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#my *(through gritted teeth)* father
ghouljams · 1 month
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"Unless you wanted to discuss Kafka over dinner."
TAKE THE BAIT YOU BIG BASTARD LOVE WANTS TO MARRY YOU JUST AS MUCH AS YOU DO HER
He's a dumbass your honor.
Ghost actually has a savior complex regarding anyone that could potentially come into his life romantically and he cannot let it go.
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murmel-malt · 19 days
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hi i’m obsessed with rowan,,,, please tell me she gets to kill her father at some point??? i think she deserves it as a little treat!!
You are right, Anon. Rowan should get a little patricide as a treat!!
However she would have an issue with the kin-slayer bit unfortunately. That doesn't mean she won't try to be involved in unaliving her dad in some shape or form as much as possible... without outright stabbing him herself even if it would so so so satisfying.
That is one of the main reasons why she is TG after all.
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theophagie · 8 months
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Sometimes I still catch myself calling controllers "joysticks" like it's still the 2000s
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im-like-if-a-girl · 1 year
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Stayed up til 1 am to decorate just for my dad to get home and be like "oh, you decorated. Nice." And then immediately go to bed like. Thanks dad. Do you wanna help me put these boxes back in the basement or....?
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supercutszns · 4 months
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Hi!! Just had to drop in and say I LOVED your Luke fic and I can’t wait for more. I would love protective Luke with hurt/comfort, if that sounds interesting at all. Thanks for sharing your writing!!! 🌸
fighting chance; luke castellan
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wc + pairing: 4.2k, luke castellan x daughter of ares! reader
synopsis: when an enemy takes advantage of your kindness during capture the flag, luke intervenes with a sword in hand.
warnings: a creepy boy👎, threats/harm to reader, she’s going through it, blood/injuries (nothing major), angry ANGRY luke, violence, lots of fluff/reassurance at the end<3
notes: thank you SO much for your kind words & your request!! hurt/comfort is my bread and butter my favourite fic genre of all time i think. & protective luke is just a bonus bc he’s already crazy so it can go as far as i want🤭 i’m not exactly sure what this turned into but if i fix it any more i'm going to go insane so hope you like it!
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You’re not much of a fighter.
That alone is a normal thing to admit—plenty of people don’t like violence, the frisson of a challenge, the bruises that come with them. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.
Unless you’re a child of Ares.
People at camp often ridicule your gentle nature when they see you with your half-siblings. They’re all gritted teeth and sharp edges, born warriors that take up all the space they can get. You, on the other hand, are lousy with weapons and even lousier with your fists. You’re quiet, attentive. While your siblings charge into battle without second thought you stay back, flitting around to adjust armour, change out weapons, oversee the terrain. Planning isn’t Ares’ style so you’re pretty much useless but nobody wants to admit it. You’re usually mistaken as a child of Hephaestus or Athena.
Unfortunately, you are a child of Ares, through and through—just in none of the ways that matter.
There are rare times your father’s influence peeks through. Not with bursts of rage or fists flying, but with thoughts. And sometimes those thoughts turn into words. Well, not sometimes. One time. This one.
The evening before the camp’s Capture the Flag game, every cabin gathered around the bonfire past dinner. To burn offerings, to chat, or in Luke Castellan’s case, to admire.
He watches you laugh with Clarisse from a distance. The Ares cabin leader always had a certain fondness for you. When Luke first started dating you he had to ask Clarisse for her blessing beforehand just to be sure she wouldn’t kill him. He’d do it a million times over just for the moment you look back, your face warming when you catch his stare. He rolls his eyes at you to lessen his smile, but he’s not sure it works. You giggle and turn back to your friend.
He’s always loved your softness; your capacity to defend and not attack. Your body rejects any skill you could possibly develop for violence. Believe him, he’s tried to teach you sword fighting, but the last time he gave you a lesson you nearly impaled yourself thirty seconds in. He loves your wit and your tenderness, your proficiency at preventing conflict, your refusal to argue. But a selfish part of him loves the fact that he’s your protector even more.
The night wears on with the flickers of fire and friendly banter. One of the times Luke looks back at you, his brows wrinkle. There’s a guy talking to you. A group of them, actually, but there’s one clearly leading the pack. Some Aphrodite kid. Luke’s jaw twitches.
“Hey, princess,” the voice makes you pull away from your talk with Clarisse, but you’re confused. Luke is the only one that calls you that.
“Um, me?” You ask when you see the boy in front of you. He’s tall, chest puffed out. It’s not an endearing silhouette. “What’s up?”
“You wanna be on my team for Capture the Flag tomorrow?” He asks nonchalantly.
You laugh politely, “Sorry, but I don’t think we’re allied with Aphrodite tomorrow. That’s your cabin, isn’t it?” You feel bad that you can’t remember—his face is so … plain.
He chuckles back, but it’s a lot less nice. “No, doll, that’s not what I mean.” He steps a little too close, and even though you know Clarisse is behind you it feels like she’s a thousand miles away. “Well,” he drawls, a smirk drawn out, “you meet me in the forest after we start, and then we can … you know. Confer.”
“Confer?”
“Yeah. You get what I mean, pretty girl, don’t play dumb.”
A revulsion coats your gut. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me that,” you say as firmly as you can.
“What, pretty or dumb? Why not both?”
It’s demeaning, the way he says it, and it stirs a temper in your stomach you know you inherited from your father. You’re not big on confrontation. Or embarrassment. But this weirdo is talking to you out in the open and people are starting to stare. He wouldn’t dish it out if he can’t take it, right?
“I’ll pass on your offer. I have a boyfriend and I’m actually on his team tomorrow, so I’d rather confer with him, sorry.” Your hands wring together but you do your best to quell them, imagining it’s the string of Luke’s camp necklace, threaded between your fingers. You try to look for him out of the corner of your eye.
He snickers, even though it’s common knowledge you and Luke have been together for months now. “So you are dumb, huh?” He tries to smirk and you assume is supposed to be sexy, but it’s just gross. His hand tries to slide around your waist.
“Don’t touch me, please,” you hit his hand away. Your skin is crawling and the knot inside you tightens.“Just leave me alone. People are looking, you know.”
“We could go somewhere where nobody looks,” he sneers, and the grin on his face is so sleazy that you just can’t stand it anymore.
You pray to your father for strength. And to yourself for forgiveness.
“I’m sorry, are you stupid or something? I told you, no.” You snap. “Maybe you’re the pretty dumb one, but for a child of Aphrodite it’s shocking how little the first one applies.”
His eyes are wide, and the posse he’d assembled behind him has attracted quite the view. You almost feel like crying, all these eyes on you, but you’re so sick of people thinking they can walk all over you just because you’re not like your siblings.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m just trying to be nice—” He grabs your wrist as you leave but you yank it hard.
“Don’t. Touch me.” People are staring at you now, but the only one you care about is Luke, who looks equally ticked and equally proud, and all you want to do is kiss him. “Hope the only time we confer tomorrow is if somebody’s sword is at your throat.”
It’s the last thing you say to him. He starts to go after you but Luke is already at your heels. “Back off, man.” You can spot how all his muscles are already rearing themselves for a fight. You wrap a hand around his wrist, and he meets your eyes. Not now.
The altercation is lost the second the two of you leave the bonfire. Nothing matters when Luke has you in his arms, kissing you outside of your cabin, telling you how damn beautiful you looked.
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You’re fixing a new Ares boy’s armour when Luke finds you. “Hey, angel,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. He relishes in the way your face heats up. “You ready for battle?”
You smile, “Always.” You pat the kid on the cheek and send him on his way. He gnashes his teeth and roars, joining his siblings at the front. Luke catches the longing in your expression.
“All good?” He asks gently.
It takes you a second for your eyes to meet his. “Mmhm,” you swallow. “Just hope his armour doesn’t fall off.”
Luke sighs for a moment, then wraps his arms around you. “He’ll be fine, sweetheart. Be safe, okay? Stay close.” He kisses your temple, rubbing circles on the nape of your neck.
“Yes sir,” you reply against his chest. His insides flutter.
He pulls your face up to his and kisses you, tender and wanting. “Let’s show these hooligans who’s boss,” he quips.
“You’ll show them. I’ll hide in the woods until some idiot comes along and tries to ambush you.”
Your dulcet tone has him wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. “You’ve always got my back,” he croons, kissing your brow.
“And you’ve always got our flag.”
You kiss him again and he lets you slip out of his arms no matter how badly he wants to keep you there forever. He watches you vanish into the trees, and his heart goes with you.
He gears up with his team and the horn sounds. Game on.
There’s yelling, sweat, adrenaline, and Luke embraces it all like a man starved. This is his chance to be ruthless, to let all his untapped rage cycle through him. This is why he’s unstoppable. This is why he’s the best.
Clarisse is unusually cooperative today, but competent as always, and whenever someone’s weapon breaks or they lose their team she just barks at them to go find you. You, the smartest person in Ares, who can mend a weapon with nothing but blades of grass and determination. Luke is pretty sure your cabin would be lost without you. He wonders if you know.
The groove of the game has fully enthralled him. He’s alert, his wrist nimble, his sword a living, breathing part of him. There’s almost nothing that can take him out of his victory path until he hears one of the younger campers tell Clarisse he can’t find you anymore.
Whatever nincompoop he’s dealing with is left groaning on the floor. “What?” He barks, hand flexing around his sword. “Where is she?”
“Probably just moved,” Clarisse grunts as she kicks back an opposing camper. “She knows where everything is. Maybe she’s—oof—safer.”
“But how am I supposed to fix my spear?” The kid frowns.
Luke runs his tongue along the roof of his mouth, dry and laden with salt. He told you to stay close. Where would you go? “I’ll find her,” he decides, already sheathing his sword to walk towards the trees.
“Luke—”
“I’ll find her!”
He barely pays attention to the calamity going on around him. With a flick of his wrist he knows he can take out any person he wants. The second he gets to the trees, where the air is cooler, it’s startling how much quieter it is. No wonder this is your preferred hiding spot.
He thanks the quiet a thousand times over because if it had been any louder he wouldn’t have heard you scream.
It’s so short it’s almost indiscernible, but he knows it’s you based on how his body movies before his brain does. It snaps something in him, the adrenaline transformed into something acerbic, determined.
“Don’t fucking scream again.” A cluster of boys are stationed around you. You’re leaning back in the dirt. You barely feel the earth sticking to your skin. Just your heart jostling madly, your fingertips shaking in the ground beside you. “Okay, I won’t, just put the sword down—”
The snarling Aphrodite boy from last night takes a swing at you, and you scramble back just enough to avoid it. “No can do, doll.” His face is twisted with rage. The lackeys he had when you told him off are there too, cornering you against a cluster of trees like you’re some caged animal. There’s a dagger clenched in one of your dirt-ridden fists but you know it won’t do you any good. You can’t fight; you don’t have it in you. But these boys do. And they’re angry.
“Tell me where the flag is,” he orders. The tip of his blade comes under your chin, fogging up with the labours of your breath, your head pressed against the trunk of a tree.
You stutter, “You’re not—You’re not supposed to threaten like this—”
“You embarrassed me in front of all those people yesterday,” he cuts you off. “Thinking you’re so fucking smart. I didn’t even say anything that big a deal but you run your mouth to the entire camp and make me look like the idiot. I thought you were nice.”
The words are laced with poison. You know from the wild look in his eyes that this isn’t about the flag at all.
Tears sting your eyes and the sword grazes your throat. Of course this is happening to you. The one time you feel your father’s rage, when you exemplify the thing you’re told to be, you are punished.
You are never going to be the right kind of daughter.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you try to say it evenly, but your breath is so ragged it’s barely audible. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all that.” You mean it, but they won’t care.
The boy’s face looks pleased at your tears. It makes you inexorably ashamed. “Some fucking Ares kid,” he snorts. “Can’t even fight, can you? Can’t even pretend to.” His sword leaves your throat and travels up to your quivering jaw. You’re wordless, white-knuckling the dagger at your side, praying that Luke is somewhere nearby.
“No wonder they stash you back here. You’re useless.” His eyes scan every part of you, and the idea of him knowing what you look like forever is so revolting it makes you want to vanish. “Too bad you’re alone, though. Nobody’s gonna know I was here because nobody’s gonna hear you.”
Your eyes get wide, and something in your mind rumbles through you like an engine. An urge buried in your blood.
Your dagger tears into his leg just as his sword dashes your arm. The pain is sharp, stinging, but the boy winces and you know you hurt him too. It gives you just enough time to roll out of the way as he lurches forward. “The fuck is wrong with you?” He swears.
Blood drips onto your shorts, splotched with tears. You know you can’t go anywhere because his friends are here and you’re almost certain you’ll be maimed, but you tried. At least you tried.
The Aphrodite boy picks his sword back up, stalks towards you, and then freezes.
Because Luke has just spotted you. And he’s spotted the boy that has you on the ground.
