waving you off and impatiently starting to lean in again, but you stop him with a hand on his chest. “What?”
“You’ve loved me since we were kids?” The words hardly register, but before you can feel any sort of elation, you mostly feel pissed off that your brother has clearly had his fun with the situation for years. “And Theo knows?”
“Yes,” Mattheo says slowly, as if he were talking to a child. He brushes the hair out of your face and his gaze turns a little uncertain when he speaks. “Er, this is hopefully the part where you say you feel the same way.”
“Well, of course I feel the same way,” you huff, still thoroughly annoyed at Theo. “He knew I was crazily in love with you too and the bastard was so irritating about it!”
You’re about three quarters of the way down a list of ways you want to get back at your brother when Mattheo gently turns your face by the chin to look at him. “As much as I’d love for you to plot against your brother right now, it’s kind of a mood killer thinking about him when I’m kissing you.”
“Sorry, sorry. Continue with the kissing.”
“How romantic,” he says drily. His smirk turns smug, however, when he processes your previous statement. “So… you were in love with me too. What was the word you used, again? Crazily? Crazily in love…”
“Don’t make me take it back, ‘cause I swear I will.”
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© angelfic 2023.
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hoshigray · 3 months
Note
Hey 🫶🏻 Can I request having sex with Sukuna when he is extremely jealous? Like reader is kinda popular and other guys always tryna flirt with her and shit (she is not interested ofc) So when Sukuna saw another man shooting his shot he needs to blow off steam by fucking you dumb 🤕 and he saying shit like “what a good little cocksucker, maybe I should record you and send this video to all those bastards, so they would know who’s dick you’re gagging on” 😭 I’m so sorry if this is too specific, feel free to ignore 😭
Love your works 🥰
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: ofc ofccc !! and ty for loving my stuff~
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; you and Sukuna are college seniors - rough sex - fingering (f! receiving) - impact play (spanking + pussy slaps) - oral (m! receiving) - dumbification - choking - backshots + legs-up positions - degradation (cocksucker, dumb bitch, slut, whore) - overstimulation - clitoral play (pinching and swiping) - pet names (dove, little girl, princess, woman) - possessive behavior (it's sukuna, duh) - use of a phone; sexual photography and videography - heavy depictions of a blowjob - mention of tears and spit.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.5k
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“—Khaahh, oohhh!! Sukuna, pleasee, it hurts—Ahhhnn...!”
“Who said you’re in any position to tell me how to handle you, woman?… Fucking shit, you’re tight as hell…”
Everyone knows that you are off-limits. Knowledge of this fact is the bare minimum when dealing with the one known as “Sukuna’s girl” — no one should dare lay a finger or bat an eye on his woman. And yet, somehow, Sukuna continues to find strays that think this rule doesn’t apply to all. 
He saw it not too long ago today when a guy came your direction at the hall, concealing himself in the shadows to eavesdrop. The junior was dumb enough to invite you to some get-together, foolish enough to think he should even be speaking to the partner of the cold and intimidating Ryōmen Sukuna. 
You were the most popular girl in the class year — expected as Sukuna wouldn’t deal with someone who wasn’t [barely] on equal footing as him. However, unlike him, you carried a much kinder cadence. You greet others with sweet words, converse with professors in a mutual light, and engage with everyone with a compassionate and tranquil soul. — the complete opposite compared to your boyfriend. So, of course, it would be hard for you to turn away people when they come to you for guidance or opinions. 
In this case, you had expressed to the junior that you weren’t interested and had plans to study at your boyfriend’s apartment later. It wasn’t a complete lie, yet a respectful diversion that was expected of you and pleased Sukuna observing.
However, the dull-witted brat put his hand on your shoulder and continued to press on, emphasizing that you’d miss out on people wanting to have a good time with you. A ballsy thing to remark as if saying your boyfriend holds no priority over some boring party. Besides, the man had to stop the itch of coming out of the shadows to strangle the kid for laying his hands on you.
Nonetheless, you gracefully pushed his hand aside and apologized again for declining his offer before heading on your way. The situation was disentangled, both parties carrying on with their days. But that wasn’t enough to calm the salmon-haired man. 
Especially when you were in his apartment, protected under his gaze the entire time; you were sitting across from him at the coffee table while sorting through your coursework, unaware of the fixed look of his red eyes on your frame. Because all he could do was look at you, replaying the interaction from earlier today. 
It all angered him deeply — how the junior said your name so casually, the laughs you shared with him, and the touch on your shoulder. Everything from that moment added fuel to the fire scorching in his gut. He couldn’t relax, knowing there were still imbeciles who had the gall to act so familiar with you, his princess. 
The twitch of his brow couldn’t cease, same with the bounce of his knee – his nerves having an inner battle of maintaining a low profile. And being the caring piece in this relationship, you noticed. You blinked up to where he sat, “Is everything okay?” 
Of course not, woman. As much as he wants to put all the blame on the guy, Sukuna felt that you also played a part in this charade. To him, you were just as worse as that fucker. How could you, his precious dove, allow such trash to be so close to you? Allowing that thing to touch you was such an insult to him, downright disrespectful to the man you call your boyfriend. And the fact that you didn’t think of telling him — believing that you could keep this as a small matter insignificant to his awareness — left a sour taste in his mouth.
In his philosophy, Sukuna knew you were in the wrong as well. And for that, you would also have to be dealt with by him, to be reminded of your place in all this.
“Ohoooo! Ooof!! ‘kunaaaa, your fingersss…! Too fast, please slow—Daaahhh!!”
He’d smack your wet cunt, forcing you to grip his satin sheets. You’d instantly try to close your legs, but Sukuna wasn’t having any of that, quick to pinch the skin of your inner thigh to correct you. 
“Dumb bitch,” he throws insults, void of caring that you were on the brink of tears. He brings a hand to your throat, resulting in you gagging from your circulation being cut off. “I told you to keep those legs open. First, you let some fucker touch you, and now you can’t obey me when necessary? Do you enjoy disrespecting me like this?”
“Ahck! I–hic–I’m sorryyy,” he could feel you clench on his fingers, gripping them as if you refused to let them go.
It humored Sukuna, who effortlessly removed his digits to give your slit another harsh slap that made you gasp for air. An action proved difficult with his whole right hand constricting your airways. “Are you? How can you be sorry when you’re latching onto my fingers like a slut?” His hold on your neck goes tighter; your hands claw at his forearm, a desperate plea that doesn’t sway him. “Say it like you mean it, Y/n.”
“Khh..Ahh—Please, forgive me, Sukuna…!” Your apology came through wheezes, tears now welling up to fall on your pretty face, yet you knew it wasn’t enough. “I should have…Never let that junior tou—Mmmph! …Touch me… I’m your princess, only yours.”
A pink brow is lifted, but his expression remains unchanged. With one last slap to your leaking chasm, Sukuna lets go of your throat for you to cough and gasp as much air as you can. While you do that, he removes his turtleneck and unbuttons his dark jeans, bringing his briefs down to spring his erection out before lying back onto the pillows against the bed headboard. “Prove it then,” his voice has you turn to listen. “Suck me off the way I like it.” 
You are in no position to resent him, crawling towards him on all fours and immediately going to work. Your tongue greets his reddish-pink glans with swirls, licking his frenulum and nibbling on the skin before taking the head to your mouth. You lather his cock with your spit as you bob your head, hallowing your cheeks to take in every inch while your hand glides up and down his shaft. 
“Nnmph, fuck,” Sukuna groans at the feeling of your feverish sucks of his cockhead, your hand stroking him while you tend to him with your mouth feels too good. He peers down to watch you suck hard on his tip, and you return his gaze with a hooded look while sucking on his balls, causing him to hum. You then bring the tip back into your lips, making raunchy noises as you take his girth and lick his precum. 
“Heh, what a nasty little girl,” he comments after you exude a trail of spit onto his dick before hurriedly slurping him back inside your warm mouth. “I outta take a picture of you…No, a video is better.” He’s pleased to see your watery eyes twinkle with dread when he pulls out his phone from his jean pocket. He slides to open the camera application, “Maybe I should show that fool how such a good cocksucker you are for me.”
“S–Sukuna, please, anything but—Mmmm!” Again, no one said you were in a position to speak out of turn. Hence why, your boyfriend grabs your cheeks roughly with a single hand. Crimson eyes pierce through your fragile skin, and your figure fills with fright within milliseconds. 
“What did I say about giving me orders?” His tone is enough to send shivers down your spine, his nails denting your cheeks. “Does my woman want me to expose them for the filthy whore they are? Cause I couldn’t care less if I one day start leaking these shits and have your reputation crumble in seconds as a lesson.”
A tiny bit of you wants to believe he wasn’t serious; however, the single tear shed from your unblinking eyes tells a different conscience. You reply with a shaky breath and a quivering lip. “No, Sukuna...Please forgive me.”
He releases your chin with a push of the thumb. “Then get back to it, dove.” The sweetness of that pet name wasn’t present as he smacked your cheek with his length. You listen to him, taking him back into your throat with a euphoric mewl while cupping and kneading his balls. He sneers and presses the record button, “Just like that, princess.”
And don’t think that it ends there — because it doesn’t. 
“Ahhhnn! Oooooh, my God, ‘Kuna..’kunaaaa, I can’t—Ahahnn!”
“—Nngh, that’s right, Y/n; scream for me…Fuck, this tight ass pussy…”
Sukuna now has your face down ass up, pinning you to the satin mattress by the shoulders and hammering his bare cock right into your messy cunt. Your cries are muffled by the sheets you bite into, tears streaming down hot cheeks as your boyfriend plows himself deep side your core. The commotion coming between your sexes fills his bedroom outside of the squeals that bounce against the walls.
Your figure jolts with every thrust, Sukuna’s pelvis smacking on your ass that stings with hot skin after taking onslaughts of slaps from his hands. Your clitoris, exhausted from the constant tweaks and pinches, rests with the cool air treating the sore button. Sweat is covered all over your nude body, evidence that you and your boyfriend have been going about this for a long while, and of course, you’re getting a bit fatigued and overly sensitive to his every touch. But you know he doesn’t care; this is all for your punishment.
Sukuna throws your butt another smack, having your vaginal walls instinctively contract around his girth. He hisses with a grin, “Damn, I love seein’ you like this.” His eyes trail down from your sweaty shoulders, following your spine and hips, down to your ass, where he sees the insertion of his dick being swallowed by you. Seeing the white, soapy ring shielded around his cock makes him bite his lip. “All sore and dirty for me…Mmmph, gripping on me like a slut, going dumb on my cock.”
His hips then propel erratically, having your howl with eyes shooting up. You were too far gone to think of proper thought, with your brain churned into mush and your head pounding nonstop. The heat on your face is just as unbearable as the throbbing sensation down south. Your trembling legs try so hard not to give in and slump, yet you can’t lie; you’re tired, sore, and sticky all over. 
“Nmaahh! OhhhJesussss, ‘kuna, pleaseeee, lemme cummm—Mmaahh!” Another smash to your ass, followed by a pinch to your clitoris to juxtapose with the slow strokes he uses to massage the delicate spots of your walls.
“Why do you think I should let you cum, woman?” He swipes on your clit, listening intently to the whines that climb higher with the brush of his finger. 
Your words come out in slurs, yet you must answer to him. “I’m shorryy, I didn’t mean to—oh, fuck…do you wrong. Yer the only man who can touch me, wound me,” You peer over your shoulder to see Sukuna, an action that has him release your clit and hear what you have to say. “And love me…just as I love you, and only you. No one else can have me like you…Hahhh, I’m yours, both in mind and body…” Salmon brows furrow as you continue. “I love only you and want only you to touch me, ‘Kuna..Please forgive me, I won’t do it again…”
He was already sold once you turned to look at him, you little minx. Your watery eyes suddenly struck his heart — you are the only thing in the world that could do that, his little dove. He can tell by your heaves and pants that you wish to rest, that you had enough of his lesson and want to be in his embrace. 
However, no unpleasant deed shouldn’t go unpunished. Within a second, Sukuna has you flipped on your back with your legs brought up to his left shoulder. He brings out his phone once again, swiping to put on the camera after inserting his length back inside you.  “Hey, princess,” he calls to you. “Why don’t you say hello to the camera for me? Want something to look back to.”
You gulp with a dry throat, sheepishly smiling at the camera phone. “Hello, I’m Y/n—Ooohh!!” He surprises you with more ruts to your chasm, clamping onto him as if your life depended on it. 
“Who do you belong to, Y/n?” He calls out to you with a steady breath, as if his pelvis wasn’t poisoning deep to grind your insides to evoke pretty moans to escape puffy lips. 
“Hahaaa!! I—Hnnph..I belong to Sukuna Ryō–hic…men…”
“Who does this pussy belong to, Y/n?” Ruts become harsher with every word.
“—Mmoohhh, fuuuhuck, it’s yours, only yoursss,” you voluntarily take up your legs and hold them from behind your knees, bringing them to your chest. “Me and this pussy belong to only Sukuna, no one else can touch me…!”
Sukuna pans the phone down to the union of his dick, moving to and fro from your slit. The white essence painting both sexes was making an erotic mess, strings of his come covering his girth with every push and pull. He chuckles to himself. “This right here is all mine, ya hear?” He looks at you to see you nod your head hurriedly. “Don’t you ever forget that, understand?” You nod again, clenching around him when he drops the phone and leans towards you to place his hands on yours.
It’s here that he finally finishes with you, pounding his hips into you as hard as he can. Your voice gets higher and higher, your headache getting intense with the ruts on your cunt. And with how he stretches and grazes your walls? Jesus, it was terrible to control yourself, your orgasm increasing by the second. “I wanna cumm, ‘kunaaa, let me cum on you, pleaseee….!!”
“Heh, desperate to tighten some more for me, huh.” He adds more weight onto you, forcing you to submit to him. You shudder under his bow, “You may now cum, dove.” 
As if on command, you let yourself loose and allow the climax to finally be free, wailing during yet another crescendo as your vagina flutters around him for the fourth time that night. And Sukuna relishes the feeling of you tightening on him, doing excruciating slow strokes to enjoy the moment. 
“Hmmm, that’s it, just like that…Remember this, princess,” He bends down to lick the tears on your cheeks before kissing them. “Know your place.” He then brings the phone back up to close this session.
“Now smile for me.”
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requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are wholeheartedly appreciated ☆ header edit done by me, dividers by @/benkeibear.
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screampied · 3 months
Note
can you do soft sukuna after an argument vegas for fluff pretty please i think we deserve it after all you've done to us
໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ MAYBE I’M THE PROBLEM﹒⺡ SUKUNA RYŌMEN. ’
sum. gn! reader, angst with c-comfort, he’s a softie at heart, fluff, petnames, ty lucy for beta'ing <3
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“what’s with you today?” sukuna furrows his eyebrows, and he lightly grabs your wrist. you face him only to briefly look away with a stubborn scowl. “you didn’t have to do that. i can take care of myself.”
he was referring to earlier…how careless you were, at least from his perspective. throwing yourself in danger just for sukuna. perhaps it was stupid, but at that particular moment—you didn’t have a thought that crossed your mind.
“well, i did,” you mumble, and sukuna bites his tongue from the inside of his cheek. his nostrils flare before he grabs your shoulders.