And he’s the best fucking swordsman Camp Half-Blood has seen in three hundred years.
“If you don’t get away from her right now I’m putting this through your skull.” He emerges from the foliage, his sword raised, sweat dripping down his face. You have never seen anyone look angrier. He has never felt angrier.
The boy blanches, and Luke sees how easily his lapdog friends shrink in his presence. Good.
“Woah, easy,” the boy holds his hands up in mock surrender and tries to flash a smile but it’s just fucking pathetic. His arms are shaking and his throat bobs about a million times. “We’re just playing the game.”
“Like hell you are,” Luke spits. “You gang up on my girlfriend and you expect me to believe this is fair play? Want me to tie you all together and push one of you off a cliff to keep the spirit going?”
“Didn’t know she was yours,” the boy tries to shrug but again, it’s a miserable attempt that only makes Luke feel stronger.
“Not that it matters but yes, you do,” Luke chuckles thickly. “I beat your ass in sword training last week. You know exactly who I am. And I’m sure you know who you are, so it’s obvious you’re playing out of your league here.”
Out of the corner of his eye he sees you still cowering, blood dribbling down your arm. He wants to tear the world apart. “Apologize and maybe I don’t send you to the infirmary.”
“We just want the flag, man,” the boy swallows.
“And I want your head on a stick. Want to see who gets what first?”
It’s too provocative an insult for a moron like this to ignore, so soon Luke has the pleasure of disarming five bitter boys that have clearly never been good at a single thing in their life. He tears through them like sheets of paper, knocking them to the dirt, ripping their clothes. He thinks of you, just you, your honest heart and patient hands, and it’s enough to fuel him for a millennia.
The last boy, the leader, is at Luke’s mercy, and he has none to give. The flat of Luke’s blade is pressed horizontally against the boy’s neck, an angering similarity to the position he had you in earlier. “If you ever do this again, I’m going to kill you.”
“You’re—fucking—crazy—” The boy wheezes, the length of the blade squeezing his throat against a tree trunk. “I’ll—I‘ll tell Chiron.”
Luke has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep him from doing something he regrets. “Oh yeah? You want me to tell Chiron how you harassed and terrorised a girl in the middle of the forest all in the name of play? Want me to tell him what you said to her last night at the campfire? Because I’m sure it won’t take much for him to get rid of your ugly face as it is, and I’m a camp counsellor.”
He knows it’s not the most morally correct use of his title. He knows he might be stepping over the line. But he also knows you’re always being ignored or trampled over and he’s tired of pretending like he doesn’t give a damn. He’s tired of people trying to force you into something you’re not. Of you crying in his bed at night because they’re trying to drag a violence out of you that isn’t there. Always in the name of fucking play.
Luke takes the sword off the boy’s neck and shoves him backwards. His calf is bleeding, not a deep wound, but a wound nonetheless, and Luke is full of pride when he realizes you did that. The boy’s bad leg makes him wobble and fall at the force of the push. Luke enjoys watching the scramble. “I—I was just trying to be nice, it’s not my fault she took it the wrong way!” The boy flails his hands in the air, rising to his feet again, and Luke shoves him down twice as hard. A piece of his shirt tears off in Luke’s hand.
“You’ve gotta stop talking or I really am going to kill you,” he seethes. “Don’t touch her ever again. Go.”
Luke is sure he looks homicidal right now because the guy finally tumbles his way down the hill. His body fades into the distance, swallowed up by shrubbery and sweat.
The second he’s gone Luke tosses his sword and armour and gets back to you. “Shit,” he mutters, kneeling down. You’re still shaking, your head in your arms, and all his hatred morphs into a love so desperate it terrifies him. “Angel, come here. Let me see.” He lifts your face with his hands and scans you rapidly. “Did he hurt you anywhere else? Anywhere?”
“Just my arm,” you whimper. “My arm.”
He knows it’s not the cut that’s hurting you; it’s long, but thin, and it’s not bleeding too thickly. He takes the cloth from the Aphrodite boy’s shirt and wraps it around your arm, knotting it at the end. “All right, that should be better.”
You look at him with watery eyes, and he knows all you need is for him to hold you. He folds you in his arms and leans against a stump. You can’t get close to him fast enough. The tip of your nose buries itself in his neck and he feels the dampness of your cheeks on his skin. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re safe,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’m so sorry.”
Guilt swaths over him for a brief moment; he wonders if he shouldn’t have done all that, if he should’ve been more sensible. Then your lips form a ‘thank you’ against his skin and all is forgotten.
You feel so small. The shock is still running its course, so all you can do is cry it out. Your hands still shake when you thread your fingers through Luke’s necklace to steady them. He soothes you the best he can, running his hand along your spine, all the sharpness of his voice softened just for you. “You’re all right, angel. I’m not going anywhere.”
You stay like that for a while. The sounds of the forest return to you; leaves in the wind, birds chirping, Luke’s breath tickling your hair. You crane your head up to nuzzle your nose against the faint stubble of his jaw. “My hero,” you murmur, and feel his skin shift as he smiles.
“Couldn’t have done it without you. Saw the cut you gave him on his leg.” He kisses your temple. “I hope it gets infected.”
You giggle weakly no matter how you try smothering it in his chest. “Gods, you’re awful.”
“He deserves it! I probably should have killed him!”
“You came pretty close, didn’t you?” You mumble. Luke’s expression is wary, but you smile to yourself and it dispels everything. “I was hoping you’d come.”
“Good. Serves them right, messing with you like that. Fucking idiots.” He kisses your face again for good measure, “You sure they didn’t get you anywhere else, princess?”
You nod but you know you look wounded. You nudge into the crook of Luke’s neck again. “They … you know, it’s just … the usual stuff.” Every word weighs a pound as it comes out. Your heart feels sore.
Luke tenses again instantly. “What usual stuff?”
“Um, just—” The shame gets caught in your throat. “They all think I’m useless, Luke. Why can’t I do this right?”
You start to cry again, but he just holds you closer. Sometimes it surprises you how much patience he has. He prides himself as the harsher one between the two of you, but you don’t know who he’s fooling with the way he always knows how to comfort people.
“I don’t know what to do,” you continue, blinking back tears, “I’m not—I’m just not good at this, I don’t know why I’m in Ares, I don’t know why I can’t … be that. Why is he my father? I’m no good at being angry. I want to be angry.”
Luke’s quiet for a moment. Nothing changes except his hand rubbing circles on the nape of your neck again. Then he sighs deeply and says, “You don’t owe your father a damn thing. You don’t owe anyone anything.” He’s resolute, firm, a sharp contrast to his gentle kiss on your hairline. “You’re the smartest, most generous person I know. You need those people in battle. You’ll lose if you don’t.”
The warmth of his skin prompts you to look up at him. He looks different so often, the way he can shift between so tough and so gentle. Sometimes, like now, he’s caught in the middle, the remains of a furious sweat hardening his face, but his eyes are nothing but tender. You think it’s how you like him best.
“Besides, we’re not our parents, right? Who cares about Ares anyway?” Luke shrugs.
“Luke! Don’t say that!” your tears turn into a giggle. “The Gods might punish you!”
“I’ll handle it. There’s enough fight in me for the both of us.”
“Okay, tough guy,” you mutter with a weak smile.
You’re still sniffling. He runs his thumbs across your cheeks, and his gaze softens. “You’re an Ares kid because you are a fighter, angel. You just fight a hell of a lot smarter than the rest of us. Best one I know. Well, other than me.”
It makes you smile. “So second-best?”
“Tied for first.”
He kisses you with that stupid roguish smile. It’s salty with tears and sweat, but it mends your heart anyway. There is nowhere in the world you’d feel safer.
“I love you,” he says against your cheek. “Be as sweet as you want. If anyone has anything to say about it I’ll mess ‘em up good.” Your face warms as his voice drops to your ear, “And I know you’re an Ares kid because you’ll encourage it every time. You might not have a violent bone in your body, but you sure don’t have a problem with me using mine.”
“Diplomatically, Luke. Diplomatically.”
“Sure, sure. Whatever you want.”
You can’t help but kiss him again. You’re not entirely sure why he loves you so much, why you love him so much, but you never feel quite as secure as when you’re with him.
Cheers boom from the other side of camp. Luke’s head perks up like a dog, and you turn back to search for spots of red or blue. “Did we win?” You ask, craning your head to get a better view.
“Don’t care,” Luke says.
You look back at him. His anxious face says it all. “Yes, you do.”
“Okay yes, I do, and I need to see if those douches found our flag so I can choke them out with it.”
You laugh, standing so Luke can jog off to see the state of your team. But before he goes, he picks you up and smothers you in kisses, holding you like you’re his prize.
You are not a fighter, but your boyfriend sure is. And you’re perfectly okay with that.
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tacticalprincess · 8 days
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OMG OMG this hasn’t left my mind all week but imagine könig finally getting his hands on you and breeding you, telling you how he’s going to get you pregnant and he switched out your birth control pills for placebos!! But he’s speaking in german and you can’t understand him :(( even if you can speak german, it’s in some regional dialect and his accent is too thick!!
it’s times like this where könig is more appreciative than frustrated by your slight language barrier. in his mind, it’s not like he’s keeping his plan a secret from you. technically he is telling you, just not in a way your naive mind can understand.
it’s a win-win situation — you love how deep and husky his voice gets when he speaks german, how dehumanizing it is that he’s talking in a language he knows you can’t understand, and he gets to fill your fertile little womb with his potent seed guilt-free. you don’t suspect a thing, whining out pleads for his cum while his thick tip pierces through your squishy cervix, trying to reach deeper inside you than humanly possible to make sure it takes, your legs locking tightly around his waist. you’re only spurred on by the way he’s gritting out confessions in his mother tongue through clenched teeth, his heavy, full balls slamming against your ass in a way that’s almost painful. come on, maus, it’s like you want this just as much as he does…
he tells you he’s doing you a favor, getting rid of those nasty hormone disruptive chemicals you call ‘medicine’. there’s no reason you should be interrupting the natural way of life, especially not when you have a man so capable and willing to go through it with you. dreams of having you be the mother to his brood, watching you get full and round with his babies, ensuring his place in your life and body forever, infiltrate his mind daily, he can’t focus on anything else. which is why he’s confused about why you’re so distraught when you come to him later, complaining with glossy eyes about a late period. he can’t hide how over the moon he is, and will guilt trip you if you suggest alternative options. why would you take away his right to be a father? don’t you love him?
you’re going to be the best mama, schätzchen. don’t you think so?
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sparklovespink · 2 months
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ENHA HYUNG LINE! --- gf w/ strict parents!
18+, blow job, fingering, slut shaming, risky + semi-public sex, lots of teasing,
⠀⠀ ⠀myslut masterlist
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HEESEUNG was not liked by your parents when they met him. they like him a lot more now, at least. loves to help around the house when you have him over for family celebrations. still, when's he's over they never fail to remind you, "keep that door open." you do, because when have you ever known better? not until heeseung shows you. the placement of your room has your bed not in the view from the doorframe so he sits himself at the edge, you knelt in front of him while he lets you rest your head in his hand.
he hushes you, pulls out his cock and guides your mouth onto his tip. he's taking in all of your soft moans, throws his head back at the way your lips kiss along his length. "you just love my cock in this pretty mouth. can't get enough of it." he hisses through gritted teeth when you drag your tongue along the underside of his cock. the risk of getting caught has him so turned on, has him pushing his cock further till your really gagging on him, because you look so fucking pretty choking on his dick.
JAY'S the type of guy to get along with your family immediately. your parents love jay, your siblings think he's the best guy you could've possible brought home, and you know your family would trust him with anything. he comes over for family dinner parties and social events, and your father introduces him to everyone.
so of course no one thinks much when the two of you slip away, jay pulling you into the first empty room down the hall, pressing you against the door. keeps his fingers in your mouth as he fucks you, rolling his hips against your ass. "imagine if you're parents knew how much of a slut you were?" he coos, listening to you whine around his fingers, begging him not to tell. "don't want them to know how good your boyfriend fucks this cunt?" he pulls his fingers out of his mouth and brings them down to your clit, teasing you because he's such a meanie. "c'mon, try to stay quiet for me baby."
JAKE'S a sweet heart, one hundred percent. your parents think he's so sweet, ridiculously kind. sometimes they think he's questionable but they treat him like a son-in-law nonetheless. and he's managed to convince them to let you come over for the holidays. and they think you'll be skiing and going on coffee dates.
which you do, at least when jake doesn't have you bent over the expensive island table of his parents vacation home, splitting you open with his big cock. the house is empty, so he's not holding back, fucking into you at an ruthless pace. you don't know how long he's been at it, fucking you so hard you can barely think about the snow angels you had asked him to make with you just moments ago. "s'much better than being out in the snow, right baby?" he'll ask, balls deep inside your warm cunt, thumbs rubbing circles on your hips. "mmm, so much better."
SUNGHOON might have been liked by your parents before you even realized loved him. they worship the ground he walks on, always inviting him over without even asking you. sometimes, you'll come home to find them sitting with sunghoon in the living room, waving you over. sometimes you wondered if these were really the same strict parents that raised you.
and they're love for sunghoon has you so amused. what would they think if they knew he was the one finger fucking your poor cunt barely minutes after greeting them? the two of you on your bed, and he has you sat on his lap, hand in your panties and his fingers working fast. you clench so hard at the sound of footsteps, thighs closing. he forces them back open, scissors his fingers inside of you. "shh baby, s'all good." he whispers, groping your tit with his free hand as you grind down on his thigh, "you're alright."
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xxsabitoxx · 7 months
Text
Confession | Kinktober
Priest Geto Suguru x AFAB Reader
Warnings: religion, sacrilege, fucking a priest, blow jobs, finger fucking, explicit language, squirting, pet names, mild gaslighting
A/N: Day three is here! This one may be offensive to anyone who is religious so please proceed with caution.
WORD COUNT: 3.6K
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“Tell me, what have you come here for?” You squirmed a bit against the uncomfortable wooden chair. The box itself was pretty dim, only a small, uncovered lightbulb was illuminating the musty space. Through a mesh window on your left, the man spoke with a gentle tone. “I’ve come to confess my sins to you, father.” You couldn’t calm your racing heart, hands twisting tightly together as you mentally prepare yourself to receive his blessings. “Is that so? Please, my dear, tell me the things that haunt you.” Again, his tone was enough to make you shudder. Although it was gentle, it sparked something warm deep within your gut. 
“You see, father, I’ve been a terribly naughty girl.” You swallowed, eyes shutting slowly as you tried to focus on your own words. “Go on.” This time it was a little less gentle, a little more gruff. It made warmth flood your cheeks, your eyes blinking open in surprise. You knew what the priest looked like, having attended some of his masses before. You knew he was a devastatingly attractive man, one around your age, and one unfortunately sworn to celibacy. That, however, didn’t make you want him any less. “Father Suguru, I���ve done things I shouldn’t have… to myself.” You spoke in a low tone, listening to him hum softly before asking “Like what? What have you done to yourself?” he took the bait, your heart hammering in your chest. 
“I've touched myself, for my own pleasure.” You held your breath, vaguely certain that Father Suguru did too. After a moment of your confession hanging in the air, he spoke up. “Oh? How many times have you committed this sin?” his tone wasn’t as gentle now, rather it held a level of strain to it. You could hear him shifting in his seat on the other side of the small confessional wall. “Many times, father. I’ve lost count… which is why I’ve come to you. I want to be cleansed of my filthy acts, only your generous mercy can free my tainted soul.” You stroked his ego with each word, a devious grin plastering to your lips as you heard him clear his throat. 
“Sweet girl, by his grace I can cleanse you. But for it to truly work, I’m going to need you to be a little more specific. Tell me how you committed this act, recall one of the moments for me.” you could have choked on the little saliva that was in your mouth, heat pooling deep down as you recalled the last time you masturbated. “Oh well, last night I…” You stopped when you heard him inhale sharply, your teeth sinking into the side of your cheek before you asked “Father Suguru, are you alright?” You tried to sound innocent, praying your smirk wasn’t evident in your tone. “I-I’m alright, I was just taken by surprise. I didn’t think you’d be so bold as to touch yourself the night before coming to see me. But by all means…” his tone was mildly condescending “... go on.” 
Your thighs pressed together, alleviating the mild ache just a bit. You hadn’t even gotten into the details with him, yet you could feel your own arousal dampening your underwear. “Well, you see, I was laying in my bed all alone. I got bored, my mind wandered and I started to think about such sinful things, Father. They got the better of me and I found myself kicking off the sheets and using my hands to toy with my breasts.” You swallowed, one hand coming up to hold your breast as you spoke, as if needing a physical reminder for all the things you had done. “A-and that wasn’t enough. I felt so achy down there that I couldn’t help taking my panties off and spreading my legs…” You stopped again, letting it hang in the air as you tried to compose yourself. 
Beyond the confessional wall, Father Suguru was gritting his teeth, trying desperately to even his breathing as his cock started to strain against his pants. He wasn’t supposed to know who was sitting beside him, but your voice was recognizable. What a sinful girl you were, always attending his masses in such short sundresses. Your smile was addicting, just like the way your hips swayed as you walked up to him to chat after the mass was done. The thoughts you made him think, the things you made him feel… you must have been a temptation sent by the devil. But god dammit, it turns out he was a weak, weak man. He couldn’t resist the temptation of you for much longer he feared. Especially now. “And then what did you do?” he breathed out, quieter. 
“Father, is this really necessary?” you feigned innocence again, all the while you were slowly parting your legs. “Y-yes, go on. For your sins to be properly forgiven, you must tell me in detail.” You could hear his voice straining again, threatening to crack if you asked him something else. “Alright then…” you sighed, legs spreading enough for your hand to slip down and press on your aching cunt. You nearly whimpered, swallowing the noise by clearing your throat. “I used my hand to reach down there and play with myself.” You admitted with warm cheeks, the heat radiating from where your fingers were pressing was enough to make you squirm, the old wooden chair creaking as your hips  swivelled. Father Suguru was losing the battle, hand shakily holding his fully erect length and squeezing it roughly in hopes of helping the ache. 
“And?” he said again, as if working on autopilot. “I played with my pussy until I climaxed.” you stated boldly, using two fingers to press directly over your aching clit. You heard it loud and clear now, a deep rumbling groan from the priest beside you. “You know, such a sinful act needs more of a demonstration.” he spoke with a surprisingly level tone, letting go of his aching bulge to stand. You, on the other hand, had frozen in your seat. “A-a demonstration? Father Suguru, I just bore my soul to you by explaining verbally.” But you heard him click his tongue, “Nonsense girl, you’ve yet to bare your soul to me in any capacity.” You pushed your dress down, hand resting on your lap instead of your cunt as you straightened, Through the mesh window, you could see he was standing. “An intervention for a tainted soul like yours needs to happen face to face.” 
You couldn’t help but gasp, watching through the window as he pushed the door to the confessional open and stepped out. A moment later you were standing, shamelessly pushing the door open to stand in front of the clearly worked up priest. “Father Suguru…” you started innocently yet again, as if you weren’t the direct cause of his raging erection. His jaw was clenched tight, his hair out of its uniform bun and instead styled in a half up half down look. It only made you want him more, especially with the way his tanned cheeks were flushed red. His pupils were swallowing the pretty brown of his eyes, his fingers were tugging at the tight collar of his black clergy top. Your eyes zeroed in on the bulge in his pants before trailing back up. 
“You need to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness.” You blinked, eyes roaming the empty pews of the cathedral’s main room. His voice was echoing, sending a shiver down your spine as stain glass windows looked back at you. “Father Suguru I…” you swallowed, truly not anticipating the priest to go as far as he was. You hadn’t gotten this far in your daydreams, because you always convinced yourself the holy man wouldn’t give into temptation. Yet, you were taking a step forward, dropping to your knees before him on the cold marble floor. You felt like you should be ashamed of what you were about to do, not only in front of an altar, but with a priest… a man who swore his life to this work. 
“Don’t speak.” he commanded slowly, fixing you in place with a hard stare. Your lips closed again, any sort of reason leaving your mind as he started undoing his belt with one hand. The other came down to tuck some hair behind your ear, the motion far too gentle for the flames burning in his gaze. “Be a good girl for me, open your mouth and stick out your tongue.” You obeyed, Suguru’s eyes watched with dilated pupils as your pretty lips parted and your tongue appeared. He breathed out through his nose, leaning over you a little as his belt came undone. You flinched as he spit, saliva landing perfectly in your mouth. “Swallow it, sweet girl.” you did, eyes locking with his as you swallowed the contents in your mouth.
“You must really want forgiveness.” He mused, quickly undoing the button and zipper of his black slacks. You nodded slowly, being mindful to remain quiet just as he had asked. “Surely, this is your ticket to salvation.” You held in a gasp as Suguru pulled out his cock. It was certainly bigger than you had anticipated, tanned and long with pretty veins running up the sides. “Father Suguru… please…” you rasped, mouth watering at the sight of his pretty cock. “Atta girl, beg for your forgiveness, you can speak now.” Your lips parted, eyes trained on the oozing tip as Suguru wrapped his hand around the middle of his shaft. He was taunting you with it, moving it side to side just to watch your eyes follow it wherever it went.
“F-father Suguru I… I want to be forgiven for my sins… I want you to cleanse my soul with your gracious hands… Father Suguru please…” you begged him, breathing turning laboured as you waited for him to stop the torture and give you what you wanted. Suguru held his breath for a moment, heart racing as each syllable fell from your lips. “Please… god please.” you were breathless, eyes watering as you looked up at him. “Yes…” Suguru whispered, squeezing his length tightly before taking a half step forward. He was in mouth’s reach now, making your hips wiggle as your lips parted for him. “Please…” you said again, shivering as his second whisper of yes reached your ears. You took initiative now that he gave you his permission. 
You kept your hands folded nearly on your lap, only using your mouth to take him. With Suguru’s guidance, the weeping head of his cock was slipping between your lips. You inhaled through your nose, jaw struggling to open wide enough to accommodate him as you pushed your head further down his length. You were determined to take the priest’s entire cock, you wanted to hear his pretty moans bouncing off the walls of the cathedral. You locked eyes with him, swallowing around him just to see his eyes nearly roll back. You had to wonder if this was the first time he had ever gotten head, maybe this would be the first time he ever got to touch a woman. The idea of the priest above you being a virgin made your cunt clench around nothing. 
Suguru’s lips were parted, letting go of his cock as you began to bob your head, hands obediently on your lap. “Such a good girl… such a good girl… so so good…” be babbled softly, hands coming to cup your cheeks and guide you as his cock slipped in and out of the wet cavern of your mouth. You got off on his praise, fingers itching to sink between your thighs and toy with your clit just as you had described to father Suguru moments earlier. “So good, you’re such a good girl for not touching yourself yet. Surely you’ll be forgiven…” he groaned, head tilting back as your nose brushed the dark mess of hair at the base of his cock before you pulled back again. Each pass over your tongue, each time your throat constricted around him, it was enough to send him into a blissful state of euphoria. It was enough to make him question his beliefs. 
Your mouth was too preoccupied to ask, but you desperately wanted to touch his balls. They were sitting there, taunting you, growing shiny as your saliva cascaded down his shaft. You moved one hand, eyes still locked on his neck and chin since he was tilting his head back, to test the waters. Suguru didn’t seem to notice as your fingers danced up his thigh, tongue still lavashing him as your head moved back and forth in a steady rhythm. You hesitated for only a moment before gingerly cupping him, watching as his head shot forward to look down at you with a shocked expression. They were warm and heavy with his cum, tightening as you massaged them between your fingers. “Oh… good girl…” he said again, voice a little more broken than before as he uttered the same praise for you. 
The repetitiveness of it wasn’t an issue for you, if anything it got you going more. Every time he uttered the phrase, you felt yourself grow wetter, you were certain your panties were absolutely destroyed at this point. “I-I’m going to cum if you keep doing that… is that what you want, sweet girl?” he cooed, regaining a little composure as he spoke to you. You hummed, sending vibrations straight through him and eliciting a moan from his lips. “You want my cum, don’t you sweet girl. You want me to shoot my load right down your throat, right?” you hummed again, moaning around his twitching length as you squeezed his balls a little harder. Suguru cursed, the sound coming from the priest were enough to have your nipples bubbling, brushing uncomfortably against the material of your bra. “Fuck…fuck…” he panted, cheeks flushing a dark shade of pink as his fingers buried in your hair, no longer gentle as he rutted his hips into your mouth. 
You gagged, fully unprepared for the priest to take over the way he had, the sound echoing and only fueling the fire in his gut. Tears welled in your eyes, spilling over and down your cheeks as you let him thrust into your mouth as he pleased, fingers fisting in your hair just as your free hand fisted in the material of your sundress. You inhaled through your nose, lightheaded as the priest abused your throat to his liking. “Gonna… fuck gonna cum… oh yes, fuck… gonna cum down that pretty throat.” you whined, eyes nearly shutting before he commanded you to keep them open. “Look at me, the only way you can be forgiven is if you look at me, sweet-ah-girl.” He gritted his teeth, the pleasure ebbing up the back of his spine was going to make his knees week. Dutifully, you kept your eyes on him, watching his jaw go slack before he finally came. 
You flinched, throat constricting at the extra intrusion but relaxing a moment later. You swallowed, mildly disappointed he had waited until he was nearly down your throat to cum. You didn’t get to taste much, not until he drew his hips back and the salty taste dragged over your tongue. Suguru was panting, watching you reach up to rub your aching jaw as he tried to even his breathing. “You’re on the road to forgiveness, sweet girl. But I don’t quite think you’re there yet.” You looked at him with mild hurt, you had thought you had done so good. “Be a doll and strip for me… sit on the pew and demonstrate your sins from last night.” the priest was tucking his now softened cock away, trying to act as if he weren’t flustered in the slightest. “Father Suguru…” you spoke, voice slightly raspy from his use. 