“what are you not getting? and if you died trying to protect me, then what?” and for a brief moment, it was dead silence. you stared at sukuna, and you can’t remember a time he looked like this. sukuna was … scared. the more you looked into his dark eyes, once full of arrogance and wit — instead, his pupils dilated and widened. his thumbs gently pressed into your skin, and then he continues to speak. “how can you even be calm about something like that?”
“i wouldn’t have to do things like that if you’d just be more careful,” you chastise, a sudden wave of gloom spraying over you. sukuna kept pausing every few seconds, as if he was carefully thinking of what to reply with.
sukuna’s almost got a glare before he sighs. “i told you. i can take care of myse—”
“no, you can’t sukuna. you know how many times you’ve almost died? the countless days where i’d be worried sick about you. if anyone’s reckless, it’s you. and you wonder why i act like this, it’s because i’m in love with you, you idiot.”
you don’t even register your words, it’s as if you’ve been yearning to get that out for ages.
sukuna grows mute, trying to figure if he actually heard what he’d just heard. you…you were in love with someone like him?
the awkward silence was deafening, a single tear strolls down your cheek before sukuna’s face suddenly softens.
he brings a thumb up to your cheek, swiping the tear aside before muttering in a raspy, “you love me?”
“i thought it was pretty obvious,” you grumble, avoiding his eye contact. your heart ached, never in your life have you felt this vulnerable. saying it out loud only made you flustered immensely quick. a soft smile goes against his lips — you didn’t answer his question, but he knew the answer. you loved sukuna. “but whatever.”
“oi. don’t ‘whatever’ me,” sukuna mutters, cupping both sides of your face. he has you stare right into his eyes, the eyes where most see a cruel villainous person, you see the softest eyes imaginable. reserved only for you. “look at me,” and you finally meet his gaze, a smug grin slowly tugs against the corners of his mouth. “you’re in love with me.”
a weird tingly feeling crept up inside your stomach, and you give sukuna a glare. “you know,” he keeps speaking, a soft finger stroking your cheek. “instead of almost dying for me, you could have been normal and just said, ‘i love you’.”
“…shut up,” you grouse, entirely abashed. he found it cute seeing you like this. in the midst of your mini tantrum - sukuna hums to himself, leaning down to kiss your forehead.
“hmpf. well, i suppose i love you too, brat,” he utters, watching your face briefly light up at his words. sukuna saying it back couldn’t have made your heart swoon even more, but it did. “and i’m sorry for being so careless.”
you felt butterflies collide inside your tummy before you blink, ears perking at his first initial words and you pout. “you suppose?”
sukuna looks down at you before he awkwardly pats your head. “i … love you,” his voice was a mere soft rasp. studying his stare, sukuna started to grow a tad bit embarrassed. even more than you. as his fingers softly roam through your hair, he leans up close to your face and scoffs. “happy now?”
“i love you more,” you smile, feeling more relieved. he’s taken aback once you hug him. sukuna’s always been so stiff at something as simple as a hug. your frame held his waist tightly, and he’d never admit it but it was adorable.
sukuna scowls. “…. you’re squishing me.”
“shut up and hug me back.” you sigh, only taking this as an opportunity to squeeze him tighter. he was so warm.
usually…sukuna wouldn’t let anyone get this close, yet alone do this. a simple affectionate hug.
he groans, slowly wrapping his arms around you. “you’re so annoying,” and as your head rests against his chest — you look up at him, a soft smile goes against your lips. “pain in my damn ass.”
“talking about your ass isn’t romantic, ‘kuna.” you raise your brows . . . obviously kidding, but he groans.
with an eye roll, sukuna does the unexpected and pulls you up close towards his face. with a perplexed grin, you watch as he grabs you into a chaste kiss. it takes you by surprise, your hands remain flat and still before you wrap your arms around him. sukuna’s soft with you, you made him soft—and he hated it, but a tiny part of him secretly loved it too.
abruptly, he pulls the kiss away before glaring at you. “i love you.”
“i love you too, kuku.”
“…..call me that again and see what happens.”
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imaginedreamwrite · 1 year
Text
Come Hell Or Highwater: Part 2
“We can start from the beginning, from when you first left the campus.” Did he introduce himself already?
Did he tell you his name?
Did you remember what he said or when he had even come into the room?
You were lost in your mind, you were distracted by your torrid thoughts barraging your nerves with the constant reminder that you previously had blood on your hands. You swore you could still feel the eerie warmth and the way it seemed to stick to your skin.
You could remember it all as it had just happened, from the smell of dank moisture that crept into your senses to the feel of wet concrete below your knees as you tried to help him. You can remember crawling out of your hiding place with adrenaline coursing through your body.
But you couldn’t remember his name.
You couldn’t remember asking for water or getting water. You couldn’t remember using so many tissues as you sat across the lawyer in this room, or why your voice was so hoarse. It was a blur, it felt like a blur to you, and yet you could remember the scene you happened upon while trying to do something nice for your roommate.
You could remember the phone falling from your hand when one of the officers at the station told you that the man the ambulance had taken to the hospital had died from someone screwing with his IV. You could remember the panic and fear, even the chill of the leather seat in the police cruiser as they escorted you to the station to answer a few more questions.
That had all been a lead-up to the moment you were transported further and set into this room, under the watchful eye of some federal agents since you were the only living witness to the crime that wouldn’t be completely unsolved.
You were the only living person who could have aided the case against someone you had never heard of, the man who ordered the hits had assumed it had gone off without a hitch until it was reported that someone was still living and someone was a witness.
It was just the two of you in the room although there was an audible and video motion capture camera hanging on the ceiling that was watching you. The room was bare and seemed dim despite the bright lights that beat down on the two of you.
You found yourself unable to focus on anything but the piercing blue eyes that were fixated upon you, the colour striking and bold. You couldn’t have been sure if you remembered his name correctly but those eyes…
“Y/N, I want you to know that you’re safe here. You’re safe.” He reminded you twice before, constantly reassuring you that nothing and nobody was going to harm you while you were here. His reassurance was stalwart and steady, it was as ironclad as you could have expected, almost as if it was his creed to keep you shielded.
“What’s gonna h-happen to me?” You were on the verge of tears again, your breath hitching in your throat as hot stinging tears obscured your vision.
You had wiped your tears and drew your hands back to the table, rubbing your fingertips over any wall scratch or chip that you could find.
Your mind was both your ally and your enemy, the testimony of that night was engrained and vividly being replayed in your mind over and over, and yet another part of your brain was telling you that you were going to meet your end. “I don’t want to die-“
“You’re not going to die,” he reached forward and rest his hand upon yours, his gaze soft and protective, “you’re not going to die. I promise you’re going to be safe.”
Your bottom lip trembled. Your breath had become strained and you turned suddenly in your seat, facing away from him as you bit down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from letting every verbal sound fall from your tongue.
You were riddled with fear, you were in a violent cycle of panic and anxiety, and the resulting surge of emotional weakness was grating to you. You didn’t know what to say or how to react, all you could feel was the acid in your stomach churning as if you were going to succumb to the feeling of nausea.
“Look at me, Y/N. You need to look at me so I can tell you what’s happening.” His voice was like honey, smooth and sultry. Slowly you turned to look at him through blurry vision and with your hands balled into your sweater, knuckles tucked under your chin.
“You’re going into the Witness Protection Program, you’re going to be relocated. There are two agents who are going to take you somewhere safe. There’s a whole story contrived and created to protect you and not raise suspicions about the three of you in one house.”
“I don’t…” You angled your head and wiped your cheek against your shoulder, the trail of tears that had rolled down your cheeks and neck had almost been dried before your latest bout. “What kind of place is this?”
“You’ll be moving there under the guise of a polyamorous marriage. It’s an easy way to explain two men and a young woman moving in together, no one will ask questions. No one would think anything of this situation you’ll be in.” His voice never wavered from comforting or supportive, his eyes had never once lost their comforting lustre or empathy, even as he dove into the explanation of what your temporary future would be and you were left feeling conflicted, he was kind.
His eyes, which you had been so enthralled by, had remained as light as when he first sat down. He had given you his entire attention, focusing and fixating everything on you. There had only been one instance when he stepped away to take a phone call, and even then he kept a watchful eye on you from across the room.
You were in and out of thought, either completely silent or quietly stewing and mumbling to yourself, a clear divide between acceptance of the mess you were caught in and disbelief.
“Y/N,” he spoke again after a bought of quietude, pushing his chair back to stand, “we have to go. They’re ready for you.”
The chair scraped against the floor with a sound that made your ears hurt, the squeal reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard and you’d visibly winced. You tried not to recreate the same sound when you pushed the chair out from under the table between you, your eyes flickering toward the movement you caught through the window of the room.
“I promise,” Andy stopped you from moving too far, holding you in place with his sturdy and husky rasp, “you are going to be okay.”
A knock sounded on the door, the rapping of knuckles was another indicator that your life was going to be uprooted and held in someone else’s hands. You were going to have to put your trust and faith, your entire future, into the people destined to keep you hidden and safe from the clutches of whatever devil wanted you dead.
“Ari, Steve.” Andy had greeted two men across the threshold of the room, standing at a half angle toward you, allowing the two guards you’d be relying on to get their first look at you.
You took in the stock of the men, you took in the similarities with wonder and mild confusion. You were already rattled, your mind already seemingly frayed and debilitated by what screwed-up mess you were in, and it had taken you longer than you would’ve liked to realize that they were almost direct carbon copies of each other.
“You’re triplets.” You mumbled, clutching the sleeves of your sweater as if it was some kind of comfort or shield for you to cling to, and your stipulating statement was confirmed correct with a nod from Andy.
With few differences like one of the triplets having a clean face while the other two had beards, and the man with a clean face having more blonde in his hair than not and the same blonde having more green, they were almost like clones of each other.
Although Andy appeared to be the smallest in physical size, he was no less tall than his brothers and the three of them had conductively made you feel like a rag doll compared to them.
“We have to leave,” the blonde spoke, holding the door open further for you, “Andy we’ll see you in a few weeks.”
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You couldn’t stop staring at the ring on your finger, the foreign piece of jewellery carried weight that you hadn’t expected and it was with silence that you’d observed and studied the object. It was simple and minimalist, the metal carved and formed to look like branches made of rose gold that extended to the claws holding the gem that was at the centre of the ring.
The claws were set in forms of three all equally spaced around the centrepiece, holding it into place securely, giving the ring an ornate and unique design. It was smooth against the pads of your fingers as you played and toyed with one of the pieces given to you as part of this grand act you would be required to keep up.
The ring was just part of it, a small detail as you crossed into the unknown with the two men who were agents part of the witness protection agency. They were ex-Navy SEALs and had done tours in some of the most dangerous and deadly territories in the world, completing missions that were more than your imagination could handle.
They were your protection as you fled to a small polyamorous town to be shielded until you could face trial as a witness, the two of them would be your only hope in avoiding death by whatever means this faceless phantom had wanted for you.
You didn’t even know who was after you, you didn’t even know the man who ordered the hits that had wiped out two lives. You had only bared witness to the men who committed the crime and the orders that came from above their station were like a faceless monster hiding in the closet.
Steve, Ari and Andy knew although they wouldn’t tell you. They wouldn’t give you any notion of who wanted to eliminate you, and you wondered if it was because you were already dealing with enough as it was.
“You can ask later.” The statement given to you by Ari, the eldest of the three, had been a directive to what was temporarily hidden from you.
It was one of the few things they had said to you before you were given the keys to an older truck that would take you from the city to whichever small town you were destined for.
The truck itself was unassuming and heralded rust spots near the bumper and the wheel wells, giving the truck an aged appearance that wasn’t captivating enough to draw attention. You didn’t know much about vehicles beyond the basics, and you had no detailed opinions on the transportation that was part of the overlying picture.
To you it was another token that added to this story they were trying to convey, it was as fake as the passport and identification you had been given while your real ID was kept safe or destroyed. It was as false as the ring on your finger, as the marriage certificate that legally bound you to Steve and the ‘open relationship’ you were in with Ari and Andy.
For the time being, you would be putting on act. For the time being while you were under their protection, you were settled in this polyamorous relationship and your performance in this situation would either aide their efforts to keep you safe, or it would be one of the things that tore you apart.
“Ari’s back.” Steve’s voice had pulled you from your daze and your hands fell back to the seat, fingers gripping the seam when the other statuette man started walking back to the vehicle from the doors of the gas station.
His eyes were focused, his head was tucked ever so slightly to keep his face as disguised as possible from the cameras that had been set up for security in the parking lot. His long strides had brought him back to the driver’s side of the vehicle, before opening the door he had looked to the left and the right as another security measure.
The door popped open and he tossed one of the bags back to Steve without a word, a seamless action that didn’t require much thought. The plastic bag was snatched in one fell swoop and set on the seat beside him, tucked between the duffle bag behind your seat and his right thigh.
“I got you something to eat, I didn’t know what you wanted.” Ari had stolen your attention off of Steve by holding out another plastic bag for you to take, the thin material weighed down by a bottle of water and a container with a whole sandwich held between the folds of the container.
You reached out and grasped the handles of the bag, bringing it toward yourself with uncertainty, and then you rest it in your lap. You peered at the contents inside, studying the generic label on the water bottle and the nutrient contents of the simple ham sandwich with a lack of hunger that didn’t do much for you.
“Thanks.”
“You should eat something.” Steve leaned forward as he spoke, his fingers folding the handle of the bag down to peer inside. “There’s not much, you need to eat.”
“Is that an order?” You ripped the bag away from his, snapping at Steve with sudden and biting fire that was rooted in your helplessness. “Are you ordering me-“
“You haven’t eaten all day. We still have hours to go.” Steve hadn’t reacted with anger or aggression, he had almost seemed to absorb your anger and your irritation with ease, and not a single beat of retaliation had come from him. “You’re not doing yourself any favours-“
“I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want…” You yanked the bag into your lap and turned away, your eyes trained and fixated on the pillars of the gas station as Ari began pulling away, the rumble of the engine not overshadowed by the quiet crooning of the voice on the radio.
Music played as silence had fallen between the three of you again.
It had been a relatively quiet trip, even between the two who had switched out driving halfway through the trek. They made conversation with each other at times but you had never felt the need to enter into it. You seemed to be happier in your silence and quietude, thinking endlessly about your life and what you had to leave behind.
“I know you’re scared,” Steve spoke again, his voice and his attention on you even if you weren’t giving him the time of day, “Ari and I are going to keep you safe. This is our job.”
“I shouldn’t have done it, I should’ve told my roommate no. If I would’ve said no…if I would’ve gone straight home…” You whispered to yourself, your hands twisting the plastic bag while you watched the scenery morph from slight urbanization to rural again.
It was a far cry from the city, a far cry from the constant noise and steady stream of traffic and people who were involved with each other’s lives whether they knew it or not.
The concrete streets and steely buildings had given way to nature and greenery, to the dense and towering pillars of mountainous terrain that would be your home for the unforeseeable future. You were put in a position where you had to trust Steve, Ari and Andy because if you hadn’t you would end up dead.
“Y/N, this is not your fault.” Ari had relayed his own message of comfort and reached out with his hand to rest it on yours. “None of this is your fault.”
You bit down on the inside of your cheek and screwed your eyes closed. It was all playing out in your mind, relaying over and over again like a broken record. You were the cause of your own breakdown, or at least it had felt that way.