“Yes? I believe I made myself clear.” he watched as you stood to your full height again, pulling your sundress off with no shame. You held his gaze as you pulled your ruined panties down, making sure he could see how destroyed they were before dropping them on the cold marble and walking down the few steps to the first row of pews. “I would much rather instruct you, I think it only makes sense for your pure hands to cleanse me of my sins in the deepest way.” You sat on the cold, polished wood, looking up at him where he stood on the elevated stage. He seemed to ponder your implications, huffing out a laugh before responding. “I guess that makes the most sense, you’re quite a smart, sweet girl.” You smiled at him, spreading your legs and moving to plant your feet on the pew. You were fully spread, the position mildly uncomfortable but you couldn’t really think past that point as cool air met your slick, displayed cunt. 
“Father Suguru, please… I want to be pure.” you coaxed him down, watching as he took shaky footsteps before dropping to his knees before you. “Tell me, sweet girl. Tell me how you indulged yourself and tainted your soul… let me save you.” You shivered as his fingers trialed up the bare skin of your thighs, brown eyes observing your cunt dutifully. Your hands found their home pressed flat to either side of you, supporting you against the polished wood. “My clit… I played with it until I left a wet mark on my sheets… I didn’t let myself cum for a long while…” you breathed out, watching as he nodded, cheeks red and lips glossy as his tongue swiped across them. “I see…” he started, moving one calloused finger to swipe up your slick folds. “...like this? Gentle strokes and circles, right?” he used his thumb to press against your clit, rubbing it in circles until he felt you twitch. “Y-yeah…” you sighed, head falling back. 
Suguru smirked, not moving any quicker. Your pretty sounds began to fill the empty cathedral, your arousal dripping down to the polished bench below you. He was careful with his movements, slowing until he was barely moving when he noticed you clenching around nothing, trying to draw your orgasm closer. “Be a good girl and let it happen… don’t force your body to cum because you think I’ll leave you hanging, sweet girl.” you whined, releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding until he said that. You forced your head back down, face warm as you realized he was still intently staring at you. Granted you had done the same to him as you got him off. “Tell me, is this how you were sinning last night?” Suguru waited until you were about to speak, using two fingers and slipping them straight into your slick core. “Y-yeah…” 
Your body tensed again at the intrusion, moaning loudly as he massaged your walls. “I promise you, sweet girl, I will cleanse you.” he cooed, eyes focusing solely on you as he gauged your reactions. He would find that one particular spot, he was sure of it. “Please Father Suguru… cleanse me…” you cried out as he brushed it, a smirk curling the ends of his lips as he pressed his fingers into the front of your walls, thumb still sloppily rubbing your clit while his other hand squeezed your thigh. “S-Su…Father Suguru…” you croaked, tears leaking down your cheeks as he abused that one spongy part of your cunt. You couldn’t think straight, mind blanking completely as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. “Go on, sweet girl, cum on my fingers.” He encouraged, voice so gentle you would have never guessed he was knuckle deep in your cunt. 
Suguru could feel it of course, your walls fluttering and twitching around his fingers as more and more of your slick arousal slipped out of you and down to the pew. “I’m gonna cum… Fa-ahh” you couldn’t get the rest out, hip jerking as your orgasm hit you before you could truly prepare. You cried out, the noise bouncing off of the cathedral walls as the priest continued to finger your cunt and circle your clit with his thumb. “S-Stop oh fuck s-stop…” you wheezed out, an unfamiliar feeling building in your gut as he continued to abuse that one spot with his fingers. “No, this is what you need, sweet girl, let it happen.” he encouraged, lips parted as he watched where his fingers had disappeared inside of you very intently. Your eyes screwed shut, trying to fight off the feeling but it was useless, the priest was unrelenting in his movements. 
Shockwaves of your orgasm turned into a full blown tsunami, your head falling back as a gush of fluid sprayed out of you and onto the bench and marble floor below. You cried out, his name mixed somewhere in the jumble of your babbling, utterly embarrassed. Finally, Father Suguru stopped, withdrawing from your body entirely and getting off his knees. “Sweet girl, what a mess.” he scolded you, a devious grin on his face still as he looked your wrecked frame over. “You’ve been cleansed, pretty. But I would argue that we should double… or even triple check to make sure it’s really working.” Your body felt heavy, eyes lidded as you merely nodded, cunt still fluttering at the thought of getting more of the priest before you. 
“I’ll make sure you are pure, my sweet girl.”  
3K notes · View notes
clan-ackerman · 1 month
Text
-----mdni-----
------18+-----
🩸🩸 BUTTER KNIVES🩸🩸
Human!Alastor x f!reader
blood / size kink / bitting / incorrect usage of knives / virgin reader / fucking in general / ALASTOR IS FILTHY AS HELL / porn with plot
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Your father always disapproved of him. A girl like you should never marry such man.
"A radio host? Pumpkin, you need a man who will be able to look after you when you grow old." Your father had said to you when you had gathered all your courage at dinner table one evening.
"But... I love him father..." You mumbled quietly.
"Love? You're far too young to know what love is. And besides, didn't you see at the ball how all the girls were looking at him? I can bet, that he looks at all the girls the same." Your father continued and dabbing at his moustache with napkin, cleared his throat:
"I must head out. Moon is out tonight and it's perfect for hunting. Lads will be waiting on me by now."
"Stay safe." Your mother kissed your father on cheek and saw him off. You were left sitting alone at the table, staring at your half eaten plate.
"Dont take it so hard, petal." Your mother stood next to you and gently run her hand through your hair.
"A man I respect is keeping me away from the man that my heart yearns for..." You sighed.
"Does father want me to marry someone I do not love? I'd kill myself in such marriage, mother."
"Don't even say such thing. You know your father is only looking out for you. For your future." Your mother said, trying to calm you.
"Alastor is also looking out for me." You narrowed your eyes at mother. With a hard look down at you, your mother advised:
"I think... It would be better if you did not see him anymore. Don't make your father angry, petal."
You looked up at her, not believing what she had just said.
"What..? Mama... How could you say such thing?" Your lip started to tremble. With blurry vision you looked around the table, butter knives shining in dim light. With angry huff you tried to brush your tears away and stood up, chair falling over in process. Your mother took a step back:
"Behave now." Mother said in sharp tone. You took a quick glance at the clock on the mantle piece and then bolted for the door.
"Where are YOU going at such hour?!" Your mother grabbed your hand before you even got two steps away from table.
"Clearly away from here." You spat, not breaking eye contact.
"You will sit back down, finish your dinner and go straight to bed." Your mother stated, her grip on your arm tightening. What she didn't notice, was how your other hand sneaked behind you and blindly reached for the first thing - the glimmering butter knife.
"I will not do such thing. Now. Let. Go." You said through gritted teeth.
"That's it. You insolent daughter." Your mother's hand reached up to grab your hair, but before she could do so - you were pointing the knife at her.
With wide eyes, both of you stared at the knife that was between you two.
"Mother.... I'm so sorry... I didn't mean--"
Your mother looked up at you and in one swift motion slapped you right across your face. With a cry you clutched your cheek and finally escaped the house. Leaving your mother to seeth back at the doorstep.
Quickly running down the front stairs of the house, you bolted across the yard. Ducked through the wooden fence that held your father's horses out of mother's garden, and run bare feet in the field. Trying to put as much distance between her and yourself.
When you finally had reached the other far off side of stockyard, you felt like you could breath again. Not bothering to climb over the fence you sat in the wet dewy grass and leaned against the fence pole. Distinct sounds of hunters gunshots and hound howls echoed in the forest behind.
You looked down at your hands. Right one still clutching the butter knife. From holding it incorrectly in your hand while on the run, you had accidentally nicked your fingers. New tears gathered in your eyes and you let out pathetic whimper.
"Y/n...?" You heard steps approaching on the other side of the fence on the gravel road.
"A-Alastor?" You immediately jumped up. Switching the knife from one clammy hand to other and hiding it behind your back. Now free hand, whipped your nose and cheeks, unknowingly to you - leaving red streaks across your face.
"What has my darling doe crying?" He quickly approached the fence when he picked up on your sniffling.
"Its fine, Alastor. Just had quarrel with my mother." You tried to laugh it off.
"A bloody one, as I see." He eyed you, reaching for your cheek. You tried to step away, but his warm touch was so inviting.
"Show me your hands, love." he said. He wasn't asking.
Swallowing thickly you brought both hands in front of you. Feeling like child in trouble. Trembling, and both bloody by now.
"We were having family dinner. And my father was reminiscing on the previous ball. And asked if I fancied any men there-" Alastor eyed you sharply for a second, unknowingly to you as you kept on rambling:
"-and I said that there was a man that I have had eyes for such long time, that the other men at the ball didn't even interest me. And he asked who. I said it's you. And he said that I should look elsewhere. I stood my ground and told him I love you. And he disapproved. Then mother said I should listen to him. Then she was screaming, saying I should stop seeing you. I got angry. She grabbed me. Tried to pull my hair and I... I just -I just pulled a knife at her... And then... And now I'm here..." You ranted so quickly that now you were out of breath.
With gentle chuckle, Alastor reached for your hand that was holding the knife, his ever seeing eyes, noticing the cuts on your other palm. He slowly frapped your fingers alongside his around the hilt of the butter knife and pulled both of your hands across the fence.
"When in dire straits, slice the sinew to halt movement," he murmured, gently drawing the knife across his chest. "Stab and pivot to temporarily cease motion," he directed, gesturing towards the center of his chest.
"You're wicked, Alastor..." You mumbled looking up at him.
"And you should never shed your blood. Though I am touched by your eagerness in defending your convictions concerning me, I would prefer not to witness your blood spilled, my love."
"Even if blood is such a pretty colour on you." He continued, his eyes flickering across your face. Standing up on the first wooden beam of the fence, he now stood way taller than you. Grabbing your chin he tilted your face one way, then the other.
"Since you say I'm wicked-" he gave you a cheeky smile,
"I might be afraid that your parents are correct. You should stay away from me." He looked away from you and across the field behind you.
"But I love you, Alastor..." You whispered so quietly, afraid that he might not have heard you.
"You have brought a knife in bloody hands tonight. What an odd way of confessing one's love." He bent his head closer to your face.
"What a lovely thing you are." His voice suddenly sounded sultry. It was enough for you to stand on your tippy toes and press your lips against his.
You could feel his smile against your lips. One of his hands sneaking to hold the back of your neck and pulling you closer. When that was not enough, in swift motion his legs swung over the fence and he was right in front of you. His lips never leaving yours.
It felt so right to kiss him. To kiss him felt like finally quelling an obsession. Just to feel the painful withdrawal as soon as his lips traveled to your neck to leave love bites there. Love bites that bloomed the same way as the blood splatters on your light summer dress.
His hands traveled down your back, the butter knife still in his hand. Both of you knew that no one would come down this road at this hour, but there was urgency in your actions. Desperation, almost. Your hands traveled to the front of his shirt, to get rid of the bow tie and open couple of buttons.
"The next move shan't be quite gentlemanly of me, my doe.." he was breathing hard and put the hilt of the knife in his mouth. His tongue briefly tasted your blood on it. Alastor's hands deftly gathered the skirt part of your dress and pushed you against the fence. Then raising the fabric around your hips and bunching it to the side, he grabbed the knife and pinned your dress to the fence.
"Alastor..." Your breath caught in your throat as your lower half was exposed to the cold nights air.
"Too much?" He asked, now stepping closer as his hands worked on his belt.
He clearly did intend to fuck you here. In empty field. Against a fence. In middle of the night.
"No, just perfect, you're perfect..." you breathed, hands looping around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.
"Lovely." He whispered and kissed you. His hand reaching down between your legs.
"Ah..." You moaned at the first contact.
"Needy little thing you are..." Alastor sighed against your lips, feeling the wetness between your legs.
It was the first time someone else's hands were touching you down there, besides your own. Feeling was not entirely new, but the anticipation was almost killing you. Your hand around Alastor's neck tightened, pulling him down, so you could hide your face in his shoulder. Breath heavy against his neck.
His fingers deftly slid through your slit.
"How.. many...?" Alastor implied, trying to shift his face away and look at you, making him pull his hand slightly away and his fingers circling back to your clit.
"Ah.." you gasped, not hearing his question and just trying to hide your face again.
"Sweetheart..." Alastor's hand slid from your cunt and instead dug his fingers in - right where your thigh met your pussy. This finally got your attention and your head shot up to look at him. You could almost swear that you could see your own debauched image reflecting in his glasses. He tilted his head down at you, and your reflection was gone and his warm eyes were staring right into your soul.