“You need to eat,” Steve’s voice was thick as honey and as comforting as a warm blanket, his directive sinking into your bones with a gentle demand, “do you need help opening anything?”
“No,” you reached into the bag and yanked the sandwich out, using your nails to tear the sticker off the enclosure, “I can do it.”
You returned to silence as you lifted one half of the sandwich out of the plastic, nibbling on the bread while the radio played in the background. You ate like they wanted, taking your time while feeling their eyes on you occasionally, their steady gazes delivering a sense of warmth and resignation that staved off some of the chill in your bones.
“We promise, sweetheart.” Your teeth dug into your cheek when Steve whispered a vow to you.
You knew you had to get used to the pet names that were standard for any relationship, you knew that when you arrived at this new place, people would be expecting you to be in love and recently married. It wouldn’t help your cause if you flinched or reacted negatively when they addressed you as their wife.
“We’re all here for you.”
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suguru-getos · 10 months
Text
࿐ husband neuvillette headcanons (f!reader) ࿐
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neuvillette, the most respected man in the nation of hydro, more than their archon focalors. he commands respect wherever he goes, his aura still polite, ever so approachable. however, the power of his position cowers people. they are often rendered scared to approach him, some of them literally profusely sweating around his nimble aura.
you, were his wife now, his significant other. someone he cherished more than life itself & someone who made you feel safe, heard, protected. it was said that he was the most sought out bachelor in fontaine before he left his heart for you one day. “break it or keep it. it isn’t mine anymore.” is what he said, when he proposed you. oh the words ring into your ear like the finest melodies till date.
the steambird/ the media was eager to cover everything about the wedding; but to their surprise— neuvillette took you outside fontaine. the city of freedom — monstadt is where you two tied the knot in the presence of a certain, melodious and a high alcohol simp bard.
truth be told, once you were married. there were people who forced false allegations on you. how you manipulated the chief justice into falling in love with you. how you are fake and you act in accordance to his liking to be loved by him. some people even tried to forge false cases against you. all of which— deeply entertained furina. thankfully, neuvillette was never someone to pay attention to any of these things. at one time, he himself fought for you in a false trial. you couldn’t be more thankful.
rains— the legend of hydro dragon weeping causing the rains was famous throughout the country of fontaine. one day, when neuvillette came home a little early, looking distressed, you noticed a harsh, unforgiving thunderstorm drenching the country. you walked towards the terrace, looking up and gently, soothingly whispering. “oh- hydro dragon. please don’t cry.” the rain… lessened. it was as if the intensity had been lessened.
it wasn’t more time until neuvillette confessed to you about him being a hydro dragon. ever since then, whenever there had been rains in fontaine, you make sure to find your beloved husband and hug him tightly, kiss his forehead and tell him everything will be alright. it breaks you apart seeing him like this after all.
sometimes when he comes back home, he always brings your favorite flowers, maybe your favorite desserts, along with a beaming smile only you have seen. people who are aquainted to you often ask if neuvillette being the chief justice and being the most powerful man in fontaine makes your married life difficult. truth is.. it could never. they just haven’t had any access to the good that your beloved dragon holds.
things do get riff-raffy when furina acts a little too childish around him. he pays no attention to her self-centered, self-absorbed behavior but it pinches you how she bothers him for every little thing. once, there was a celebratory banquet held for the same and your displeased face told neuvillette in that very instant — how you’d like the archon to ‘behave’ around your husband. he has been extra careful ever since. <3
your husband might look stern, but he is a soft man. you have witnessed this first hand with how respectfully and tenderly he treats you. on the bad days of your period, the chief justice is nothing but a doting husband for his wifey. you can always be snuggled up to him and cry, or just spend time.
he is a HUGE cuddle bug. would love to destress off work by wrapping his big arms around you and peppering your face with tender kisses. he smells amazing too! always making you feel warm and fuzzy inside.
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ozzgin · 4 months
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The wonderful wizard Ozz. I have had this concept stuck in my head like a worm!
Could you imagine a Darling escaping from their Yan, not to run but just to feel the rain on their skin? I've been consuming this prompt like a heroin addict and I can't seem to get enough!
If I were to expand your prompt, I quite like the idea of a Yandere that can't really go full yandere because Reader is just too willing. He loves yandere content and can very much relate, but none of the escalations can happen if, well, the object of his obsessive affection doesn't protest in the first place. Is it too far fetched from what you'd imagined? Let me elaborate:
Yandere! Male x Willing! Reader
AKA: When you want to be a Yandere, but your Darling unfortunately cooperates.
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The Yandere has been stalking Darling for months. Journal entries, walls plastered with photos (and the occasional creepshots), recordings. He just can't get enough of his Darling. He loves everything about you and can barely function throughout the day, fantasizing about your life together.
Enough is enough and he finally decides to make you his. He's been consuming media of similar tropes, with obsessed men pleading for a chance and having to force their way in because of rejection and fear. He's prepared for everything. Your tears, your trembling voice, your hands pushing him away. He finds you, approaches you and confesses his feelings, knuckles white as he grips his fists in anticipation. Your eyes widen for a moment, before narrowing in a smile. "I had no idea! Sure, I'll go out with you." Huh? Wait. This wasn't...this wasn't in the plan. Somehow he'd been certain you'd refuse. He must've mumbled the last part out loud, because you respond with "Why would I say no?"
A very good point indeed. You will change your mind, however, once you learn the extent of his love. You're holding his hand and following along as he takes you to his place, completely and utterly unaware of what you're about to witness. He can't truly be your boyfriend if he has to hide his very nature, after all. You might be disgusted, frightened, offended. He can already hear your screams, demanding explanations. It's all out of love. "It's okay if you don't understand", he mumbles to himself, watching your frozen body as you gaze into his room. You take a couple of steps towards the nearest wall, tracing the hundreds of images with your fingers. "Wow. You never mentioned being into photography", you remark, impressed. "It's like an exhibition! But...you might have to work on your angles", you blurt out, a little embarrassed, pointing to one of the creepshots. "This isn't very flattering. Did you take it in a hurry? It makes my legs look disproportionate." He can only stare, taken aback. "S-sorry" is all he manages.
Okay, but don't imagine your life will continue as usual. You've only seen a glimpse of his adoration. Now that you're officially dating, he cannot allow anyone else to have access to you. You have to understand, he cannot protect you properly if you're not under his watch all the time. As much as he cherishes you, he will have to be rough if needed. That's what he tells himself as he shoves the required tools in the trunk of his car, speeding towards your apartment. Once there, he fidgets on the sofa, considering his speech. You seem to be just as uneasy - perhaps you're predicting what's to come? - casting your eyes down and giving short answers. "I think you should move in with me." He states solemnly. You gasp and throw a hand over your mouth, and tears quickly well in the corner of your eyes. "How did you...how did you know?" You say between sobs. Huh? "I didn't want to burden you with my problems, seeing as we just started dating...but my landlord won't renew the lease. I was so scared I'd be homeless."
He clicks his tongue. This isn't very yandere, more like the average couple experience. You bring the final moving box to his car, fitting it in the trunk. "By the way, what's with all the rope?" you ask. "Just move it aside", he sighs. How can he explain it? He's been training, sweating and bleeding for a marathon and right before the whistle, they handed him the first prize. His muscles are aching for the sprint that never happened. Of course he's grateful to have you at last, but somehow he feels like he hasn't proven his dedication properly. You just don't get it, do you? How sickening his love is for you.
As the days pass, he eases into his role of...how does one even call it? Pseudo-captor? When you found his journal, you blushed and confessed how no one before him put this amount of effort into knowing you. All the male contacts from your phone vanishing? It was about time you cleaned up your acquaintances and it was nice of him to help. The AirTags he's hidden in your bags and pockets? You appreciate his safety concerns. Nowadays, with all these perverts freely walking the streets, you can never be too sure.
One morning he wakes up to an empty bed. He jolts up, dazed. Could it be his wish was finally granted? You must've gotten tired of him and tried to escape. Oh, silly little Darling love. You should've known there's no more walking out once you said yes. He checks his phone and pounces out, ready for the hunt. As he sprints along the street, he finds you suspiciously close to his home. Not very smart of you to...what are you even doing? Your hands are raised up, fingers fanned out under the pouring rain. You notice his presence and turn to face him with a wide, childish grin. "I haven't done this since I was a child. When was the last time you felt the rain on your skin?" Only now it occurs to him he's been running in this downpour and his clothes are soaked. He was too focused on finding you.
"I thought you escaped", he almost whispers. "Escape? From what?" You tilt your head in confusion. He places his cold, large hands over your cheeks. "Do you comprehend I'm very much obsessed with you? I'm not joking around. You're never, ever leaving me. You're stuck here forever. I mean it. I really do. I'd rather kill you with my own hands than let you go. Because I love you." You take a moment to admire the intricate patterns of his irises, pupils dilated in a spiraling madness. By the end of his erratic oration, he's panting and digging his nails into your skin.
"I know."
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slutofpsh · 17 days
Text
f1 racer | psh.
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part one
pairings: park sunghoon x reader
synopsis: f1 racer park sunghoon is the ace of their team until he got into a terrible accident causing of his sudden hiatus. the incident injured his shoulder and affected his mental health. you are hired by his mother to help him get through this tough times as you are one of the best psychiatrist in town. he hated the idea of being vulnerable so instinctively, he hates you. he hates how you try to get into his head for him to open up and he hates his parents for meddling with his life like he’s a kid. but he couldn’t deny that you are exceptionally beautiful and he can’t help his cock from twitching just by imagining pushing you down on your office table, fucking you deep and hard until you can’t think straight anymore.
wc: 14k
warnings: mdni. smut with slight plot, lots of dirty talking, degrading, corruption kink, minors dni, p into v raw (please always use protection), dom sunghoon, slight rough sex, reader experiencing sexual harassment. IF YOU DON’T LIKE ANY OF THIS PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SCROLL AWAY.
note: i have no right and enough knowledge with medical terms so disregard my claims as it came from my imagination to fit my plot. i’m new with writing smuts so please don’t give rude comments. i am still learning. also please send me asks and reblog my work. it will help a lot. thank you so much!
slutofpsh 2024 © all right reserved.
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“Famous ace racer of the team (f1 team) reportedly caught on an accident last night. Medics who said to arrive at the scene says that he was in a bad condition...” the voice of the news reporter serves as your background music as you’re busy putting coffee on your brewing machine.
It was yet another busy monday for you. One of your colleagues gave you a ring moments ago just to ask you for a favor to fill in for her. You’re suppose to go at the hospital after lunch, but that plan was thrown far out the window.
Being someone who needs to pay expensive rent and lots of bills, you accepted it in exchange of receiving her full payment for these sessions.
People around you always says how workaholic you are and that you should at least learn to loosen up, have fun, date and have sex. You’ll be lying if you say those thoughts didn’t popped inside your mind once in a while, but you knew you have bigger responsibilities at the moment.
Maybe you’ll do all that once you’re a little bit more stable in life. Right now, its not the case so you have to go work.
The drive to the hospital you’re currently working at was short. Multiple vans of tv media reporters blocked the parking lot, putting you off into a slightly foul mood. You groaned and tried your best to find a good spot without scratching any of the vehicles around.
“What in the world is happening...” you softly mumbled, clueless.
After finally making it inside alive, you saw your secretary arriving just on time. She smiles and wave at the sight of you and head towards the elevator together. The sight of the security pushing the reporters out caught your attention before the door of the lift shuts completely.
“Wah, media these days are scary. How can celebrities stand them?” your secretary commented, probably annoyed by all the chaos at the lobby.
“Yeah, they’re basically getting crazy down there.”
She nods, agreeing.
“I can’t blame them. One of the biggest personality in our country got into an accident last night so they’re probably trying to get a scoop of information as much as they can.” she continuously fills you in.
Your head nods slowly, not totally interested about the ‘one of the biggest personality’ being mentioned. This hospital is pretty much located at the center of the big city and famous people often comes here. It isn’t a big deal anymore for you.
Besides, you're more interested on how you will make more money rather than be nosy of who’s confined at your hospital. The last thing you would want is to get involve with a big personality.
The day went on smoothly, met up with the clients scheduled for today. You started packing up after your last session, it was around 4pm. This is why you like to be busy, because its more convenient for you. Days pass by quickly and you’re off to your home even before you know it.
Three knocks from the door to your office is what snapped you back to reality. Your white coat hangs slightly loose over one of your shoulder as you’re about to take it off. The possiblity of that person knocking to be your secretary is low, since she usually alert you through the intercom that she will come in before knocking.
After taking off your coat, your eyes are still darted at the direction of your office door.
“Come in.” you softly stated and you heard the sound of the knob moving.
“I heard from the lobby that you are here so I thought I should make a visit.” his professional tone, yet a little softer rings to your head.
Your eyes grow a little out of surprise then you bowed your head for greeting. His eyes scanned you shortly before it moves around your cozy office. He already made multiple compliments on how your office just feels so warm and comforting.
That’s exactly the vibe you wanted to give off when you personally chose the furnitures and design for this room. Since you’re a psychiatrist who focused on patients who experienced traumatic incidents in their life, you don’t want the location of your sessions to have the impression of a workplace. Patients usually go here to meet you for sessions and their peace of mind and comfort is what you prioritize the most.
“Oh, thank you...” you flash him an awkward smile, hands rests at both of your sides.
It isn’t a surprise that your director paid you a visit for today. He always does that in order to keep on check with his employees. You appreciate it, truly. It's just he’s a little too friendly towards you. Sometimes it makes you uncomfy and afraid that other doctors may misunderstood things.
“Anyway, you must had a long day.” he took steps closer and when you’re reachable, he stretches an arm over you. His hand rests at your shoulder and he clapped on it gently before sliding it down your arm to caress it.
It sent shivers through your spine and you didn’t like it one bit. Unfortunately, you have no choice but to live through it for now. As he’s very powerful and one bad word from him and you can kiss your job goodbye. That’s the last thing you want.
“I should leave you.” he says in a low voice while eyes roams around your face.
You hated every second of it, but you didn’t say anything. He smiles and you flashed him one as well. He raised his hand and lightly pinched your cheeks once before exiting himself from your office.
Finally out of your sight, you manage to sigh heavily. You've been holding your breath ever since he entered your office. It’s slightly making you feel bad, but you feel like he will take advantage of you sooner or later. The feeling of uneasiness are very evident whenever he’s around you.
It’s bad to judge people easily, but that’s mainly it is. You’ve spent years studying and understanding human’s way of thinking. Resulting for your instincts around them to be heavily accurate most of the time.
And your instinct are setting off negatively with your director. The only solution you can think of is to quit this job after you have enough money to build your own small clinic.
In order to have that, you have to work extra hard. For your dream and for your peace of mind.
You finished packing your things and left your floor. While inside the elevator, it stops at a certain floor. You unconsciously moved towards the side giving whoever it is a space for the lift. When the door opened, a beautiful woman wearing black sexy dress steps in.
She seems surprised to see that there’s somebody inside and so her teary eyes grew a bit big. Avoiding to make the atmosphere even more awkward, you bowed and flashed her a warm smile. She nods and glanced away.
Based on how she carry and dress herself, you can tell that her line of work may have something to do with her face. Model? That’s one of your guesses.
By the short eye contact with her teary eyes, you catch a glimpse of guilt and small regret filling them. And also greed that’s trying to push them all at the back of her mind.
You tried to shove these thoughts off of your mind as you’re practically done with work. Even if you cannot help trying to read people’s personality base on first impression, you have strict rules of avoiding it once shift is over.
You’re the first one to leave the lift as you get off at the lobby where you entered this morning. Ignoring her eyes watching you closely as you walk off without sparing her any glance.
It was a long day for you and the last thing you want is to get involve with some drama. Obviously, she’s going through something. But what’s new to that? Everyone in this world is going through things. We just really have to keep it altogether and wait until things gets better for us.
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It's been months and you put your focus on making money. Working really hard, filling in for your colleagues and also attending your own session. It was a routine you got used to, world revolving between home and to the hospital.
“There she is,” you bowed politely as you enter the office of your head doctor for the psychiatric ward.
Three heads snapped at your direction as you approach closer and the two of them are completely unfamiliar for you. By the way they dress, you can already tell that they’re important people. The type of people who reeks of money and connections.
“Mr and Mrs. Park, this is Doctor (surname).” your director introduced you to them. Even if you’re a little confused, you gave them a polite bow before sitting down at the chair in front of them.
“She’s the most recommended psychiatrist in our hospital and I really think she’s the one who can help your son.” the director added that made you realized that the two people in front are potention source of income.
With a warm welcoming smile, you pay close attention to the two of them to give good impression. Mr. Park have a serious look on his face, just a small smile from earlier and that’s all. Just by the looks of it, he’s a very reserved man. He seem to know the power he holds and so you guess he isn’t someone very friendly. Doesn’t really try hard to please other people.
Mrs. Park is elegant. The perfect epitome of graceful partner of somebody who holds so much power. She is very pretty as well, her smiles gives you the impression that she’s very family oriented.
“Their son needs assistance as he got involve with an accident months ago.” your head doctor tried to fill you up and instantly, you are on your professional mode.
With a nod, you smoothly fished your pen placed at the small pocket of your white gown then grabbed a paper not far away from you.
“Hmm, may I ask you guys a few questions?”
Mr. and Mrs. Park’s a little caught off-guard at how straightforward you are so they glanced over the head doctor. She quickly flashed them assuring smile.
“Go ahead, I’m sure Doctor (surname) perfectly knows what to do.” she added and with her words, they seem to let their guards down slightly.
“Yes, Doctor.” Mrs. Park says.
You smiled, “Does the patient personally asked to seek for professional help?”
Its a key point to know for you to know what kind of approach you need to utilize for this particular patient.
“No. Actually, he refused to see doctors and deny his need of it, claiming he’s perfectly fine. But me and his Father really wants him to atleast try.” the look on her eyes flashes genuine care and concern for her son.
“That’s totally okay, Mrs. Park. Sometimes, people who underwent accidents tries to deny that something changed within them when in reality there is. May I ask any behavioral changes within the patient, if there any?” and you continued jotting down on your paper.
Mr. Park silently watched how well you’re dealing with them. You looked so young, maybe around the age of their son and yet this is how professionally you handle things. His tensed shoulder relaxed a bit, realizing that they did the right choice of coming here.
“Yes...” Mrs. Park pursed her lips, blinks a couple of times trying not to get emotional just by the thought of her son.
“He shuts people out, doesn’t communicate with anybody and he gets pissed or annoyed so easily.” she sighs, eyes getting teary. “I mean, he doesn’t really have the best patience even prior to the accident but he’s just oddly cranky.”
You nodded your head and just proceeds on writing them down. This isn’t the first time you encountered patients that have the same personality with their son. This is what happens when someone had an accident that affected their life. They can be undergoing through post traumatic depression which is pretty serious as it can be dangerous.
“Can I schedule his sessions?”
They looked relieved at your question, happy that you agreed to take their son. Mrs. Park nodded her head and you continued on discussing them through the process of the sessions, letting them the available slots they can arrange for their son.
Normally, you would take patients to meet patients two times a week but they demand for a three meetings per week. You are a little hesitant about it because that only means you have to put him on Fridays as well. It's your day off.
“Please, Doctor. We will pay extra for the friday sessions.” and there it is. They offered you what you couldn’t decline the most.
Oh how nice could it be to have so much money. After finally settling with the Parks, you managed to agree on the schedules and they thanked you. They told you that they really hope you can help their son. You haven’t met him yet and one rule with doctors is you couldn’t give them false hope, but you shouldn’t give them the impression of failing as well.
“I will do my best.” and you bowed.
You parted ways with them and you went straight to your shared room with your colleague, also a good friend of yours. The moment you stepped in, you can feel her piercing and curious eyes following you.
“So did you accept it?” your head cranes over to the side to glance at Hana. She’s still wearing her white coat while she rest her back at the swivel chair. As far as you remember, her shift is over already. Why she’s still here is a big mystery for you.
“Yes. It’s a good offer.” you gave her a short shoulder shrug.
She sighs and watch how you took off your white coat then hangs it on your chair. Obviously, you are clueless of the situation you just got yourself into. She hates how workaholic you are and how you’re one of the best psychiatrist in the hospital. Mainly why you’re at the top list of the recommended doctors.
Not that she envy you or anything. She genuinely cares for you and she’s worried of how you’re overworking yourself. Not to mention you’ll be having someone very important as your client.
“Do you know who’s going to be your patient?” her tone sounded challenging, arms crossing as she waits for your answer.
You nod your head, eye glancing at the folder laid beside your keyboard. It was handed by your secretary while you discuss something with the head doctor. She reminded you to do a good job as accepting the Park’s can either do good or bad for you.
“Yes. Mr. Park Sunghoon.” you said in a monotonous tone.
She rolls her eyes, “He’s not just Park Sunghoon, y/n.” she sighs and tilts her head. “He’s the ace driver of a famour F1 team. The young bachelor who got into a terrible accident three months ago.”
That clearly rings a bell. You can remember how some of the hospital staffs are going crazy for such individual. F1 racers are truly a big thing for your country, but you’re never interested towards it so don’t have any clue who they are.
You’ve always thought that those type of sport are just out of your league. If he manages to drive for the whole country with extremely expensive cars just indicates how wealthy their family is. Sounds like so much drama for you. Not totally your cup of tea, all you want is the good pay.
“Don’t worry, I can handle.” you assured her.
“I know you’re good with your job, y/n and I have no doubt with your skills.” she starts that slightly moved you. She rarely talks like this and to hear it right now means she’s really serious about it.
“He’s known for being very stubborn. If he’s already like that before the accident, imagine how he can be much worst after it. I heard he’s refusing to do rehab for his shoulder and to drive again for his team.”
You are dumbfounded for the new informations coming from your friend. When his parents seeked for your help, you already knew that it is serious. But not like this. He’s refusing to drive again?
“y/n?” your friend tries to snap you back to reality.
You let out a sigh and flashes another smile for her. “Did you forget? I’m good with stubborn people. I've been dealing with them ever since I graduated from the University.” you tried to joke on it.
She pouts her lips and heaved a sigh, thinking that maybe she really is just overthinking things. She nods.
“Well, you are right. And besides, he’s dead gorgeous.” then she sent you a wink. You scoffed and rolled your eyes.
“You’re unbelievable.”
But it seems like she was not kidding when she said that Park Sunghoon is very hard headed. You think little of it not until you came face to face with the handsome racer.
His visuals are ethereal. No words can perfectly describe how breathtaking he is up in person. Of course, after your friend had informed you that he is handsome, you made research. Trying to just familiarize yourself with your newly acquired client.
It wasn’t hard to find something about him through the internet as he’s very famous. Skin so white and flawless, hair pitch black along with his thick brows and long eyelashes that perfectly decorates around his beautiful eyes. His eyes are slightly cold and blank at the pictures of him you found at the intenet. Over all, he has a face that comes around once in a while. God-like visuals, that’s how they describe him.
The pictures didn’t give him justice though, as he’s even more gorgeous in personal. His red lips pretty much stands out due to his pale complexion.
There are varieties of patients you’ve worked with before. The group who's willingly seek for your help in order for them to get better. Then the patients who was forced to do these sessions for the satisfaction of a family member or a loved one. And then the ones who truly hates it and give you hard time, punishing you for merely wanting to help them professionally.
That’s where Park Sunghoon is aligned. He made sure you perfectly know that he’s against with this arrangement.
“Son, meet Doctor (surname). She’s the one we’re talking about with you. From now on, you will meet her at Mondays—”
“Make her leave.” he insolently cuts his own mother’s words while staring blankly straight at you.
He’s sat down at his sofa, one shoulder have a cast over it. He didn’t even budge from his position and just stares at you with his intimidating eyes. The gray sofa looked a little small while he dominates it. You’re pretty sure that it looked normal when it was his Mom whose sitting there moments ago, but when it was him it looked small due to his large frame.
“Sunghoon, don’t be rude. Doctor (surname) is here to help you.” his Mom looks like she feels sorry for how he’s acting, yet her tone remained soft.
“I don’t need any help.” he said sternly. His eyes are piercing right at you. They are indeed intimidating with his eyebrows furrowed hardly, but this isn’t the first time someone wanted you to leave.
“But Son,” Mrs. Park tries to console him but you interrupted her.
“It’s fine, Mrs. Park.” and you flash her with your warm smile.
“Can you give us a minute?” your eyes then roamed around the room. There’s his Mom and another person inside together with you. She’s the househelper who assist Mr. Park from time to time. A little older than his Mother. Base on your observation, he seems to trust her enough to be inside this room.
“Sure, doctor.” she says and gradually asked the other lady to leave with her.
Sunghoon’s eyes burns at you as you stood in front of him. He didn’t say anything else after they left the room, he just stares at you with dark eyes. He’s so upset and angry for how his parents are dealing with this situation right now. They’re being too much for meddling with their son’s life when he’s already 27.
“Hello, Mr. Park.” you greeted him once again. As expected, he showed no reaction at all.
“I’m Doctor (surname) and I am here to help you—”
“I don’t need your help so leave. I am not crazy.” he cuts you off.
You pursed your lips and nods your head before pulling up another smile. His behavior of declining anyone clearly shows how he doesn’t want to show his vulnerability.
“Of course you’re not. Everybody knows you are not crazy, Mr. Park.” his eyes still bores right at you.
“Your parents hired me so I can help to understand your emotions even more.”
The corner of his lips lifts up as he scoffed, “You think I don’t know my own emotions?”
You shook your head right away, “No. Nobody else knows you the best other than yourself. I’m just here to assist and help you go through emotions you cannot control or understand.”
Sunghoon’s tensed shoulder slightly relaxed at what he heard. He doesn’t know if all psychiatrist are like this, but you sure are good with your job. You know your way of words to people. Or was it just because of your pretty face? Was he distracted a bit too much? Did you noticed?
He draws in a strained sigh and glanced away, letting his guard down a bit. It made you feel happy and take it as a sign that he wanted you to help him. For that session, you tried hard not to overwhelm him too much so instead of asking questions, you orient him about the case he’s possibly going through.
But that didn’t really became easy. He made sure you’re struggling on dealing with him. There’s often change of moods as well, sometimes he’s calm to have you around and sometimes he’s not. He rudely interrupts you talking and constantly asking you to just quit your job and leave him alone.
But he cannot do anything about it. He cannot fire you, because he didn’t hire you on the first place.
It was his Mother who asked for your professional help, so if there’s someone who can tell you that you’re not qualified for the job already, it would be only her.
“Hello y/n!” Hana greets you happily as she enter the room. It was obvious that she’s having a great day, unlike you.
“Hi,” you shortly replied and sat down at your chair.
“Looks like you aren’t in a good mood.” she states the obvious. You gave her a short nod and shut your eyes.
“Why? Did something happen?” she sounded so concerned about you and even walked closer to sit at the table near you.
“Nothing. I have an appointment with Park Sunghoon tomorrow. It should’ve been my day off and now I have to meet with him. He’s still being stubborn.”
It’s been a month ever since you started your sessions with him and still, nothing. He’s been giving you cold shoulders everytime, refusing to even open himself over you. Multiple approach already tried for him and yet, nothing. It’s frustrating you already.
“I know exactly what you need to do.” the brightness from Hana’s eyes gave you slight hope, making you sit straight.
She rummage over her stacks of unopenef parcels and cheered lightly after successfully finding something. She smirks and slowly walks towards you.
“What’s that?” you asked curious and confused.
She smirks and grabbed a cutter to open it up. From a distance, you can tell its a piece of clothing. She squealed a little, delighted of satisfaction for the package received.
“You’re going to wear this tomorrow.” she announced and even placed the opened box at your lap.
You tilt your head, confused. “What? Why? Do I not look good with my work clothes?”
That’s not the case. Your typical work clothes looks fine. The type of style that plays safe not to show too much skin and also not too covered for your liking. It was so-so.
“No, honey. But this time, that’s what you’ll wear tomorrow and then we will buy more at Saturday.” she announced with words of finality.
You gave her a weird gaze before checking the box she just handed you. Your heart dropped at the sight of it.
“No way! There’s no way I will wear this, Hana!” you quickly disagree and teared your gaze off the outfit she just handed you.
“Yes way! It’s time to put that sexy body into a good use!” she exclaimed all excited and even giggled hilariously.
“But my butt cheeks will probably show just by leaning down slightly.” the look of horror flashes over your face. Just by the thought of being exposed to Mr. Park makes you blush intensely, your core undeniably getting wet.
You shoved that thought away, somewhat blaming Hana for putting them inside your mind. She’s being a bad influence towards you right now and your face is red as a tomato.
“Then he will enjoy the view!” she winks and left you with no choice but to wear it for tomorrow's session.
Thankfully, the moment you arrived at his place the next day you are wearing a coat on top of your scandalous (not really) outfit. Okay, maybe you are a little exaggerating for thinking it is scandalous. You’ve seen a lot of people wear this kinds of workclothes, its just you’re new to this. This isn’t your usual go to office clothes.
You tried your best to act confidently, trying to ignore the fact that his gaze was practically glued at you the moment you took off your coat once you two are left alone.
You’re nervous already and having him stare at you that way makes it even worst. Regardless, you tried to proceed on your task for today.
Park Sunghoon may act nonchalant about it, but his pants feels so painfully tight ever since you walked inside his home. An hour long duration felt days for him. Those short skirts and body hugging top that perfectly shows your delicious curves is driving him insane.
Despite the fact that he hates your presence and how his parents hired you to help him, he’ll be lying if he will say that he never thought of rutting his cock so deep inside your precious cunt. He bet it will feel so good. Numerous times he imagined pushing you hardly over your office table, taking you from behind while your soft moans make it to his ears. He imagined fucking you so hard and deep until you cannot think straight anymore.
You on the other hand are sweating like crazy while trying to compose yourself, unaware of the sinful thoughts the man in front of you are currently having. You keep on shifting on your seat, uncomfortable with how your skirt is so tight and short. Thighs are basically suowing and by just one wrong move, you’re pretty sure your underwear will be flashed towards him.
“Something wrong, Doc?” you jolted at his sudden question, breaking the defeaning silence. It was his first words for today.
His playful tone and look on his eyes are quite foreign for you, a little delighted by the new side you discovered from him.