"How many men you have sle-" before he could ask the question you were shaking your head.
"None. No one." You said. "None has touched me this way," you looked down at his hand between your legs. His pointer finger that was closest to your pussy, slowly slid through your slit once more. Your head fell back and you stared at the sky. Stars were slowly starting to appear in the night sky.
"... except myself." You swallowed. Your head feeling empty of any coherent thought. Alastor's mouth fell open slightly:
"Say the word, and I'll stop, my doe..." He leaned down to your exposed neck, and gently run his nose up and down your pulse point.
Your hand shot down and grabbed his wrist:
"I want you and you alone."
His smile against your neck was almost infectious.
"Well, then... To rephrase..." He planted slow, open-mouthed kisses against your shoulder, his free hand pulling your dress down your shoulder. He moved his lips against your ear, as if to tell you something that no one else could ever hear:
"...How many of your own fingers have you taken?" you could hear his wicked smile in his voice. And you could feel his hand moving between your legs. His middle finger slowly, almost feather lightly, circled your clit and slid down to your opening. Your breath hitched:
"A-Alastor..."
When you didn't provide him the answer, he quickly pulled his hand out of your underwear and grabbed your hand putting it up between both of you. He pressed his palm against yours and looked at your hands. You did the same. Both of you could see how his fingers shined in the moonlight from your wetness coating them.
"Tell me."
"One."
"How far?"
You were staring at your pressed together hands. He was looking straight at you, watching how your eyes showed the realization of how much bigger his hands were and how longer his fingers were.
"Second knuckle..." You whispered and your eyes met his, over the frames if his glasses.
"Oh, my little doe... I will give you so much more than that..." He chuckled and looked at your hands as his fingers interlinked with yours.
"When I kneel before you, you shall receive all I offer. Diligently." He let go of your hand and took off his glasses.
"Understood?"
You nodded. For such a gentleman, he definitely had such a filthy mouth. You'll soon learn it both ways.
"Hold these for me, will you?" He innocently asked and put his glasses on you, quite lower so you could stare over the round frames. Before you could say anything else, he was on his knees in the dewy grass, both of his hands sliding up your bare legs. His lips gently leaving kisses on your hips as he dragged your panties down your legs. You couldn't look away from him. His soft lips moving from one hip, across your stomach to the other side. His fingers running between your folds, time to time coming up to circle your clit and then tease your entrance by dipping in a fingertip.
"Mark me..." you breathed out as one of your hands slid to his hair.
"That will hurt." He looked up at you.
"You won't hurt me. I trust you, Al..." You said through a moan.
"...where...?" He quietly inquired.
God, please, everywhere.
"Here..." you gently tapped your hip. Alastor smiled, leaned closer, pressed his lips to the top of your hand and then gently bit your fingertip.
"This shall mean you're mine, my love, I hope you are preparing for the consequences that it ensues." He said against your skin as you pulled your hand away.
"I was yours as soon as our eyes locked when I saw you riding horses with the hunters all those years ago..." You moaned as his fingers circled your clit, as if he was encouraging you to finish your though. Next second, you felt his teeth sink into your skin and his middle finger plunging into you.
"Alastor! Ah.." both of your hands flew to his hair, as your hips jerked against his hand.
"Shhh.." Alastor smiled against the blooming love bite. His eyes then locked on how you were taking his finger.
"Good girl." His smiled and looked up at you. His other hand joining to circle your clit.
"Oh Lord..." You moaned. He playfully rolled his eyes at you and leaned his temple against your hip.
"Such a good girl, taking my fingers so well." He praised, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He twisted his finger and you let out a high pitch keen.
"Look at me." He straighted a little. Your eyes locked with his. Opening his mouth, he stuck his tongue out. Your eyes grew big, and a flash of warmth traveled down from your chest to your legs. Your pussy involuntary clamping down on his finger. And then his mouth was on you. As soon as his tongue got the first taste of you, his eyes fell shut and he moaned against you, sending vibrations straight through you.
"Ahh...ha...." You moaned loudly, both hands moving to his hair and pulling it. He lapped at your pussy as if he was a starving man. He sucked on your clit and then you felt a second finger stretching you open.
"Please.... Just don't stop..." You moaned, your hips jerking against his mouth. His fingers picked up the speed and your breathing did the same.
"I think I'm going to..." Your hold on his hair grew tighter and you were starting to push his mouth harder against your weeping cunt. Alastor grunted, his hand that was constantly squeezing your ass traveled down to his crotch and palmed himself. His pants growing too tight.
Alastor curled his fingers forward and sucked hard on your clit. With a loud cry you came on his fingers and tongue. You yourself could never reach such intense peak. Your toes curled, your knees almost wishing to pull together. You pressed Alastor's head closer to your dripping core, at the moment careless if he could breathe or not.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckkk..." Your eyes rolled back into your skull. For a moment you felt weightless, your hands falling away from his hair, to hold onto to the fence beams that you were leaning against.
Flatly dragging his tongue from your twitching hole up your slit to the clit, he placed chaste kiss on your mound. Alastor leaned back and looked up at you.
When you had gathered at least some wits about you, you looked down at him. His chin and lips were glistening from your cum.
"You taste sweet." He gave you a wink and licked his lips.
"Alastor..." You whispered his name and in swift motion crossed your hands and pulled the dress over your head. Leaving it hanging by the knife. Alastor was caught off guard and sat back, his hands slowly starting to unbutton his vest and then his shirt.
Was Alastor intending to fuck you against the fence or where you intending to ride him in the dewy grass?
In two quick steps you were in front of him and straddling his hips. Your lips immediately seeking out his and hands helping him to unbutton his shirt faster. With a groan he pulled away and grabbing your hand dragged it down his chest to the front of his pants. Unzipping his pants you dipped your hand in his boxers.
"Fuck..." He moaned, his eyes rolling back. You wrapped your hand around his cock and gently freed him from the confines of his pants.
"How is that going to fit...?" You blurted out when you looked down at him and gave him two long strokes.
"... perfectly..." He hissed through his teeth and threw his head back when your thumb swiped across his dripping tip. You switched your hands, and raised now free hand up to your face. Alastor looked at you through lidded eyes. Gently you licked your finger, tasting him on your skin. Seeing you do that, Alastor's hips jerked up into your fist and his eyes fluttered shut.
"Lover." He gritted through clenched teeth. His hands coming to hold your hips. You only smiled at your ability to drive him as insane and he was driving you. You slid your hand down to his base and gently squeezed.
"Cheeky little thing..." Alastor opened his eyes and pulled you in for a kiss by your neck. It was slow but messy. Tongues twisting, saliva smearing against both of your lips.
You got up on your knees and wrapped your hands around Alastor's neck. However, he grabbed your hand and wrapped it around his cock alongside his own.
"Now, now." He smiled against your lips. "You gotta learn how to take it. Put. It. In." Alastor whispered absolute filth against your lips and moved your hand so that his cock dragged through your soaked folds.
With a shaky breath you dragged his cock through your folds once more. Pausing on your clit and moaning against Alastor's lips.
"Yes... Take your pleasure..." He whispered.
Then moving his cock down, you pushed it's tip against your entrance. And then with a hissfrom your mouth, your hips were flush with his. The unknown feeling between your legs made you bite Alastor's lip. He groaned in your mouth, but didn't pull away if both of you felt the tangy taste of blood.
Alastor was patient with you, and let you decide when and how to move. But once your hips started to twitch against his, Alastor ground hips up into yours. His warm hands moved up to your back and shoulder blades to pull you closer. Your own hands tangled themselves in his dark hair and scratched down his back. By now your moans were echoing the same as the hounds of the hunters.
"Harder.. Al... Please..." You moaned against his cheek, as your hips moved up and down. Your desperate cunt twitching around his cock and making Alastor moan in your ear.
Next moment you were on your back, your legs on his shoulders as he leaned over you. Your eyes locked with his. Both of you as mirrored image to each other. Hair disheveled, foreheads sweaty, short rapid breaths. And then he was fucking you as if this is the last night out here with stars. As if the coming morning you won't stop by the coffee shop where he gets his morning dose of caffeine.
The way his cock so deliciously dragged against your walls - you had nothing in this world to compare it to. Leaking tip of his cock was carving your cunt out with every push back in, and each drag of it made you clench around him. As if to say, that you need him back in and not let him pull out.
You grabbed Alastor's cheeks:
"I'm in love with you...." He said first, as if he had read your thoughts on what you were about to say.
"I love you." You smiled back and pulled him in for a kiss that was broken by your moan as Alastor gave harsh thrust, hitting your cervix. Making you lose your breath momentarily.
"More.. please..." You begged, your cunt twitching around him.
"Fuck..." Alastor moaned, his hips taking on harsher and faster movements. You could swear that you felt him in your guts. Your hand traveled down your stomach and pressed on the outline of his cock. He smirked at you, as if saying that no other cock will ever be this deep, no one ever will pleasure you the same way.
"You're mine..." He groaned. Letting your legs off his shoulders, he pulled your lower lip with his thumb until your mouth opened and he could slide his finger in. Your tongue latched around his digit and sucked hard, making him stutter in his movements as he wondered how to use that mouth of yours in other ways.
With press on your tongue, your mouth opened once more, Alastor pulled his finger out and dived in to kiss you. Your tongues meeting before your lips could. You moaned in his eager mouth as his wet thumb now circled your clit. Your hips raising to meet his thrusts. When your wandering hands were enough for him, he grabbed them and pinned both of them above your head.
"Keep them there..." He said breathlessly and leaned back lifting your hips with his.
He was fucking you like drowning animal would fight for air. And the pleasure was rapidly pulling both of you under. The way your cunt clenched around him more and more frequently, was a sign that you were close. As if not being able to stand not touching him, your hand raised to rest on his stomach, feeling the lean muscles flexing there.
Not wanting to soil you on your first sexual encounter, Alastor was ready to pull out when your legs wrapping around his hips locked him in place. Sliding his hands up your legs and then sides, he leaned over you.
Your orgasm approached you unknowingly, as such intense feeling you have never felt before.
"I got you. Just let go." Alastor said against your chest as his forehead rested against your collarbone. With a moan that stole all your breath - you came. Alastor's name tumbling out of your lips like the sweetest honey. Your body arched off the ground and pressed against Alastor. Not knowing what to do with your hands as all nerve ends felt like going haywire, you opt to grab Alastor's hips and, as if your legs being locked around him wasn't enough, you pulled him against you.
Corrupting such sweet doe as yourself felt so rewarding. He could almost feel your orgasm on his tongue. Perhaps that was just taste of your cunt that kept lingering on his tongue. His own hips stuttered and with deep groan he came deep inside you, his teeth latching on the side of your left breast, leaving another love bite to remind you of this night of debaucheries.
For a moment neither of you moved. Still ongoing gunfires of hunters and howls of hounds could be heard echoing, meaning that hunt was still on. And you could return home without your father seeing you here.
Alastor wrapped one hand around your back and gently laid you back on ground.
"I must beg your pardon. A lady such as yourself ought never to be deflowered in such a place for the first time." He said quietly against your soft breasts that were still raising and falling in short breaths.
"Oh, hush. I enjoyed myself very much so." You took a deep breath trying to steady your breathing. Alastor looked at you and you smiled at him. Gently running your hands through his hair in order to tame it.
Steadying himself on his hands, Alastor pulled out and couldn't help but to stare at your cunt that was already leaking his cum. Catching him staring, ought to teas him a little bit. Bending your legs you spread them open. Gaining Alastor's attention, you trailed one hand down your body and dipped your fingertips in your folds. Shyly looking to the side you spread your folds, making more cum leak out. Alastor was watching your hand like it was a prey.
"Darling-" Alastor warned as his lashes fluttered. He leaned to kiss your knee instead. Fighting so hard not to take your overstimulated body the second time.
"We should talk in the morning." Alastor got up with a sigh, tucked himself away and walked over to the fence to retrieve your dress.
You quietly got dressed, not questioning anything. You weren't sure what we're you to say in such moment. While you were getting dressed you couldn't help but stare as Alastor was putting on his shirt. His skin on the back scratched by your nails. Or how the fingers you had cut had smeared blood all over his body.
"Shall I escort you home?" Alastor turned to you.
"No. It's late, we both should be getting home and to bed. And besides, I know this field like back of my hand." You shook your head.
"Alright." Alastor tilted his head to the side and smiled. He walked up to you and gently took off his glasses from you.
"Not a scratch. Good girl." He praised you, leaning down to your eye level. Your cheeks immediately flushed red and you quickly pressed your lips against his.
As he watched you walk back home, you couldn't help the smile that was on your lips. The faithful butter knife clutched carefully in your hands, will be neatly stored in your vanity as a reminder.
Meanwhile Alastor was sitting on the fence, watching you walk away, with skip in your step. Once you were far enough, he hauled himself over the fance, back on the road. What you had not seen at the very beginning, was that Alastor had come with knive of his own. Quite menacing butcher knife, that he had wedged in the nearby tree.