“N-Nothing.” your words almost came out as a mumble that made him chuckle dangerously.
To see you with less clothing sure is torture for him, to see you blushing and squirming nonstop while your underwear almost flash him is clouding his mind with so many thoughts. All dark and dirty.
“You dressed differently today.” he said in a low tone, almost like a growl. The statement halts your hand from scribbling down your paper. You glanced at him and quickly looked away as he was already staring darkly.
You gulped in attempt to get rid of the lump between your throat. The corner of his lips lifts while one of his hands plays mindlessly at it.
“Y-Yeah.” it was obvious for you to deny it.
“What are you trying to do, Doc?” he asks like a trap and once again you are caught off guard.
“I d-don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He scoffed sexily and let out a heavy sigh, “Of course you don’t.” then his eyes roams from your feet up to your face and his heated gaze stays at your eyes.
“You fucking don’t know what you are doing.” he said under his breath that you clearly missed. Even before you manage to compose yourself from his stares, he already glanced away then his walls are once again up guarding himself.
The whole session continues with you uncomfortably wet down there and Sunghoon’s dick throbbing inside his pants.
A whole week passes by and all you did was to tempt him. You started wearing tight and short clothes. Whether on purpose or not, it is driving him crazy. The sexual tension between the two of you are so hot. Too hot that whenever you are left alone, it can almost burn you two.
He knew he had to something about it. He can’t get enough of you and his palm cannot satisfy him anymore. He had to get a taste of that pussy or else he will really lose his mind.
It was wednesday and like usual, he’s the one to that have to go to your office. Mondays and friday sessions are held at his place.
He arrived perfectly on time and your assistant guided him inside after your patient before him. It was a guy and the way his face are so red when he walks out is pissing the hell off of Sunghoon. He knew why he’s like that and he confirmed his guess when he saw you with his own eyes.
Wearing a short tight red skirt. You flashed him an angelic smile that seems illegal for how slutty you dress today.
“Mr. Park, you are right on time. Have a sit.” you pointed the sofa where he usually sits and he followed without a single word.
‘I’ll have a sit and you sit on my face right after. How about that?’ he wanted so bad to say that but he refrain himself.
Sunghoon’s eyes dangerously fiest on you while you make yourself comfortable at your chair. The only thing that seperates you between him was the small center table.
“Today, I want to have a conversation with you Mr. Park. Nothing too serious, any topic you like. I just want you to talk.” you stated and smiled at him.
He nods, surprising you a little. He’s never been this cooperative. It’s making you happy and at the same time worried on why he’s suddenly being obedient.
“Any topic, right?” he asks, confirming it from you. A small nod is what you respond to him.
He nods and stayed silent for a while. You thought it was giving him pressure so you assured him that its totally fine and he can take as much time he needs.
While he spaces out, your eyes couldn’t help but to absorb how he looks today.
Park Sunghoon is a walking temptation for you. It was against your rules to be attracted towards your patients, but you just couldn’t help yourself. He’s very handsome despite his rotten attitude. You kept having this sensual thoughts whenever he’s around. It felt so wrong and illegal. How you felt so weak and how you get wet just by looking at his toned arms and veiny hands.
“Do you know who I am? Is that why you accepted to be my psychiatrist?”
You pout your lips and shook your head side to side, cheeks blushing out of embarrasment because you have no idea of who he was until his parents asked you for help.
Instead of looking offended, Sunghoon looked more interested.
“So you don’t have any idea who I was before you accepted this job?” amusment lurks over his tone, finding it somehow amusing.
Not to sound so full of himself, but he’s pretty famous. Not only to his home country, but to the whole world. The bitterness slowly creeps over his chest by the thought of it. He shoves it off his mind because that’s not important as of the moment.
You nod your head sincerely while eyes darted straight at the handsome man sat across of you. His long legs are spread while one of his arm rests at the side of the couch, the other arm on a cast. It was the one that got injured and he needed it to be casted from time to time. He’s once again making the regular size couch look small because of his tall frame.
“You live under a rock or something?” his tone taunting.
You didn’t let it get to you then just flash him a small smile. “I was busy studying.”
He pursed his lips downwards while nodding his head slowly. His brow arches attractively before he smirks again.
“Oh, right. Miss Valedictorian have no time to fool around.” he said it with so much sarcasm and sighs right after. His gaze turned slightly dark while thinking about something. To what it is, you have no idea. He was hard to read after-all.
“Let me just ask you something, Dr.” he starts. Just by the way he’s looking at you, you can already tell he’s up to no good.
You gulped, trying to get a hold of your thoughts and keep a firm look on your face. The last thing you would want is too look weak in front of him. He’ll eat you alive if you let him overpower you.
“Go ahead, Mr. Park.” you tried to sound so casual. A doctor interviewing her patient. Not crossing any line, keeping a safe distant from him.
“Are you still a virgin?” his bold question completely caught you off-guard. Your breath hitches as blood rushes over your face, blushing hard.
“E-Excuse me?” the flustered look on your face made his grin wider.
Just seeing your innocent eyes opens wider after that question was priceless. He couldn’t get enough of you. Dark thoughts occupies his mind, how you will be so perfect for him. How fun would it be corrupting the fuck out of you.
“I forbid you from asking personal questions. This has nothing to do with your sessions.” and you cleared your throat then teared your eyes off of him.
He tilts his head, “Don’t you think you’re being unfair? You ask me personal questions too.”
Your lips hangs open, ready to answer him. Sunghoon’s brows arched as he waits for what you’re about to say.
“T-That’s different. You are my patient and you—”
“How am I suppose to trust you when I know nothing about you?” his words stunned you. Truly he makes a point. In order for your patient to be confident enough to share their thoughts to you, you need to earn their trust.
How are you suppose to gain his trust when he knows nothing about you? But why does it have to be your sex life? You can share anything else, not that one.
“Then ask something else.”
He shook his head with a teasing grin. “That’s what I want to know the most.”
You stared at him straight to his eyes, silently asking him if he’s being serious about it. He didn’t budge and just stared back, piercing through your soul. You let out a strained sigh as an act of surrender before resting your back at your chair.
“Y-Yes.” you gulped, trying to get rid of the lump between your throat. The amount of embarrasment you are having right now is incomparable to anything else. You’ve never been humiliated like this.
A spark lights upon his pretty eyes, his thick pretty brows raising in amusement. He chuckles and you quickly glanced away, couldn’t take it.
“I did expect you to say yes, but to actually know it is still surprising.” he stated.
You nibbled over your lower lip then dropped your eyes at the clipboard you are holding. The paper clipped to it was almost blank, nothing else was written as he’s not cooperating as usual. But in comparison from your previous meetings, he’s more talkative as of the moment.
“So tell me, why?” he asks in full curiosity. You glanced at him with a furrowed brows, confused as to what’s he’s talking about.
“Does no one wants you? Nobody tried to— ah no, that’s impossible right? I bet a lot had tried before but they just miserably failed.” the corner of his mouth lifts as he racked his eyes from your eyes down to your feet, licking and nibbling over his lips through the process. It was almost like he’s undressing you inside his mind.
The sight itself was enough to make you feel horny, the space between your thighs slowly getting wet. It was sinful and becoming unbearable for you. The temperature of the room surprisingly became hotter because of the man in front of you.
If you’re slowly losing your mind, Sunghoon had gone crazy in his own thoughts. After hearing it from you, he lost it. The thought of how pure and innocent you are just makes him dizzy and very horny. He can think of the most awful and darkest thoughts he wants to do to corrupt you. Make you his cum dump and a slave to of his cock. It makes him riled up.
Sunghoon curses inside his mind feeling his cock getting painfully hard.
Your eyes unconsciously darted over the wall clock and a part of you cheers that finally it was times up for his session.
“O-Our session is over, Mr. Park.” you forced yourself up, thighs rubbing each other and the heat coming out from your core makes it so bothering.
You didn’t wait for Sunghoon to speak and just stood up then walk towards your table, starting to rummage over nothing. Continuously touching and arranging things that doesn’t necessarily messy.
The couch made a sound when he stood up and you can feel your heart thumping so hard as you wait for him to talk.
Instead of hearing his voice, you heard him carefully walking near you. It halts your movement and your chest rises up and down. Your breath hitched as you feel his presence looming behind him, his tall figure approaching closer.
He stopped a step behind you. The sexual tension between the two of you is sky rocket, making you feel slightly suffocated. Sunghoon raises his free arm to reach over your waist.
The moment his big hand touched you, it was over for you. The wall you tried to barricade yourself in, crumbling down.
Sunghoon inched closer pressing his hot body at your back. Your scent made its way over his nose and he nibbled his lips at how good you smell.
“We shouldn’t really—” your words hangs as his action caught you off guard.
He dipped his head down, face dangerously burying your neck. His sinful hot lips places feathery kisses over it. Your hand clenched into fists, trying hard not to make any sound or let out a moan that can surely please him.
“Mr. Park,” you tried hard to face him, hand rests over his uninjured shoulder to push him away.
The difference between your physique clearly made it obvious how your strength would not even match his and so to see him not budging from his position isn’t really surprising.
He smirks, finding you adorable while blushing so hard. His effect on you visible and he’s loving it so much. He pressed himself again and this time it’s even more dangerous as you are face to face with each other.
You can now see his ethereal visuals, his thick dark brows, eyes surrounded by thick long lashes, nose pointy with a noticeable beauty mark on it and his pretty lips. He smirks, running his tongue once over them before nibbling over his lower lip showing you his fangs.
“Just like what you always tell me...” he murmured, lips inches away from yours.
Your heart almost burst out from your chest because of the intensity he's making you feel. The urge of giving in and kissing him plays inside your head dangerously clouding your senses.
“Cooperate.” his grip over your waist tightens as he leans even closer.
The last string of resistance prevents you from kissing him on his lips, leaning away when he inched closer. His eyes lifts from your lips, to your eyes. You can see how his eyes are clouded with nothing but lust.
“Think about it, Doctor. If we both cooperate in here, we’ll get what we wants the most. It’s a win win situation.” and he tugs you closer to him making you feel his erection from his pants. So hard and its making you dizzy how he rubs it
His head leans at the side, his lips grazing slightly to bite your earlobe teasingly. It makes you feel ticklish and lightheaded.
“You, getting inside of my mind and me getting inside of you.” he seductively whispered over your ears, hot breath fanning your neck that made the hairs stands up.
Your knees weakened and he hold your waist tighter to prevent you from collapsing down the cold floor.
The intercom to your office rings and it made you jolt. Sunghoon chuckles at how adorable you are for getting surprise by small sounds.
“Doctor, I would like to remind you that your session with Mr. Park is now over. The next client just arrived.” your assistant just announced.
A heavy and disappointed sigh slips off from Sunghoon’s mouth before he moves away from you. His hands ripped away from you and the sudden lose contact made you slightly feel empty, hand gripping the table hardly to keep balance.
He noticed it and he grinned widely. He sighs and felt slightly annoyed that the fun has to be interrupted.
“I should go. You seem to have a busy day.” he turns his heels and started heading towards the door, like as if he didn’t just pulled that stunt.
Just in time, your secretary opened the door and Sunghoon glanced at you for the last time, flashing you a very meaningful smile.
“I really enjoyed this session, Doctor. I’ll see you on friday.” and he sent a wink before finally leaving you a whole mess, the space between your thighs dripping wet wanting nothing but to feel more of him.
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After what Park Sunghoon just pulled at your office, you gave it a lot of thought. He was too tempting, but something in you feels warry of the idea. He’s seriously like a wolf hunting on an innocent sheep. It was too much for you so you skipped two of your sessions. Friday and monday, sending Hana instead and making excuses that you’re outside the country for some seminar.
“Finally showing up, huh?” his dangerous tone errupts from the entrance of your office, making you jolt.
Your back was facing the direction of the door and so you have no idea how he looks right now. Gulping, you slowly turns to face him and you saw him shutting the door close. The sound of the lock clicking made your heart thump faster.
“I’m sorry, I was in a seminar. I did sent Dr. Kang in replacement for me.”
The look on his eyes tells you that there’s no slight chance that he’s buying it. And he’s pissed at you for actually thinking you can get away from him.
“P-Please have a sit.” you stutter because you have no idea of how to bring up what he just said the last time you two saw each other.
“Have you decided about what I told you?” a part of you felt relieved that he’s the one who brought it up, the other part is nervous because you have no idea what to tell him.
Your mind kept telling you no, but your core had another idea. Clearly, you want him. You want him so bad.
“A-Are you sure you will cooperate with the sessions if I give you what you want?” your tone sounded anxious and so soft.
Sunghoon’s eyes grew darker while he stares at you, legs spread so wide while he dominates your couch. He heaved a sigh, calming himself not to get so excited and scare you off with his dark plans of corrupting the shit out of you.
“Yes. I am a man of my words after-all.” he states and licked his lips.
You stared right at his eyes with your innocent looking eyes. A big grin spreads across his face the moment you nod your head, falling for his evil trap.
It felt really awkward after that and you’re just standing right there like as if waiting for what he’s going to say next.
“What s-should I do?” you asked timidly, fingers fidgetting carefully and nervously.
Sunghoon took time admiring how beautiful you look in front of him. Standing like a helpless prey, submitting to her predator. Her hungry and very horny predator.
He smiles and bit his lower lip, showing off his fangs like teeth towards you. It sends shivers on your spine, down to your core making it even more wet.
Sunghoon scoots over to the side of the couch, leaving enough space.
“Come sit here.” he ordered with his husky voice.
Your knees felt weak and your feet are stoned at your position, heart thumping so loudly inside your chest that it hurts a little.
“Don’t be scared. I don’t bite,” he scoffs. “at least not yet.” and he grinned at you.
With all your strength, you struts towards him and sat at the space beside him. To be this close to him is dangerous for you. You feel so hot, like going insane hot.
Sunghoon leans in towards your face and you instinctively moves back a little. His dark eyes moved from looking at your lips up to your eyes, silently warning you not to do that again. His hand raised and cupped your face to keep you in place. His hand so big and having it harshly holding you with so much dominance turned you on.
When his lips touches yours, you are lost. It started slow and gentle, then he started to kiss you hungrily like he’s been starved from your kisses. You shut your eyes and hand grip over his polo shirt for support as you can feel yourself losing into his touch.
Your head fuzzy at the taste of Sunghoon. A little bit of mint and sweetness. His kisses hot and messy as his tongue pushes your mouth open so he can taste your insides shamelessly.
He pulled away when you two are already out of breaths, biting your lower lip as he did so. His eyes half-lidded and clouded with nothing but lust. He looked so damn sexy.
“You taste so sweet.” he whispered near your lips, eyes darted straight at yours.
His gaze heated and so is his touch. You can feel his large hands roaming dangerously below you. His eyes serves as a distraction so it was too late before you even realize that he already pushed your skirt up, hands reaching over your clothed core. His hand expertly parting your legs for better access.
“Mr. Park—” your words cut when he placed a wet kiss on your lips.
“Call me Sunghoon.” you gulped and felt so flushed because of his fingers now playing with your core. The only thing that keeping him from touching it bare was your underwear. It was torture for you. A bit embarrased too as this is the first time someone had touched you this much.
“Already so fucking wet for me. That’s all for me, right?” he glanced back at your eyes, waiting for an answer.