You were almost home. You had just ducked through the fence and walked quietly across the yard when, one, so much differently sounding gunshot, made you turn back around and stare at the field where you had come from....
-----------
Part 2?
2K notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 2 months
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Hi Kacie!! Now that your requests are open... Could I request a smutty fic where Spencer finds out reader has a not-so-common sensitive spot (like her legs, hair, arms, whatever body part you want). Maybe he finds out kinda in a public setting after she gets all flustered and wants to keep pushing to test his theory?? You can take as much inspo from this as you want<3
(If this emoji's not taken)-💃 anon
A/N: Hello! Sorry for going MIA for a while there. It was the beginning of a new school year here in SK, so I've been really busy! I've been chipping away at this one little by little, and it's finally done! I hope you enjoy it ♡
Warnings; Smut, 18+ Minors DNI, case details, misogyny from a bartender in the opening scene, Semi-public sexual experimentation, edging, PinV sex, use of pet names (good girl), slight degradation, cum play, etc.
Masterlist
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The back of the bar was dimly lit as you walked through it, keeping pace with your teammate as you kept one eye on the shady inhabitants of the bar. 
You'd been sent - with Spencer of all people - to ask the local dive bar staff about suspicious regulars. A fact that didn't exactly take into account his general lack of intimidating looks and your status as the newest member of the team. 
A trial by fire if you'd ever seen one. 
You tried your best not to stick out like a sore thumb, but the people in these parts could spot a Fed from a mile away. And though Spencer was remarkably pipe-cleaner-like, they'd certainly recognised enough FBI in him to clam up upon your entrance. 
“We got some visitors, I see. What can I be getting you, little lady?” The barman greeted you as you reached the first stool at the counter, a patronizing smile on his moustache clad lips. 
“If it's okay, we'd like to ask you some questions. I'm Agent Y/N with the FBI. This is my partner, Doctor Spencer Reid.”
“You're a Fed? Now, why would you bother doing all that hard work when you could be warming my bed, girl. It's definitely more honest and satisfying work.” 
The way the man leered at you over the counter has you freezing momentarily. Your instincts were saying fight, but you held your tongue just long enough to not ruin any rapport your team could build with locals. 
“I'm flattered, but already spoken for I'm afraid. Have you seen any suspicious men in here in the last six months, one that would pass through only semi-regularly, maybe with a few female companions, though never the same.” 
Professionalism at the cost of your peace of mind was going to be a hard learn for you as you grit your teeth and swallowed the bile in your throat. 
He just continued to leer at you as he dried up beer glasses. 
“You're looking for a man who likes cheap whores? Maybe you are in the market for a career change after all.” 
That was about all you could take, and luckily, Spencer Reid was well aware. 
Quickly grabbing you by the wrist, he pulled you behind him defensively and leaned over the bar, his voice low and somewhat chilling. 
“Disrespect my partner like that again, and I'll have you charged with aiding and abetting a murderer who has kidnapped and ended the lives of three local girls. Local girls whose fathers you're more than likely acquainted with, who absolutely have multiple acres of property and just enough bullets to put you in the ground.” 
The blood rushed to your ears at his voice, but the light grip of your wrist held you in place indefinitely. 
All the fight left your body, as you found yourself coming dangerously close to melting into Spencer in relief. 
He forced the man to answer some more basic questions, but it wasn't as if you could hear them. He stroked a quick thumb back and forth across your wrist as all the thoughts fled your head, and the words fell asleep on your tongue, resting there until he released you from his grip. 
You'd known that the area was slightly sensitive for a while, having accidentally brushed up against things and felt serious chills shoot up your spine. What you hadn't known was that it was that kind of sensitivity. 
Though, in all honesty, you hadn't exactly known that you could feel that kind of excitement for Spencer either. You just hoped he wouldn't notice. That much. 
Having finished his line of questioning and reiterating his threat, he moved his hand from your wrist to the small of your back and adeptly guided you from the restaurant and out of the line of vision of every pair of eyes in the place. 
“Are you okay?” He asked when he finally got you to the car, voice still quiet and low, and slightly too close to let you fully relax. 
“Peachy. He talked to you at least.” You turned away from him and began opening the passenger side door. 
“Nothing new or useful, though. Your bpm is high,” he joined you in the car, putting on his seat belt while you completely let go of yours, letting it zip back into itself.
“My… my what?” 
“Your bpm is high. Your heart was beating so fast,” he said, reaching over you to help you reclip it. “Were you nervous, Y/n? Or just sensitive?”
“Your mouth is entirely too close to mine to be asking that question,” you breathed out, cursing your eyes from stealing a glance at his lips. 
Only five minutes into this sudden attraction to Spencer Reid, and you were already mortified and extremely horny. In equal measures. 
“What would be the appropriate distance to ask that, then?” 
“I hear Australia is lovely this time of year.” 
He chuckled softly at you as he finished adjusting your seat and then moved far enough away to let the ground swallow you in peace. 
Never one to leave well enough alone, it seemed that Spencer took it upon himself to experiment with you for weeks on end after that. 
He'd constantly ask you to pass him papers, pens, anything that'd allow him to run a finger across the inside of your wrist. On more than one occasion you'd caught him staring into your eyes as he did it, and it took a nearly embarrassing amount of time to realise he was checking how dilated your pupils were before and after. 
When he'd gathered enough data for that line of questioning, he moved on to bigger things. 
You knew you were in danger of seriously falling head over ads when he offered to walk you to your motel door in a seedier case location. 
You, an FBI agent with a real-life gun and badge and job at Quantico, and you were jumping at the chance to have a man walk you to your room. You'd have been embarrassed if you weren't burning with anticipation. 
You hoped that like every other man in history, he was gently trying to insinuate himself into your bedroom, and by extension, your bed and more intimate places. 
So you were more than slightly disappointed when he started wishing you a good night. All of the aforementioned disappointment fled your body, though, when he picked up your hand and dropped a kiss to the inside of your left wrist, repeating the action on the right before wordlessly retreating. 
You stared at his back as he walked purposefully down the corridor and into his own room, leaving you to pick up your jaw and retreat to your room to lick your wounds. 
You wished it was him picking you up instead and found your brain imagining just that as your fingers dropped between your thighs that night. 
It became a case tradition for him to tease you like this, kissing your wrist after innocently walking you back to your hotel room. The others thought it chivalrous, almost cute and childlike, a form of courting that graced the good old days. They didn't know he grabbed you by the waist and held you against his hard-on every time you rode an elevator together. They didn't know his tongue darted out a few times to lick your wrist on occasion. They didn't know how you once mentally begged him to bite you there and how you shuddered as he ran his teeth along the vein there. 
Spencer was coming to the crux of his research regarding how far he could push you before you cracked. Only now, it was how far he could get without pushing you against a wall and jumping your bones. 
You knew you were in danger when he offered to escort you home after a case. 
“To walk you to your door, you know? Like always,” he smiled at you, the picture of innocence as you became damp between your thighs. 
“Sure. Yeah, okay, I'll get my keys, let's go.” 
You weren't sure how no one else noticed that Spencer didn't have a car to drive himself home after taking you to yours. You were unsure if they'd connect the dots between him escorting you home and his own apartment being 45 minutes in the opposite direction. 
Luckily for you, you could keep your hands at 2 and 10 the entire journey, away from his grasp. If he'd have touched you right then, you're sure you'd have driven both of you right off the road into a ditch. 
Or a pedestrian. 
The drive was calm, but pulling up forced your heart to your throat and kept it suspended there, almost like it was frozen at gunpoint, a deer in the headlights. 
“We're here.” 
“Great. Let me walk you in.” 
In. You swallowed hard, wishing very much for him to be inside of your apartment. 
“Okay.” 
Stepping into the elevator a few minutes later, he waited mere seconds after the doors began closing to pull you into his personal space. He was hard, he was so hard once again and his cock was now straining against your ass.
“Spencer, we need to talk about t-that,” he stroked your wrist as his hand splayed across your stomach, holding you firmly against him. 
“About what, Y/N?” 
He pulled your arm up almost as if inspecting the wrist for imperfections, and your head melted back into his chest. Why was this elevator so goddamn slow? 
You sprung out quickly when the doors pinged open finally and moved straight towards your door without a glance back, but you felt him close behind you. 
“Y/N, wait for me, wait, I'm sorry,” he called out quietly as you forced your keys into the lock as fast as possible. 
“Y/N, I'm sorry if I stepped over the line, I didn't mean too, please look at me-” 
You got the door open and turned back around to grab a firm hold of his tie and yank him into the apartment behind you. 
“Months. Spencer, you have been edging me for months, and I am sick of it.” You half growled at him, slamming the door behind him and then pushing him up against it. 
“I can feel how hard you are right now. Obviously you want to fuck me, so why aren't you?” 
His face went from shocked to intrigued, then shot straight for mischievous as he cracked a smile, and you felt his hands wrap around your wrists slowly. 
Before you could react, he had your positions swapped, your arms above your head pinned at the wrists and his breath hitting your neck as he answered. 
“I wanted to see how long it would take you to break.” 
Your lips leapt to his, hitting him angrily as you searched for more pleasure in his touch, one leg pushing up to wrap around his waist as his hips settled between yours. 
He met you at your level, giving just as good as he got.   
“Call it scientific curiosity,” he murmured, lips trailing down your neck, but hips pinning you in closer to the wall, keeping you trapped there. He made his way along your shoulders and then pressed light teasing kisses up your arms while rutting his hips into you, dry humping you against the wall as your eyes glazed over in lust. 
“You react when I touch you, you heat up. But it gets worse if I touch you here, right Y/N?” His lips again found your wrist, but this time his teeth grazed across the veins he found there. 
“You get so horny now when I look at you. I can grab your wrist and make you beg for my cock, isn't that right?” His mouth was back by your ear as your legs went limp under you. He still had you caged against your own door, and you had no idea what to say to that. 
Part of you wanted to protest purely because of the rough tone of voice he was using. The other wanted to flood to the floor and tell him yes, beg him to just fuck you and be done with this pure torture. 
“I asked you a question, Y/N. Isn't that right?” 
“Yes, yes, Spencer fuck, I don't care anymore, yes. You can touch me and I'll react to you, please help me.”
“Good girl.” 
He pulled away instantly, but his hands wrapped firmly still around your wrists. Slowly, he pulled you towards him as he slowly walked backwards further into your apartment. You thought for a second about just throwing yourself back into his arms, to close the space he'd created again between the two of you. 
You tried it, lifted your head slightly, begging his lips to return there, but he held firm. Each step was an agony of need, and you fought to hold your tongue, begging yourself not to beg him so pathetically. 
“Such a good girl, I'm holding you by the wrist, and you won't even protest about how slow I'm being.” 
Your mouth fell open as you registered his words. 
“You're being an ass.” 
“What was that? You want me to touch your ass?”
“Spencer!”
“Don't worry, we'll get to that.”
His back finally made contact with your bedroom door, and you stumbled forward into his chest as he kept his grip even still. 
“You're going to listen, right? You're going to listen to me and do what I ask you to do, aren't you?”
You wavered again. He'd been teasing you, but now he was serious, his tone light and his voice soft, but you could feel the strength in his grip. You could feel his arousal at your hip. 
“Yes, Spencer.”
“Good. Get on your knees on the bed. No clothes.”
He released your hands and opened the door for you as you tried your best to walk forward calmly. 
By the time you reached the bed, you'd removed most of your clothes, but you hesitated at the underwear as he watched from behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder saw him palming his cock through his pants, still leaning against the door he'd opened for you. 
He was getting off watching you, and you were frozen in arousal. 
“No clothes, Y/N.” 
“I know.”
“Underwear is clothing.” 
“I know that, too, Spencer.”
“Then take it off.” 
You shot a quick glare over your shoulder as you unclaimed your bra behind your back and threw it to the floor. 
“On my knees, right?” You said, climbing on the bed still clad in your panties. 
“I also said no clothes.” 
“If you're so invested in my state of dress, how about you come and help me rectify it.”
His lips twitched in small annoyance, but he followed the trail of clothes you'd left, ridding himself of his tie, shirt, jacket, and pants along the way. 
He climbed on the bed slowly behind you, not opposite as you'd presumed he would. His hands reached out to touch your back before slowly sliding all the way up to your neck and pushing your upper body down into the sheets. 
You let out a little squeak in shock, but let his hands guide you, feeling especially pliant when he grabbed your hands and crossed them behind your back. 
“Maybe the panties can stay. I'll just decorate them afterwards,” he said, and with that, he pulled your hips up with his free hand  guiding you into the position he wanted you in, and pushed two fingers into you. 
“Fuck, Spencer-” your brain short circuited as he pumped the digits slowly in and out of you, setting an agonizing pace but holding you so tight that.you couldn't even press your cunt back into his fingers. 
“What? What is it, Y/N? Tell me how you feel?” 
“Feel good, so good Spencer, p-please more.” 
He shifted slowly behind you, pulling his fingers out almost completely before pushing them back in, this time with another finger added. He didn't quicken his pace as you assumed he would, but he took his time stretching you out further as you moaned and whined underneath him. 
“More. You wanted more,” he reminded you, and his voice was like a sharp hit straight to your cunt, rough and hot and filling you completely. 
You barely registered the orgasm that flowed over you, your brain replaying his words on a loop as he continued pleasuring you. 
“That's it. That's a good girl. Get my fingers nice and wet.” 
When you finally grounded yourself in the moment again, your cheeks flushed as you realized just how wet you'd gotten. You felt your arousal still dripping down your leg and turned your face further into the sheets to hide your embarrassment. 
He pulled his fingers out of you, though, and with his now free hand he crouched over you and hooked his fingers under your jaw lifting your head and body up, forcing your crotch back into his as your back arched. 
“Don't hide from this. Look how wet you are for me, Y/N. Taste it.” He tapped his fingers against your mouth and you were ashamed at how fast your lips dropped open, tongue falling out to let him wipe his cum stained fingers against your pretty little lips. 
You tasted yourself on his fingers, wrapping your tongue around them and sucking as he dragged his dick across your back, trying to relieve himself in any way he could. 
“Good girl. It's time for one more, Y/N.” 
You released his fingers with a wet pop as he pushed you back into the sheets. Lining himself up, he entered you easily, your cum providing ample lubricant. 
You whined at his first few pumps, certain he was going to continue his torturous pace and leave you begging for more hours into the night. 
Instead, he let himself work you up to it, each thrust gaining in speed and strength until you could hear the slap of your skin against his more vividly than your own heartbeat. 
His cock was thick, filling you perfectly as you lost yourself in the sensations. 
“One day, I'll handcuff you to this bed,” he said, leaning down and whispering in your ear as each part of your body vibrated with lust. 
“I'll tie you down to this bed, and I'll treat you like a princess. I'll eat your cunt for hours until you cum every time my breath hits your cunt, and I'll cover your pretty tits in my seed. I'll let you use my cock as your personal sex toy, and I'll fulfill every single need you have.” 
His hand released your wrists as both of his hands came to wrap around your waist, pushing you deeper into the plush covers and changing the angle of his dick. 
You screamed at the pleasure, forgetting the paper thin walls your apartment boasted. 
“Fuck, Spencer.” 
“And you're going to love every single second because your brain switches off every time I touch your delicate little wrists.”
With that, another wave of pleasure spread through your body, sending prolonged shivers throughout your body. 
You felt him withdraw and heard the sticky mess of him stroking himself behind you until he made good on his promise and sprayed his generous load across your ass and panties before collapsing on the bed next to you. 
The two of you laid there for what felt like hours, sharing nothing but your labored breaths and the space of the bed before he finally rose. 
You tried not to sleep, but your entire body felt stiff from the awkward, if enjoyable, position he'd held you in. 
Your eyes drifted shut, and you just listened to his movements. A creaking floorboard here, a stumble against some furniture there, culminating in some running water and a return to your space. 
“Y/N,” he whispered, cautious to rise you from what he assumed was much needed sleep. 
“Mmmm,” was all you could reply.
“I realize now that I made a pretty big mess, so we need to get you in the bath.” 
“Mmm,” you protested, brows furrowing as you tried to gather your sheets closer around you, cradling yourself in the warmth. 
But doing so only made you more aware of the sticky wet mess around your torso and legs, and you let out a small, frustrated sigh. 
“You're stubborn, you know that, right?” He said, admiration coating his tongue as he lifted you slowly and helped you place your feet on the floor and walk towards your bathroom. 
“Spencer, shouldn't have a bath, too sleepy.” 
“I know, I'm going to stay.”
“In the bath?” 
“In the bath.” 
“Good.”
And it was. You let him lift your legs one by one into the scorching water and melted back into him, your head resting on his shoulder as if it were the most comfortable pillow you'd ever used, and you slept. 
1K notes · View notes
hanjisick · 2 months
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Orders.
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genre. mafia au. bodyguard!lee know x fem!reader
desc. your father is an elite, high ranking official in a mafia family. after your first kidnapping, a bodyguard was hired to ensure your safety.
warnings. nsfw. fingering & sex. torture. kidnapping. murder. violence.
wc. 10k
✉️ : this is my first writing after a 9 month hiatus. i apologize for the unannounced break and i will be answering and writing again shortly. enjoy! :)
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You sit in a wooden chair, wheezing and thrashing from days of sleep deprivation and torment. Your body aches, wrists bruised and bloody from the ropes, and you almost feel like giving in and spilling Daddy’s secrets— allowing them to kill you and the family.
But you knew better than that. You knew that you'd be saved.
The gunshots and cries for help weren't unexpected from above the dark bunker.
With an ear-piercing creak, the door swings open and the shadow of a man emerges through the doorstep, shoes squeaking with fresh blood underneath.
He doesn’t let out a single word as he kneels to grab your face and examine it. Your attention follows the ring on his finger. An insignia that he is part of the family. You can depend on him.
But still, you wince, sharply inhaling as his fingers aggravate your wounds.
“Don’t get their blood in my wounds, I don’t know what kind of freaks they are,” You grumble, voice husky from days of screaming.
You let him turn your head, retaining eye contact with the floor as you grit your teeth.
“Relax,” he mumbles, “I don’t bite.”
He leans closer to examine your wounds. “You took a lot of hits. How many people are here?”
He draws back as you reply, “Can’t tell you exactly.”
“About four of them grabbed me while I was leaving the house— stupid on their part, no wonder you were here so shortly,” You trail off before catching yourself back on topic.
“But I’ve only seen three different men since I’ve been here. Only to beat me and interrogate me. Don’t worry, I didn’t say anything to put Daddy at risk.”
“I heard two other unrecognizable voices. That would make nine people in the building that I know of. Of course, there could always be more. How many did you shoot?”
“Six,” he responds before looking down at your scrapes and wounds again.
You feel him caress your cheek once more, his cold skin sending shivers down your spine.
“You’re in bad shape.”
“If there’s more here, we need to get out as soon as possible. We can worry about my wounds as soon as these people aren’t on our ass.”
You struggle in your bounds, the ropes burning your already bloody wrists, “Could you untie me, first?”
“Don’t move.”
You obey his command, halting as he unties the ropes, uncovering the painful burn marks and blisters.
“That fucking hurt,” you rotate your wrists, “I could’ve gotten out without your help eventually, though.” Your voice is rough, breath coming out in harsh, sharp drags.
“Sure, you would’ve.”
You stumble to your feet as he pulls you into him for safety. He reeks of gunpowder and high-dollar cologne— presumably something that Daddy has made sure that he has the money for.
“Stay close to me, when we get to the front, you go out first and then I’ll leave right after.”
You follow the unfamiliar man out of the maze, almost slipping on the floor blanketed in blood.
You adjust to the bright sunlight— and it feels gentle against your damaged skin. It seems like time has stood still while you were captured. “Did Daddy order you a car?”
“Yes,” he answers, “Some men are waiting out front to take us to the closest hospital— which isn’t too far.”
“I’m being hospitalized?” You follow him into the backseat, finally slacking for a moment ontop of the fresh leather.
“It’s not my choice to have you taken to the hospital, it’s the orders.”
“Do I have a statement to tell the nurse?” You look at him in concern.
“Am I supposed to say, ‘Oh, I was kidnapped by Daddy’s enemies! By the way, he’s in the mafia! Who wants to arrest Daddy?’”
“Tell them you fell down the stairs.” His flat tone contrasts your own, remaining unfazed.
“How would that cover up my wrists' burn marks?” You hold up the bloody and bruised dents, “Nobody gets these from falling down the stairs. There's way too much blood— and some of it isn’t even mine.”
He raises an eyebrow, looking over to the burn marks on your wrist and then back to you.
“Then tell them you accidentally burnt yourself while cooking.”
“Are you even listening to me? Are you stupid?”
He doesn’t respond for a moment, not seeming to care about the situation.
“It’s not hard to pay them to be silent.”
“How about I tell them that I was heavily bullied at school and a couple of classmates did this to me? I think that could work.”
You two arrive at the front entrance of the emergency room, he follows behind you, strolling through the automatic door.
“I’m fine, really, I was just beaten by classmates,” You lie through your teeth to the front desk, “My boyfriend took me here to get it checked out.”
He raises an eyebrow.
You comply with the nurses as they check your weight and interview you.
“I don’t have any stab wounds, at least I don’t think so— I don’t remember what they did to me. I was held captive for a few,” Your voice trails off as you wince at a sudden pang.
You glance down at your bleeding side and are unexpectedly whacked with all of the distress that you had been repressing at once.
Your vision starts to fade, face pale as a ghost.
The man rushes over as they carry you to a bed, and he kneels beside you to review your condition. Your body is pale and cold, breathing jagged and rapid.
You hear the whispers of the staff panicking. One nurse checks your pulse, and another elevates your legs.
“I need my blood sugar up,” the first words that come out of your mouth sound weak and painful.
You look over at the man beside you.
You need to lie. But you don’t even know his name.
“Boyfriend,” you determine, “please get me a sugary drink from the vending machine.”
A subtle smirk forms upon his lips, but it vanishes as soon as it appears.
“Fine,” he rises to his feet.
You hiss as the nurses sterilize your wounds, shrieking and thrashing on the mattress at the sting. You try to stay still, but the pain is intolerable.
Footsteps echo and you find the man returning with a chocolate bar, which he holds out to you. He brings it close to your lips and holds the chocolate against your mouth for you to take a bite, “Slowly.”
“I told you to get me a drink,” You disregard his command, biting the chocolate quickly, almost aggressively.
His lips turn up, amused by your action.
The nurses finish stitching up your deep gashes and bandaging your wounds, recommending that you stay the night.
“Pay for the bill with Daddy’s cash and let’s get out of here,” you state coldly, “I need to shower and get all of this blood out of my hair. I don’t want to stay here.”
“As long as you can walk by yourself, we can leave right away.” He replies. The man takes out a wad of bills quickly counts the money and pays for the bill.
You stay speechless until entering the car.
“Who are you?”
“I’m your bodyguard. Your father hired me to look out for you after the kidnapping.”
You nod in acknowledgment. “Will you be staying at the estate with me? Or is it a ‘only when I leave the house’ kind of deal?”
“My primary duty is to protect you from anyone or anything that could harm you, whether that be outside or inside the house. I could go wherever you wish me to follow you, and I will be there.”
“You won’t sleep in bed with me though, right?”
He stays silent for a moment.
“You are correct, I am here to protect, nothing more. I will not sleep next to you. I am merely your bodyguard and take your orders.”
“Good boy,” you grin, “I bet Daddy will pay you very nicely. Why else would you take this job? How much does he give you? Either way, I’m sure you have enough to buy a mansion.”
The bodyguard holds back an eye roll. “I will have more than enough money. Not only that but he also provides me with a home.” He adds with a smirk.
“Good.” You reply.
You fall silent, allowing him to drive, taking in the past few days.
You were never worried about surviving, You understood that Daddy would handle it. But you didn’t expect to be as hurt as you were.
He could’ve saved you sooner.
“When we get home, order the chef to make me something sweet, I deserve a treat,” you state, “I’m going to shower and you are not allowed to enter my bathroom under any circumstance. Even if I’m dying.”
“You would die before letting me enter your bathroom? I get it.” He retorts.
Once you both arrive at the estate, you stumble out of the car. You don’t linger for him.
You’re welcomed by a handful of workers as you enter the home, but ignore them as you make a beeline up the stairs and towards the bedroom.
The door locks behind you and the room is silent. You feel the weariness creep on as your wounds sting. You lean against the door, sliding down.
After a moment of peace, you head towards the shower to comb the dried blood out of your hair.
You scrub your face carefully, avoiding the stitches above your eyebrows.
You wash your body entirely, removing the blood stains with soap, water, and a wash rag. Then you comb out the dried blood.
Once you finish, you dry yourself off and dress in a plain, silk nightdress.
Leaving your bedroom, you turn to look for your guard. He is at the doorway of your room when you walk out. His eyes roam around your body for a brief moment, examining the nightgown.
“Do you require assistance?”
“Did you place an order for something sweet, like I asked?” You peer at his suit, moving in to adjust his tie.
He follows your hand as it moves, eyeing you for a few moments before he utters, “I did, the chef will be bringing it to your room once it’s prepared.”
“Good boy.”
You look up at his face once you are pleased with the positioning. You grimace at his sharp, cold face. The blood was dried, brown, and unpleasing. The man’s hand relaxes on the gun holstered on his hip.
“I order you to come into my bedroom.”
His eyebrows crease. He understands his role as your bodyguard— nonetheless, he doesn’t get a kick out of being ordered around in this tone.