Because of the overwhelming pleasure, all you did was nod your head, trapping your lower lip between your teeth.
“Words. I need words, baby.” he whispered, the sudden endearment adding to the sensation he’s making you feel at the moment.
“Y-Yes.”
“Yes what?” he asked, a bit impatient.
You whimpered when you felt him rubbing roughly at your wet core, “Yes I’m so w-wet for you.”
That sends a different kind of satisfaction towards Sunghoon. To hear you say those words just made his cock even harder. He never felt aroused just by hearing them dirty talk. This is the first time. You’re the only one who did it to him.
“I want to taste you. I bet you taste so fucking sweet.” he mumbled and you opened your eyes at what he just said, taken aback at what he’s planning to do.
“But—” he placed a kiss at your lips then kneeled beside the couch, just so he can be face to face to your heated core.
You closed your legs in attempt to hide yourself from him, but he firmly gripped your thighs pushing them back open. He shoot you blank stares.
“Hold your legs for me. Keep them wide open.” he ordered and your eyes unconsciously darted at his broad shoulders, taking notice at the cast over it.
“W-What about your shoulder?” you worriedly ask.
Sunghoon almost lose his mind at how soft and gentle your voice are. More importantly that you still have the time to think of his shoulder when you’re almost half naked in front of him.
“I’m fine.” he quickly dismissed it and placed his big hands at your thighs, supporting it so it won’t close.
Your legs are slowly moving closer, maybe out of embarrasment now that he can see your underwear fully and the wet spot in the middle of it.
One of his hand reaches over your underwear, but you stopped him.
“S-Sunghoon, I’m shy.” you admit, blood rushing towards your cheeks.
The corner of his lips lifts up at the sight of your innocent eyes watching him beneath you. The look of embarrasment and probably being neglected from orgasm painted frustration over your pretty face. He cannot explain it exactly, but it turns him on.
“It’s okay. You’re okay.” despite the look of lust over his eyes, his tone is surprisingly gentle.
“Can I take this off now?” he asks and while staring at his eyes, you had no choice but to nod your head.
He didn’t waste any second and removed your underwear, revealing your wet pussy. The sight itself was enough to leave him salivating. Sunghoon gulps and then dips his head giving one long lick to your core, juices wrapping his own tongue.
“God,” you mumble at the feeling of his hot tongue grazing your folds.
“Taste so fucking good.” he grunted and started lapping your pussy like a hungry animal. He kissed, he ate and even fuck your hole using his tongue, hardening it so you can feel him enough.
“Ngh,” you sound so dumb trying to contain your moan, afraid that your secretary from outside can hear you.
Sunghoon smirks and lifts his gaze to look at you enjoying the time of pussy being eaten. He never seen you like this before, he never thought you can even moan this erotic.
“Let me stretch you a bit, baby.” and he pulls away then spit at your hole.
“Open your eyes.” he says that made you slowly oblige. The first thing you saw was his sexy smirk, eyes so dark.
He raised his hand and while staring at your eyes, he slowly slid one of his long fingers inside you.
“Hmm, w-wait.” one of your hand lets go from your thighs so you can cover your mouth.
He chuckled, “Haha! Too much? It’s just one finger. How are you gonna take me if you’re already struggling with this?” he taunts and starts pumping it in and out, stretching you.
“You look so pretty like this, y/n. So damn pretty.” he mumbled and kissed your inner thighs while still fucking his finger knuckle deep in you.
“I think I can already add another one.” he says and you hitched your breath as you watch closely, anticipating the stretch and slight sting from it.
Sunghoon loves how obedient you are and how you just lets him do what he wants towards you. This is the first time you’ll ever experienced fingered other than your own fingers so he knew he needed to make it memorable. He added another finger and started pumping.
“Ugh, oh my gosh.” you moaned, gripping over wherever you can reach.
He kept repeating it until you can feel a knot forming your stomach, a hand clasp over his arm. “S-Sunghoon, I’m going to cum.”
His eyes sparkled, “Oh yeah? Give it to me.” he says like a challenge and continued pumping, dipping his head close to your core. He opens his mouth and placed his tongue near your hole, waiting for your sweet juice. The sight itself made you cum easily, moaning so hard and shaking a little.
“Good girl, cum so sweet.” he praised and suck your clit for any remnants of your orgasm.
You are catching your breath and he’s still pumping his fingers inside you, riding your high.
“How does that feel?”
“G-Good.”
“Then let’s do it again.”
Despite feeling drained out of energy, you looked at him with a bit of hesitation. “W-What?”
“Let me add another finger, pretty. Hold on.” and pushes your body to lay back down your previous position.
You whimpered at the amount of stretch his three fingers are giving you. This is the biggest you ever had.
“Pussy so tight. I bet we will have a hard time making my fat cock fit inside you.” his words’ making your head all fuzzy.
“Say it.” he said while staring at your eyes.
You looked at him confuse, clueless of what he’s talking about.
“W-What?”
“Say your pussy is so tight for me.”
Your cheeks flushed at how dirty those words are. You rarely cursed and never once did mutter this type of words, having him make you say this is making you feel so riled up.
“Say it, y/n. Or I’ll stop,” he shamelessly pulls his fingers out of your hole and instantly you felt empty, the other orgasm disappearing into thin air.
“S-Sunghoon,” you said a little frustrated.
“Say it.” his eyes so dark while it burn towards you.
“M-My pussy is so tight for y-you.”
Sunghoon slid his fingers right back after hearing you dirty talking. It back fired tho, as he can feel his dick throbbing painfuly inside his pants, head leaking with so much precum.
“Ah fuck, this won’t work.”
His eyes turned darker and he pulls his fingers off, making you look at him in confusion. He licked your juices on his digits before he stood back up. Your eyes grew big when you saw him unzipping his pants.
“W-What...” you are lost of words when you saw his erect cock, slapping his stomach after he took off his briefs. It is big and now you can definitely agree when he wonders how you will be able to fit him inside you.
Your face turned pale, a little scared of how painful would it be.
“S-Sunghoon, I don’t think I can—” he leans down and kissed you over your lips.
“Just the tip, baby. I promise.” he stroke his manhood and slowly near it to your entrance.
“Fuck,” he groaned when he managed to put his pulsating tip inside your hole. The stretch from a while ago did help, but only because its just his head. It stings a little, but the pleasure is unmeasurable.
“Oh God,” you mumble when he starts to pull in and out his tip.
“Keep steady for me.” and he started to keep his pace, pleasure overwhelming the two of you.
His eyes are fixed right at your pussy barely taking his tip inside. It was making him crazy.
“I’m close, Sunghoon!”
His brows narrowed and he bit his lower lip, stroking the length that doesn’t go inside you to catch your orgasm.
“Me too, fuck. Cum with me.” and after a few more thrust, you coat his head with your cum and afterwards he pulls out, spilling his outside your pussy.
You’re both a panting mess after and now that the lust is slowly withdrawing, your starting to feel shy again. He noticed it and smirks before leaning in for a kiss on your lips.
“You did so well for me.” he praised that made your cheeks flushed even more.
You pursed your lips into a pout and glanced away, eyes dropping at your exposed core.
“You got it on my skirt.” you rant cutely that made him chuckle.
“I’ll just buy you a new one.”
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Friday came faster than you expected, or maybe you’re just really looking forward on seeing Park Sunghoon once again. You parked right at his mansion and knocked on his door.
Surprisingly, Sunghoon opened the door for you. Brows hardly furrowed.
“Hi,” you greeted with a smile and blushing cheeks.
He opens his door even wider for you, “You’re late.” he sounds like he’s sulking so you chuckle a little walking pass by him. Sunghoon managed to inhale your sweet scent and he’s already feeling aroused by it.
“I stopped by at a famous bakery since you mentioned yesterday that you love bread.” and you raised the plastic containing the bread you are talking about.
When you glance at him, he was already sat down at his couch. A ghost of smile spread across his face before he gestures you to come to him. You rest your things at the table and slowly walk near him.
He reached over your hand then guided you carefully to sit over his lap, arms wrapping around your waist.
“You look beautiful today.” he compliments that tugged your heart.
“Is that why you’re hard as rock right now?” you teased and rolled your eyes at him.
He smirks, “I can’t help it.” he mumbles then showers your shoulders and neck with feathery kisses.
You shut your eyes and your hold over his arm tightens. He kissed your neck and sucked at the skin so hard you’re sure it will bruise.
“Ride me.” he commands that made you open your eyes.
The look of lust over his eyes tells you that he isn’t kidding at all. After letting out a nervous sigh, you straddle over him your clothed core perfectly aligned at his erection. The sensation of having it rub as you position yourself on top of him is making you crazy.
Sunghoon’s big hands rests at your hips, eyeing you dangerously. Watching how your face contorts at pleasure as your privates rubs at one another. He can only curse inside his mind how the sight of you humping your wet core to him is so arousing.
“Sunghoon,” you moaned that snap him out of trance.
“Yeah?” and he leaned closer kissing your chin.
“Can I suck you?”
His eyes darken at your question. He was indeed planning to make you suck his cock, but he never thought you would be the one to ask yourself. Now he didn’t regret hearing it, you are turning him on even more.
“Well well, the innocent Doctor (surname) now hungry for my cock?” he teased that made you shy instantly, stopping how you rub yourself towards him.
He chuckles, “Say it first and then I'll let you suck my dick.”
You pursed your lips into a pout then was about to turn away, “Say it, come on.” and then he hold your wrists to keep you from leaving.
You glanced at his eyes and stared hardly. Letting him see how much he affect you. How wet he is making you at the moment.
“Can I suck your cock, please?” you ask so softly that it almost broke Sunghoon.
He smirks and leans to kiss you at your lips once, “Since you ask nicely, down on your knees.” he command and you got so excited after you heard that.
You stood up from sitting on his lap and watch how he remove the knot of his sweatpants. He was left with his boxers and he slides it down as well, revealing his already hard fat cock.
You gulped, astonished at the view in front of you. Eyes fixated at the dessert you’re about to taste. You slowly went down on your knees while still staring at his pulsating cock, the tip of it so red.
“H-How do I do it?” your hand hang awkwardly on the sides and it almost made Sunghoon laugh at how adorable you are.
He grabs your hand and placed it at his knees, making you tear your gaze from his dick and look at his lustful eyes. He smiles, fangs showing.
“Calm down, baby. Don’t get too excited. I feel like you will bite off my dick.” he joked that made you pout. He chuckled and leaned forward for a peck on your lips before resting his back at the couch once again.
“Okay, open your mouth and then rolled your tongue out. Flat them good for me.” he instructs that you quickly followed.
The shyness wearing off as the heat of horniness taking over. You don’t care anymore, all you want is to taste his cock inside your mouth.
“That’s it. Then hold my length, not too tight. It’s your friend, not your enemy.” he chuckles playfully and you just keep follow him.
“Now lick the tip. Lick or suck, just no teeth.” he reminds and you dived in, not wasting any second.
He tasted a bit salty, but good. You cannot explain what exactly it is but the type of taste you will look for from time to time. You hold his dick and looked at its tip, becore sucking it good making Sunghoon groan in pleasure.
“Fuck baby, you’re so thirsty for my cock.” and his hand rests on top of your head when you started bobbing it out of instinct.
“Just like that— damn, it feels so good.” he moaned, groaning while biting his lips deliciously.
“Look at me.” he demands that you oblige, making him go insane.
“Goddamn those eyes. I will cum if you keep looking at me like that.” he said in a husky voice that sent shivers in your spine.
You hummed sending vibrations on his dick that gave him ultimate pleasure.
“Keep going, pretty.” and with his guidance you continued bopping and sucking his delicious cock like a lollipop. It felt so satisfying hearing his moans and having him tightly gripping your hair out of pleasure.
“I’m gonna fucking cum,” he grunts so you kept your pace and he started fucking into your mouth, making you slightly gag on his fat dick.
He didn’t stop until he shoots his hot cum at the depth of your throat, making sure you swallow every drop of it. You did as he told, rolling your eyes as you continue sucking him dry. Sunghoon grunts at the sight of you.
“So good for me.” he mumbles and pulls you up to give you a kiss at your lips.
The day ended with you actually doing your session. This time, you can really tell he’s trying to be more cooperative. Answering questions from you about his childhood and all, trying to familiarize you more about him.
You left that day with a sweet kiss on his lips and small gropping. He’s just really naughty and you cannot get enough of him.
Your routines became making out, foreplays, makeouts then session with Sunghoon. Two weeks passed by so quickly and you two grew closer and intimately. Another weekend came and you spent it with Hana, trying to find good clothes and other girly things.
“How was it with Mr. Park Sunghoon?” she asks raising her brow teasingly.
Your cheeks blushed and eyes dropped at your food instantly. Just by then she realized that something is really happening between you and the f1 racer and so she squealed happily and didn’t stop bugging you to tell her everything.
“I always knew he have the hots for you.” and she winks, delighted that her friend is finally having the sex she deserves.
“What? No. Maybe he’s just bored and—”
“Oh come on! Sunghoon can have any girls he wants and yet he picked you. He isn’t the type to go fuck around girls as well, y/n. He may look like a player, but that dude is loyal.” she even whistles.
“How’d you know?”
She shrugs her shoulder, “He had only one ex-girlfriend and not once did I heard him getting involve with someone else.”
Your heart sank at what you heard. Lately, Sunghoon has been making you feel special. Despite him being mean sometimes, his gestures still tugs your heart. And to think that you learnt about this ex lover of his being the undefeated champion for his heart is hurting your heart.
“Don’t worry! They’re already over.” she assured you after noticing the look of horror on your face.
That didn’t wipe away your worry, since you could tell she has something to do why Sunghoon refuses to talk about his hard refusal of driving for his team again.
“Why did they broke up?” you couldn’t help yourself but to ask.
She pursed her lips trying to recall the article she saw the moment the news broke to the media. It was not that big of a scandal, but still they’re both a famous and public personality. There are a lot of people invested in their love journey.
“I’m not sure, but as far as I remember it was her who calls it off.” she says that made you even more insecure about it.
Hana seems to be ignorant about the fact that you’re starting to overthink things and just diverts the topic into something else. You tried hard to push back whatever that is that’s bothering you, but it was no use. Your heart feels heavy just by thinking of where you stand at Sunghoon’s life.
He didn’t mentioned anything about taking things seriously. You wanted to get into his mind, talk to him and help him get through this phase of his life. On the other hand, he wants to get in your pants and use you for pleasure. That’s it? You should not get worried and shrug it off, but you can’t. Because no matter how much you deny it, you are slowly catching feelings with him.
And to think that the possibility of him still having hang ups with his ex are breaking your heart.
Monday came faster than expected. The weekends spent mostly by you overthinking things. It was slightly exhausting, but again it was overpowered by the thought of seeing Sunghoon once again. Excitement feeling your chest as you parked right at the hospital to meet some of your morning clients.
Time passes by so slow as you keep glancing at your wall clock, begging for it to go faster. After your third client, your intercom rings.
“Doctor, you are asked to go to the conference room to attend a meeting.” your secretary announced.
Your brows furrowed as you glanced at your calendar beside your table, finding it odd that it wasn’t recorded to your schedule. Meaning its either its an unplanned meeting or you forgot to just include it.
You pressed the button to your intercom, “Alright. Thank you.”
The conference room are packed with some doctors and at the center of it was the director. His eyes lights up at the sight of you and you tried to flash a smile for him. He continued talking about some reminders and changes at the hospital protocols.
Your eyes unconsciously darts at the clock and saw that its almost your session with Sunghoon. Remembering that you forgot to inform him, you tried to check your phone from your pockets and realized you don’t have it with you.
You almost cheered silently when the director said his ending remarks for the meeting. Everyone stood up and claps for him. When you’re about to leave the conference room, he calls for you. It made you hesitant, but since you don’t want to make a scene you just walk near him.
“Your ward will be provided with new equipments.” he started and even looked over the folder holding the lists of things your department requested.
Your shoulder relaxed a bit, thinking that he’s not totally up for something weird. Its just that you represented the department as everyone else have something to do. Slowly, the people inside the room left one by one. Even before you realize it, you are alone with the director already.
“Can you check if there’s anything missing?” he asks seriously and even handed you the folder.
You nod and carefully checks the list. While deeply into it, you yelped when you’re suddenly pushed towards the table. His body pressing hardly behind you. Tears quickly pool your eyes in terror, head hurting as it hits the table.
“M-Mr. Cha w-what are you doing?!” you panicked and even try to push yourself back up.
He grunts and pushed you even harder, holding your position. You cried and shut your eyes, wishing that this is just a dream. A very bad dream. You felt his hot breath near the back of your ears and something hard pressed at your but. It felt disgusting, you felt disgusted with yourself.
“Shut the fuck up and just take this bitch.” he mumbles scarily and started grinding himself at you.
“N-No, please stop—” you cried even harder feeling him from outside your clothes and its so horrifying.
“Shh, don’t cry. I won’t put it inside. It’s too early for that...” he said lowly and even caress your face. You moved away from his touch and he just scoffed.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve taught of doing this to you.” he groans and you can feel him going faster, reaching his climax.
It was horrible, but you just stood still as you are helpess. Tears keep streaming down your eyes, unable to even say anything. You bit your lip, shutting your eyes tightly.
When he finished, he leans in and forcedly pressed a kiss at your lips. The moment he lets go of you, you bolted your way out of there. Thankfully, you didn’t stumble with some colleagues or else they would be wondering why you’re crying and dress all crumpled up.
You’re traumatized after what happened. You’ve been inside your vehicle parked underground the hospital. Tears doesn’t even stream from your eyes anymore, you just sat there feeling so numb and disgusted. You feel disgusted about yourself. Just every place he touched you.
Your head slowly cranes to the side when you heard your phone ringing. Sunghoon’s name flashing through it. Right, you’re late to your session with him. After a while, your screen turns black meaning you’ve missed the call already.
It lits up once again because he’s trying to call again. Your heart tugs and slowly reached for your phone.
“H-Hello?” you stuttered.
A big sigh is what’s greet you. “Finally!” he spats. “I’ve been trying to call you for an hour. I thought something bad happened to you.” he sounded a little irritated.
“I’m sorry, I was c-caught in a meeting.” the memory flashes back to your mind.
“It’s fine. I just got worried.” you missed what Sunghoon said as your mind slowly spaced out.
He noticed you being silent from the other line so he sighed, “Hey, I’m not mad. I was just really worried.” he repeated, thinking you thought he’s angry.
When he still didn’t receive any response, his brows furrowed hardly.
“Baby?” he calls softly, snapping you back to your senses.
“S-Sorry, yeah?” you sniffed.
“Are you okay? Did something happen?”
Your heart sank at what you heard. The amount of emotions mountaining inside you are unexplainable. You want to scream, cry and tell him everything but you are scared. Scared as hell on what will happen after.
“Yeah I’m f-fine.” only case is, you’re not.
“Are you coming here?”
“Yes.”
You really want to see him. Something in you tells you that Sunghoon can help. That seeing him can help you.
“Okay. Drive safely.”
You bid goodbye and drove towards his house with one thing inside your mind. What happened to you a while ago and what the director did you to you just means he will not stop just like that. If there’s anyone you want to give yourself in for the first time, it would be Park Sunghoon. You want to give yourself to him.
When you arrived his place, Sunghoon was the one of who opened the door for you. He can’t even say hi because you quickly wrap your arms over his nape, pulling him closer. You crashed your lips on his and start kissing him passionately.
Despite being surprised, Sunghoon caught on and kissed back. He doesn’t understand why you’re suddenly like this, but he cannot reject and stop you. No. Never. Not when you look so beautiful desperate for him. Desperate for his kisses and touch.
He pushed your body to the door and started kissing you hungrily, hands roaming your body like they have a body of their own.
“What’s gotten into you?” he asks, catching his breath.
Your lustful eyes stared right at his swollen lips. “I just missed you.”
Sunghoon’s eyes soften at what you said and leans back in for another heated kiss. Both of his large hands rests at your hips, gripping them tightly.
“H-Hoon,” you moaned when he starts to kiss and suck the skin on your neck.
He hummed on your skin, sending so much pleasure. Your hands plays over his hair, pulling it softly.
“Fuck me.”
Sunghoon was stoned at his position when he heard you mutter those words. He pulled away slightly, enough to look at your eyes.
“What did you say?”
You looked at him straight in the eyes.
“Please fuck me.”
Sunghoon went wild after hearing it. He licked his lips and placed a kiss on top of your hand. “You sure?”
You nod continuously, wanted so bad to forget what happened earlier at the conference room.
“All right, let me prep you—” you hold his arm.
“N-No,” you gulped. “I want to feel it. I want it to hurt.”
He furrowed his brows and looked at you in confusion. He’s not gonna lie, he’s all riled up with you saying these things but he cannot help but to think what happened to you. For the past month that he knew you and been doing stuff with you, he’s never seen you like this. He feels like something’s wrong.
“Is everything okay?” he asked all concerned.
You want to dodge that question as much as possible so you glanced away. His firm hold over you softens as he try to catch your eyes.
“Hey, you good? If you want to do this, I want you to be sure. I need to prep you so it will hurt less—”
“I said I don’t mind!” you burst and shoot him glares. Your emotions are getting the best out of you.
“You know what, nevermind! If you don’t want to do it then I’ll find someone else!” you yelled. Of course that was a lie, but you try to save yourself from too much embarrassment.
You’re about to walk away from him, but he grabbed you by the wrist. When you meet his eyes, shivers run through your spine because Sunghoon’s eyes are so dark.
“Why the fuck would you say that?” he looked so mad and your lips shake unable to even say anything.
“You want it to hurt? I’ll make it hurt.” and he threw you over his shoulders making you slightly yelp.
“H-Hoon,” he walked towards somewhere.
Realizing he entered a room, Sunghoon placed you on the middle of the big bed. You looked at him, nervous. He smoothly took off his shirt and you fold your legs. His toned body made you at awe.
He stretches and grabbed your leg pulling you closer to him. His hand find your skirt and he started taking it off. He dipped his head to smash his lips onto yours. Your eyes shut, getting drown by his sweet, sloppy kisses.
“You don’t say those words at me, y/n. Finding someone else to fuck you?” he said after he pull away and manages to take off your skirt. His eyes turned dark as he let out a scoff with no humor.
“Now, I’m going to fuck you so hard and you’re going to take it all like a good bitch.”
His words are enough to make you wet down there, but you know it wasn’t enough to make it less painful. With the length and thickness of his cock, it will surely hurt like hell.
“W-Wait—” you sound scared.
Sunghoon didn’t mind and just pushed your body down the bed, his big hand wrapping around your neck. His other hand started stripping off your underwear.
“Shut the fuck up.”
He moved away and started removing his sweatpants. His dick was hard already, slapping at his stomach after he took off his boxer shorts. The view itself was salivating for you. It made your fear disappear for a split second. Tho it all went back when he approached you and spread your legs wide for him.
His eyes are darkly focused down at your slightly wet core.
“H-Hoon,” he didn't say anything and spit on his palm before stroking his hard cock.
You’re about to say something but his dark eyes looked at you. The corner of his lips lifts a little as he position his tip at your entrance. Your heart thump in fear and excitement. Multiple times you two did foreplays and you’ve been imagining his cock entering you. Now, it’s really gonna happen.
“Do you trust me?” he asks in a low tone.
You nod your head.
“I will make it hurt so you wouldn’t forget who took you first.” he mumble so ruthless and then pressed his body closer.
Your lips pursed as his cock slowly enters you. It was hard, Sunghoon cannot even push inside as it was so tight for him. He clenched his jaw, couldn’t get enough of the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing his tip.
“Fucking tight,” he growled and thrust harder.
You yelped at the feeling of being painfully stretched by his dick. The pain was unexplainable, something you never felt before. Your hold over his arm tighten, eyes becoming teary. Sunghoon searches for your lips as he continues taking your virginity, cursing inside his mind how good this pussy is. How tight and perfect for him to ruin.
“S-So big,” you cry out.
“Just a little bit more, baby.” he whispered to your ears.
He’s not yet fully in but you already feel so full. It was unbelievable. Your eyes tightly shut, nails digging over his broad back.
“There we go,” he sighs when you finally managed to take all of him.
He pulled away slightly just to get a good look of his cock buried deep inside of you. Your pussy so red and full. It looked so tight with his dick filling you completely. He fits you perfectly that its no doubt that this pussy belongs to me.
“You’re mine now, y/n. Hear me?” he growled and leaned his body down as he start to move his hips, thrusting in and out.
“I’m claiming this pussy mine.” and he bit your shoulder, pistoning his hips harder and faster.
He didn’t even ask if you adjusted already. He was so lost by the pleasure you are giving him. He continued fucking you fast and hard that you’re starting to see stars. It was amazing. Painful, but amazing.
“Ngh,” you moaned when its started to feel a little better. He smirks and tries to catch a glance at your face.
“You’re taking me so well, baby. You’re such a good girl.” he mumbled and looked back at your privates hitting each other continuously.
“So pretty. So perfect for me.” he kept mumbling like a prayer.
You got lost on how long he’s been abusing your hole until he finally cum on your stomach. Sunghoon’s not the type who gets tired right away after a round, but this one’s different. The kind of pleasure and emotions he poured in this one is something he has never done before.
He crashed beside you and gently pulled you towards him, making your head rest over his chest. A peck on your forehead and then he rest his chin on your head.
“Thank you.” you mumbled, after finally gaining back some senses.
He scoffed and wrapped his arm around you. “Thank you for hurting you?”
You chuckled and nuzzled over his chest.
“Well, I did asked for it.”
“You did, baby.”
The two of you fell silent before your eyes caught a glimpse of some of his trophies.
“Did you want to be a racer ever since you were a kid?”
“Oh, my psychiatrist is back? Damn. I’m kind of enjoying my cuddles at the moment.” he said sarcastically.
“I just want to know.” you giggled.
He heaved a sigh, clearly thinking through it.
“I grew up loving cars. My uncle used to take me with him whenever he watch f1 racers. I thought it was cool and wanted to be like them.” he started and you just listened to him.
“And you did.” you uttered so proudly.
“My Mom was against it at first. Saying that its dangerous. But I just couldn’t stop myself from pursuing it. I just feel so alive doing it. The sound of the roaring engines, the thrill of the speed and the smell of the tires scratching over the race track. Its just... different.” he mumbles.
He didn’t say anything, but you felt his tension slightly disappearing. Your hand that was hugging him starts to caress his back, lowkey letting him know that you’re there beside him.
“I used to love racing.”
“You still love it.” you declared like you’re so sure of it.
He didn’t respond right away. Like something’s occupying his mind right now. The thought of his ex girlfriend made it to you and slowly, you pulled away from his hug.
You looked straight to his eyes and gulped.
“Does your ex girlfriend has something to do why you don’t want to race anymore?”
You can clearly saw how his eyes turned cold and the emotions in his face drained. He looked like how he was when you first met him.
Your heart cracks when he pulled away from you and leave the bed before starting to grab his clothes.
“I’ll get you a fresh towel so you can take a bath.” he suggested with cold voice.
“Sunghoon, I’m s—”
“Let’s skip today’s session. You can leave after you take a bath.” and he walked away to get the things you will be needing. Leaving you dumbfounded and heart’s aching.
You have no idea what just happened, but the f1 racer sure does know how to fucking hurt you both physically and emotionally.
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liliacamethyst · 1 year
Text
Web of Secrets - Miguel O'Hara 
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Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader
words: 3.7K
warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut
Part I Part II Part III Part IV
In your universe, you are known as the Sun Spider. It all started on a school field trip to a solar energy research center, where you were accidentally exposed to a spider that had been subjected to intense solar radiation. You woke up with a white-hot surge of power, and your life changed forever. You donned a suit of pure white, taking the name that reflected both your newfound abilities and the brightness you brought into the world: Spider-Sun.
Your ability to harness solar energy and transform it into powerful blasts or create protective shields made you a formidable superhero in your home city, Nea Yorkey. Your ability to bring light to even the darkest corners of your city earned you the love of its citizens.
However, everything changed when you were suddenly pulled into the Spider-Verse.
Upon arriving, you were greeted by the gruff leader of this interdimensional team of Spider-People, Miguel O'Hara. His reputation preceded him - the genius intellect, the imposing figure, the gruff demeanor. Everyone respected him, and some even feared him. You, on the other hand, were drawn to him. There was something about that guarded demeanor that called to your own sunny nature.
You became an integral part of the team, fighting off anomalies and working hard to maintain the balance in the Spider-Verse. And despite Miguel's stern exterior, you felt yourself falling for him.
One mission was particularly rough, and you found yourself alone with Miguel in a safe house, nursing your wounds. His usually stern face softened as he tended to your injuries. The distance that he usually maintained was nowhere to be seen.
"Thank you, Miguel," you whispered.
He looked at you, his usually hard eyes soft. "You fought well, mi sol."
There was a moment of silence, a strange tension hanging in the air. Then, Miguel leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was filled with unexpected passion.
In that moment, you were not the Sun Spider, and he was not the Spider-Man 2099. You were just two people, seeking solace in each other.
Afterwards, as you laid side by side, Miguel turned to you, a serious look on his face. "This...this can't be more than what it is. Just...you know, stress relief," he muttered, his voice just above a whisper.
His words wounded you. Naturally, they did. He had reduced your relationship to mere stress relief, as if you were some object devoid of feelings. Yet, in spite of it all, you fell for him. Perhaps you were naive, even foolish, but you didn't care. You yearned for him and were ready to accept any fraction of affection he was willing to offer, no matter how small.
During the day, as you fought alongside him against the anomalies threatening the Spider-Verse, his attention toward you was sparse. He mostly shared only necessary information, barely making eye contact. Sometimes he didn't speak at all, and you and the rest of the team would receive mission orders and briefings from Lyla, his AI assistant.
But at night, when the two of you were alone, he became a different person. He'd whisper praises into your ear, telling you how exceptionally you fought, how much he desired you. He showed you his hidden vulnerability under the cover of darkness, the sheets their only witness. He'd gently stroke your hair and peppered your jaw and temple with kisses until you fell asleep, only for you to wake up the next morning to an empty, cold spot where he once lay.
This cycle - his coldness by day, and the fervor by night - repeated itself relentlessly for months.
And so, this is how you find yourself: disoriented, frenzied, and on the verge of tears, seated on the couch of your best friend, Peter B. Parker, in Earth-616. Cradled in your arms is his sweet daughter, Mayday, who, with her innocent touch, tries to console you. Yet her wide eyes dart anxiously to her father, reflecting her own alarm at your distress.
Peter rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe we should wait until MJ gets home?" he suggests, then, with a furrowed brow, he asks, “Have you tried talking to Jess about this?”
You shake your head vigorously. "No, I haven't told anyone. I have no idea what to do," you confess, your voice breaking.
Peter, ever the caring friend, gently takes Mayday from your arms and sets her down. He turns back to face you with a sympathetic gaze. “Do you..eh.. know who the father is?” he inquires softly.
You shake your head again, even though deep down, you know the truth. “The father is out of the picture. He doesn’t know, and he never will because he doesn’t want kids,” you whisper, fighting back tears.
As you and Peter sit down on the couch in his cozy living room, you find a sense of comfort being around him. His experience as both a superhero and a parent seems like it could be a beacon in this storm you're facing. The room is quiet, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall.
“You know, Peter,” you begin, your voice almost a whisper. “I’m terrified. What if the baby has powers? How am I going to protect them, especially if...if I can’t stop fighting anomalies?”
Peter looks thoughtful. “That’s a valid concern. First, you should know that you don’t have to do this alone. There’s a whole community of us, and we stick together. If the child does have powers, she or he will be badass like Mayday, right?”
You nod slowly but then anxieties pile on top of each other in your mind. “But... how can I hide this? Nobody and I mean nobody is supposed to know that I’m pregnant. Especially not...” You trail off, not finishing the sentence.
Peter rubs his chin, deep in thought. “We could look into modifying your suit, maybe talk to some tech geniuses in the Spider-Verse about creating something that can shield or conceal the pregnancy.”
You roll your eyes. “That kinda defies the ‘nobody is allowed to know ‘ordeal, Peter. You have to promise me that this stays between us.”
“I promise,” Peter says sincerely.
Silence fills the room again, and then you voice another fear. “Peter, what if...what if I’m not a good mother? What if I mess this up?”
Peter smiles warmly. “You know, I had those same fears when Mayday was born. I think it’s normal for any parent. But, take it from me, the fact that you’re worried about being a good parent means you’re already on the right track. You’ve got a good heart. Trust it.”
You look down at your hands, fingers interlaced. “Thank you, Peter. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“You’ll never have to find out,” he says with a reassuring smile. “We’re family, in this weird, Spider-Verse kind of way. But maybe… and I am sayig this as a father myself… reconsider telling the father. I can’t imagine any guy wanting to give up this.” He says, pointing to his precious daughter playing with a napkin she found on the floor.
"Maybe you should reconsider telling the father," Peter's words are echoing in your mind like a haunting melody. A part of you yearns for that possibility. Perhaps you're not alone in this. Maybe, just maybe, Miguel wants this as much as you do.With newfound resolve, you set off for the Spider-Verse headquarters, expecting to find Miguel tucked away in his office, immersed in maintaining the spider verse or as he calls it "arachno- something-multiverse-thingy” or something similar to that.
Upon reaching his office door, you pound on it sharply. No response. Frowning, you knock again, a little harder this time. When silence continues to greet you, you slowly turn the doorknob and peek inside. There he is, hunched over his desk, lost in a world of numbers and codes.
"Miguel, I-" you start, but his sharp voice cuts you off.
"No," he interrupts, his tone cold. "Did I say you can come in? Dios mio, why are you always so damn clingy?"
His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stare at him, taken aback by his blatant disregard for your feelings. You can feel the beginnings of tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but you will them away.
He doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it like that. This mantra plays over and over in your head, like a broken record. You take a deep breath, forcing down the hurt his words cause.
"Look, Miguel," you begin, struggling to keep your voice steady. "There’s something we need to talk about, and I think it's important for you to listen to me."
“Fucking hell, woman! What exactly don’t you understand. I’m busy. I don’t care about your little problems, right now.” he barks, not even looking up.
“Miguel,” you speak up, forcing the words out through clenched teeth, “ I’ve never asked anything from you. Not once have did I ask you to stay, to feel the same I feel, to fucking talk to me when people are around. Please all I am asking you is to just ... listen to me, fpr once.” Your voice grows stronger as you speak, a determined fire igniting within you.
Miguel finally looks up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, he seems taken aback by the resolve he saw there.
He rubs his temples. “Can we do this later?”
“No!” you shout. “It’s always later with you. You’re like...like a ghost. Just a figure in the hallway. I don’t need a figure, I need a person! I need someone who listens when...”
He glares at you, his eyes narrowing. “Okay, okay I will listen just not now. Whatever it is, it can wait.”
“No, it can’t,” you retort, your voice shaking a bit. “Why is it that every time I try to talk to you, you just brush me off? Am I that insignificant to you?”
He stands up abruptly, the chair skidding behind him. “This? This is what you want to talk about?” he says with a tone of annoyance. “Look, I have a million things to deal with and-”
“And what? And I’m not one of them? Just five minutes, Miguel! That’s all I ask!”
The room is tense. Your heart is racing. His eyes are fiery. It's a standoff.
“And what is so important that you have to disrupt everything right now?” he challenges.
Your breath catches in your throat. This is it. You're about to say it.
“I...” you stammer. “I need to tell you that...”
Suddenly, the door to the office swings open and Jess storms in.
“Miguel, we have a major issue in Sector 12! The anomalies...” she starts, then catches sight of your tear-streaked face. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”
Miguel seems to shake off the tension and slips back into commander mode. “No nothing important. What’s happening in Sector 12?”
You can't believe it. Just like that, he turns away. It feels like your heart is being squeezed.
Jess starts rattling off data and scenarios. The two of them are talking, but you don’t hear it anymore. All you can think of is how you almost told him. How you just wanted five minutes.
Your hands shake and you quietly step out of the room. The door closes behind you, and it feels like a chapter that you can’t read has been sealed away.
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The next day you are on Earth-8311, an anthropomorphic animal-dominated universe. It's the home of Peter Porker, the Spectacular Spider-Ham, and you can't help but find it amusing.
The mission: to transport an anomaly, which resembles an enormous floating jellyfish, back to its home universe. It's been pure chaos here, and you are determined to set things right.
The team: Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker. You're all in your suits, eyes sharp, and webs at the ready.
"Alright, Spiders. Let's round this jelly up and send it home," Peter B. Parker takes charge, shooting a web towards a nearby building.
You swing alongside him, your thoughts a whirlwind. The world around you blurs - the animal citizens, the bustling cityscape, the strange yet familiar surroundings.
The anomaly appears before you, thrashing and pulsating as it floats through the sky. It releases blasts of energy that ripple through the air.
"Watch out, Sunny!" Gwen calls out as she dodges a blast.
You, however, are a split second too late. Your reflexes are off, your movements sluggish. The blast sends you spiraling towards the ground.
Hobie swings in and catches you mid-air, his guitar strapped on his back. “Get it together, Sun!” he shouts over the noise, his punk-styled hair waving wildly.
You shake off your daze and look up to see Peter B. Parker shooting webs to pull the anomaly back down, while Gwen is deploying a device to open a portal back to its home universe.
Your heart races as you focus on the task at hand. You need to get this right, not just for yourself, but for the life you’re now carrying. Your suit seems to glow even brighter in the chaos.
With a final combined effort, you manage to lasso the anomaly and push it through the portal. The anomaly disappears, and the portal closes behind it.
The team regroups on a rooftop. Gwen is catching her breath, Hobie is tuning his guitar, and Peter B. Parker gives you a concerned look.
“Are you okay?” Gwen asks, her voice laced with worry. “You weren’t yourself up there.”
The weight of the secret you’re carrying feels unbearable. But you're not ready to share it.
“Promise me you won’t tell Miguel about this,” you say, your voice barely audible.
Gwen raises an eyebrow, while Hobie crosses his arms. Peter B. Parker simply nods.
“Nah, Bossman doesn’t need to know about this,” Hobie says, and there’s a firmness in his voice that is strangely comforting.
Back in the HQ, your head spins, and your stomach feels like it's doing somersaults. You mumble a quick excuse about feeling nauseous and practically sprint to the nearest restroom.
Meanwhile, Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker head to the cafeteria to grab something to eat.
As they sit down at a table with their trays, Gwen breaks the silence. “Is it okay if I say that this mission was kind of easy? Like, I’ve seen Sunny take down Doc Ock from Earth-818, and she did that without any problem. So what was that today?” Gwen’s concern is apparent.
Hobie, munching on a sandwich, nods in agreement. "Yeah, it's like her spidey senses were jammed or somethin'. Never seen her like that before."
Peter B. Parker looks thoughtfully at his sandwich, then glances up at Gwen and Hobie. He’s torn, having promised you to keep your secret but also wanting your friends to understand why you were off your game.
"You guys remember when she fought Morlun on Earth-001? She was a totally smashin’ it, and today, she nearly got turned into spider-paste by a floating jellyfish. That ain’t right," Hobie adds.
Gwen’s eyes suddenly widen. "Oh my God! Do you think she’s in trouble? Like, something from her universe? Or maybe she's having an identity crisis! Should we stage an intervention?"
Peter B. Parker clears his throat. “Maybe she’s just having an off day.”
Gwen’s eyes narrow as she scrutinizes Peter. “You know something, don’t you?”
Peter scratches the back of his head, obviously uncomfortable. “Nope, no idea.”
Hobie puts down his sandwich and leans in. "Oi, mate. Spill your guts. There's something dodgy going on. She's always been our burst of sunshine, lifting the mood. But now she's... dimmed. What's going on with our Sunny, Parker?"
Before Peter B. Parker could answer Gwen’s barrage of questions, Jess - Spider-Woman - appears, her belly showing. She takes a seat at the table and, oblivious to the serious conversation that was taking place, asks them about their latest mission.
"So, how did your mission go?" Jessica asks, while munching on her Burger.
"Nothing to report, Jess," Gwen answers, a little too quickly, her face all sunshine and false smiles. Peter simply nod in agreement.
“Yah, all good!” Hobie chimes in, flashing a grin that seems a little too bright.
“How about you? How are you holding up?” Peter asks Jess, trying to steer the conversation away from the mission.
Jessica shrugs, not overly concerned, and bites into her burger. "'M good. You know,  I'm so glad I can finally eat a burger again. At the beginning of my pregnancy, practically every food made me nauseous, especially after swinging around on missions.”
Suddenly, there's a moment of collective realization among Gwen, Hobie. It’s as if their spider senses are tingling in unison. They exchange knowing looks, all of them silently putting the pieces together.
Gwen’s eyes are wide, Hobie’s eyebrows are raised, and they both turn to look at Peter, who simply nods.
Jess, noticing the silent exchange, squints at them. “What is up with you guys? You’re acting weird. Well, weirder than usual.”
“Uh, nothin’!” Hobie says, a little too quickly.
“Yeah, just tired from the mission,” Gwen adds, trying to play it cool.
Jess rolls her eyes and stands up. “Alright, weirdos. I’m gonna go find some normal people to talk to,” she says jokingly and walks away.
After she leaves, the trio leans in.
“Sunny’s pregnant, isn’t she?” Gwen whispers.
Hobie's eyes are as wide as saucers. “That would explain everything!”
Peter B. Parker nods. “We need to be there for her, but remember, it’s her news to share when she’s ready.”
They make a pact to support you without pushing you to reveal anything before you're ready.
As you walk back into the cafeteria, you find your friends huddled together. They break apart when they see you and welcome you back with smiles and light conversation, but something in their demeanor is different but you can’t put your finger on it. They are being more attentive, considerate, and frankly, a little too curious about your well-being.
"Are you sure you're okay, Sunny?" Gwen asks for the third time since you sat down. Her concern is genuine, but her intensity is slightly off-putting.
"Yeah, do you need anything?" Hobie offers, his eyes gleaming with unspoken curiosity. "Food, drink, or maybe... pickles?" Pickles? Thats oddly specific.
There's a burst of laughter from Gwen, and even Peter is suppressing a chuckle.
"What's up with the pickles?" You ask, looking at them suspiciously.
"Oh, nothing!" Gwen says, a little too quickly, trying to hold back her laughter.
"Hmm, pickles and ice cream, a weird combo, innit?" Hobie wonders aloud, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
Again, there's suppressed laughter, and you look at each of them, a realization slowly dawning on you. You turn to Peter, your gaze steady and serious. "You told them, didn't you?" Peter looks shocked, but quickly composes himself. "I didn't exactly tell them, per se," he confesses, "I might've confirmed their suspicions when they asked, but they figured it out on their own. Spider senses and all that jazz.”
Before you could respond, Gwen and Hobie jump in, both talking over each other in an attempt to apologize.
"We're sorry, Sunny," Gwen says sincerely. "We didn't mean to invade your privacy, it's just that... we're worried about you. Please don’t be mad."
Hobie nods, adding, "And we're right behind ya, whatever comes our way. We've got your back, no doubt about it."
You are happy, while the situation isn't ideal, but at least you're not alone. You have friends who care about you and, despite their unconventional way of showing it, they are there for you. You smile, comforted by their concern, and grateful for their support.
"Yeah," you finally say, "I guess we’re gonna need a lot more pickles and ice cream around here, huh?"
“Sooo...who’s the dad? Is he hot?” Gwen, leaning on the table with her elbows, asks shyly after a while.
You let out a long sigh, “He’s very hot... but also a colossal jerk.”
Peter raises an eyebrow. “You took my advice and talked to him then?”
You shake your head, your eyes starting to well up. “No, I tried. But he wouldn’t listen to me. He was busy, and I guess I wasn’t important enough. So, the baby won’t be either,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
Hobie's eyes narrow, and his face is flushed with anger. "Who's this bloke, eh? I swear on me nan's grave, I'll give him a right proper earful! No one treats our Sunny like a tosser and gets away with it!"
Gwen jumps in, her eyes wide with speculation, “Wait, is he a Spider? Is it Peter? Or the other Peter? Or—”
“Guys, guys!” you cut them off, your voice cracking. “Please, it doesn’t matter. He made it clear where I stand, and it’s not with him.”
There’s a silence that settles over the table as your friends look at each other and then back to you. Their faces are a mix of concern, sadness, and frustration.
Peter B. is the first to break the silence. “You don’t have to go through this alone. You’ve got us. If the dad doesn’t want to step up, then he’s missing out on something amazing.”
Gwen nods, her eyes firm with resolve. “Yeah, we’re family. We’ve got your back, no matter what.”
Hobie, still fuming, finally calms down enough to say, "All you gotta do is whistle, love, and we'll be there in a blink. Even if it means thumping some manners into this mystery idiot."
You can't help but crack a small smile, despite the tears. You’re overwhelmed by the love and support your friends are giving you.
“Thanks, guys. You don't know how much this means to me.” 
They all reach out and there’s a group hug right in the middle of the cafeteria. You didn’t know how much you needed this until it happened.
Part 2 “Webs of Fate”
a/n: Thank you guys for all your love on this fic so far.I really appreciate each like, comment, reblog <3. I still can’t reply to your comments so please if you want to tagged (and are not already) comment on part 2 and I’ll do my best and add you.Also I am open to requests, critic and wishes. Have a wonderful day. xx
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