He takes a deep breath. “Your wish is my command.”
The room is massive, a silk-covered canopy bed sits in the center of it. He pays no mind to looking around, concentrating on the job at hand.
“Sit down on my bed,” you demand, steering towards the bathroom and pushing open the double doors.
He obeys your orders without question, crossing his legs, and keeping his hand resting beside his gun.
The bodyguard keeps a close, attentive eye on the doors, supervising the way that you soak a washrag with warm water, squeezing out the excess.
You sit beside him, grabbing his chin and leaning into his face. He tenses.
“Relax, I don’t bite,” you smirk, reiterating his first words from the moment he met you back to him, massaging the dried blood off of his face, “No guard of mine will have a messy appearance.”
You can tell that he feels uneasy, but he can’t reject you. If you wish for him to relax, he will make an effort to relax.
You can’t help but notice his complexion when he isn’t scowling. The apathy melts away as you wipe the dried blood, giving you a new perspective on his appearance.
“You’re handsome,” you state bluntly, “Especially without blood covering your face.”
You toss the rag into the laundry basket carelessly, waiting for a maid to take care of it.
“Thank you.”
“What is your name? You never told me.”
His eyebrows arch slightly at the question.“It’s Minho.”
“I am Y/N,” You reply, holding out your hand to shake his own. His grip is firm and warm.
He keeps a stoic face as he glances at your face and back at your hand, as if he is searching for an ulterior motive behind this handshake.
The food.
The bell rings and the sound of it shatters the stillness of the room. Minho’s head jolts towards the door, hand back on his gun.
He rises instantly, opening it to reveal the maid with a tray of sweet snacks.
He takes it from her. “I will bring it in.”
“What a good boy, Minho,” you praise, clapping your hands together as he sets the tray on your lap.
“I don’t take you for a man who enjoys sweet food much. Do you like sweets?”
“Sometimes.”
You unwrap a piece of high-dollar chocolate, “I command you to open your mouth.”
Minho can’t deny you, it would be disobeying your orders.
He opens his mouth as the chocolate is positioned between his lips.
You relish in the chocolates with Minho and once finished, you set the tray on the floor for a maid to pick up at sunrise.
“I don’t think I mind you being around all that much, Daddy makes good decisions.” You lay down on the mattress.
“Your father does make good decisions.”
His gaze wavered on your face until you drifted off to sleep. Only then did they slowly trail down to your body.
The way your body was built captivated him. Minho was glued to your sleeping form.
He stayed in the room, taking a seat on a chair in the corner to watch you.
He didn’t know how long it had been since you had dozed off, but by the way that the room was now pitch black and noiseless aside from your figure rising and falling, he would imagine that it had been a couple of hours.
“How long are you going to sit there?” Your sleep-filled voice questions him, causing him to snap out of his daze, hand reaching for his gun out of instinct.
“Do you sleep? Are you allowed to sleep?”
“I will only remain in the room as long as you order me to. I do sleep,” He replies, “Now is there anything else you need my assistance with? Or can I return to my duties?”
“So you’re only staying in the room because I ordered you two hours ago?” There’s a tinge of dismay in your voice, but it was masked by sleep, “You can leave if you want, I don’t mind.”
Minho felt a sudden pit in his stomach. You sounded disappointed by his statement.
Your words are perplexing him, and he can’t conclude what you want from him. To stay or to go?
“Should I stay for a bit longer?”
You were already asleep again once he had responded.
You and Minho both wake to a maid opening the blinds and ringing a bell. You groan, stretching your body.
“Miss, let’s get you dressed for today.”
She pulls your nightgown up above your head as Minho’s eyes wander toward your laced underwear.
“What’s on my schedule for today?”
He quickly forces his gaze to look away and stares back at the maid.
“We want you to heal from your injuries, miss,” she answers, “we will start with a nutritious breakfast to encourage recovery, and attend to your injuries, and then you will speak with Daddy about your incident.”
The maid buttons your fitted dress, glancing in Minho’s direction, “Your bodyguard will need to be there for your conversation with Daddy.”
“He will?”
“He needs to tell Daddy what he witnessed from the facility.”
You nod, following her lead down the stairs and towards the breakfast table.
Minho follows suit, remaining at your side the entire time and he watches you eat, staying observant and cautious.
“Are you hungry?”
This question catches Minho off guard.
“No.” He adds in a dull tone— but in actuality, he is starving. He was entrusted to watch over you. He shouldn’t eat on the clock.
“Maid, go order,” You look Minho up and down, “A side of crepes. Blueberry crepes. And two cups of coffee.”
The maid hurries to the kitchen to place the order, and it is brought out a couple of minutes later.
He stares at the crepes being placed on the table, and his belly grumbles. “Thank you.”
The maid carries the mugs of coffee to the table. But it doesn’t take Minho long to catch sight of her cunning smile and the perplexing liquid that the maid slipped into the mugs of coffee.
He stares quietly, calculating his next action.
“Don’t drink it.”
“Why not?”
Minho’s sight narrows as you bring the cup of coffee to your lips.
This time, his tone is warning and direct. “It’s better that you don’t.”
You halt your sip at his harsh command.
The maid pulls out a handgun swiftly after realizing that she has been caught, aiming it at you.
A switch swiftly flips inside of him.
He lunges forward, grabbing the woman’s wrist and twisting the gun to the right, snapping a couple of fingers in the process.
It’s a rapid movement, and he had little time to think before shooting her in the head, watching the life leave her body. His face is apathetic and almost casual.
The maid’s blood spilled onto the floor as the others ran to clean it up.
“He passed the test, we can keep him. A promising guard so far,” Daddy compliments from behind you, “Urgently acting to protect. He knew that she was mindless and weak. He comprehends crises well.”
The older man slips a wad of cash into the breast pocket of Minho’s suit. “Good on protecting her. That was a setup with a stupid maid who was just aching to betray us. You will have the same fate if you are wavered by another team.”
“I think he’s a good boy. He won’t betray me.”
“Y/N, meet me at my office. Guard, follow her.” He swiftly turns away to lead the two of you as you eye Minho.
“You can relax now. No more tests.”
He nods in understanding, heeding silently towards the office.
“Tell me about what you saw at the facility.”
You nod. “Four men had taken me from our garden entrance and used Chloroform to knock me unconscious. I woke up in their van, where my hands and legs were tied. I heard them talking about what they planned to get out of me. They had intentions of murdering me if they got to a week of no answers.”
Minho listens to your explanation with hawk-like eyes, paying close attention to all the details and descriptions.
You clear your throat, running your fingers across your bruised wrist, “I was tied to a chair in their questioning room, and they used forms of torture for me to open up.”
“I was deprived of sleep and beaten if they caught me closing my eyes— trying to get my lack of sleep to cause me to open up about your activities.”
Daddy nodded solemnly, leaning into his chair.
“Waterboarding was their favorite method, but they enjoyed beating me. I assume that was mainly for fun.”
You continued, “Minho appeared and killed a couple of them and saved me, but most are still alive.”
“Still alive? You didn’t find and kill them, bodyguard, why?” Daddy’s intense eyes moved toward Minho, who appeared unbothered.
The fact that he missed a few guys is enough to drive him crazy.
“I had to get her to safety as soon as possible.”
Daddy merely nods. “I will send my men after them. Y/N, did you get any names?���
“They wouldn’t tell me anything about themselves, but I saw a couple of signs of their rival gang.”
“Guard,” he veered towards Minho, “Describe the faces that you saw. I need as much information as possible.”
“They look to be between the ages of 20 to 30, their faces covered in scars. One man had dark skin, and his facial scars were faded. His most notable feature was a slit across his brow. He wore a dark suit. I left him alive but with a bullet in his arm. The other man had a lighter skin tone and his scars were similar to knife wounds. He had gotten away.”
The boss nods.
“Good. I can work with that. Never let my little girl get into trouble like that again, alright?”
The second the words ‘my little girl’ leave his mouth, Minho can’t help but gaze at you. He observes your reactions and motions.
His heart beats by hearing his boss call you that, and his attention is now focused on every single twitch that you make.
“The nurses will be waiting in her bedroom shortly. Be good and do as they say.” He adds, snapping Minho back to him.
“Guard, do not let her go against any of the nurses' rules. She can be convincing. Do not give into it.”
“Yes Sir.”
You roll your eyes, turning away to leave the room.
“Stay safe.” That is the last utterance of the boss before you drag Minho out of the room and towards the bedroom.
“Sit on the bed,” a nurse commands you, and you quickly obey.
She dabs at your abdomen stitches with antiseptic soap and your eyebrows furrow.
“You can’t move around much, got it? No exercising for three weeks until we get these stitches out.”
You agree as she moves on to your wrists, rubbing cream into them, “You’re going to visit us twice a day for six days until the healing is almost complete.”
She yanks a bandage off of your face, causing you to groan in pain. She rubs another ointment on it before substituting it with fresh dressing.
Minho supervises each step that the nurse takes, noticing how she takes care of your body as if it’s her most precious gift.
She turns to Minho, “I need you to make sure that she’s well rested, drinking enough water, and not doing many straining activities. Take her back here once again in the evening, and then we will see her again this time tomorrow morning, got it?”
“Yes, I will take care of her.”
“What about him, nurse?” You eye the small cuts across his face and hands.
She smiles and leans over to you. “He is well trained. Trust me, he’ll survive a few scratches.”
Your eyes narrow. “I order you to treat his wounds to the best of your abilities.”
She sighs. “Yes ma’am.”
She moves towards Minho and checks his wounds, patching the ones that were newly caused. She brushes his face softly with an ointment.
“I don’t like it when my guards don’t keep up a good appearance,” you try to explain away your worry for him, “and being injured will only slow you down when protecting me.”
The man stares straight ahead, listening carefully. “I’m fine. I’ll recover just fine. I don’t need much care as you do.”
“Let her rest now,” the nurse tells Minho, “order the maids to bring her a glass of water and have her sip on it until lunchtime.”
Once she leaves, Minho turns towards you, “I’ll make sure the maids bring you water. You need to stay hydrated”
Once water is on your table, your gaze returns to Minho
“Now, I order you to sit down on my bed with me.”
He examines you with a neutral expression and waits for you to say what you mean, not wishing to assume or take anything wrongly.
“Sit down with me,” you demand again, patting the spot beside you, waiting for him to follow suit.
As soon as you ask him to, Minho does not waver. He sits down beside you, body brushing your own.
You turn to meet his cold expression with intensity. “Do you like your job so far?
Minho is taken off guard by your switch of topic. He stays where he is sitting, but turns his body as well and faces you.
“I enjoy my duties.”
“Good. Because I’m fond of you. You’re handsome, and you are good at your job.”
He stares at you with slight surprise. “Thank you.”
Your hands grab for his, playing with the ring on his finger.
Then, you reach your hands higher, tugging his sleeve up to reveal a cluster of scars littered across his forearm.
“How long have you been in the business?”
“Since I was fourteen. I was trained from a very young age.”
“Have you always been in Daddy’s family?”
“I was loyal to your Daddy from the moment I knew what this life was like. I haven’t had a moment of doubt.”
“Good. That means you won’t leave us, right?”
“I will serve your family until my last breath. You have nothing to fear about that.”
“What a good boy,” you reach to ruffle his hair, landing a swift kiss on his sliced cheek. “That’s exactly what I like to hear.”
Minho stiffens.
“I order you to take off your jacket. I want to see your body. To see if you’re strong enough to be a good guard.”
Your words are sharp as a knife and they cut deep through his defense system. His jaw clamps and his breathing accelerates.
Minho swallows his breath, nodding his head. His movements are rigid, starting to cautiously peel off his jacket. It takes him a moment to unbutton it, but once his jacket is off, he stays there, waiting.
You slide his jacket to the floor, touching the muscles of his bicep through his button-down. “You’re fit. That’s good.”
Minho yearns for you to keep feeling him. To keep praising him. He swallows. Your words sound like a honey trap to him, and it’s working as intended.
“I order you to take off your tie.”
“Yes.”
That is all that he says, slowly slipping his tie from underneath his collar and tossing it aside.
Unexpectedly, you’re climbing on top of his body. “Take off your button-down.”
He unbuttons his shirt as your eyes sear into his chest. He is now only wearing a black undershirt.
“So many clothes,” you sigh out, groping his bare arms. You run your hands across his biceps, listening to him shudder underneath the touch.
“Take off your undershirt now. I want to see your chest.”
You can feel the heat radiating off him as he shivers. His body is now sensitive, and your hands are making it worse for him.
Your orders are evident, and he hastily lifts off his undershirt, waiting for what is next.
You can see his whole chest with all of its blemishes, with every muscle covered in sweat, exposed for you.
Your hands travel down his chest and abdomen, feeling each ragged scar with your bruised fingers. The delicate contact causes his breath to catch and a soft groan leaves him, fighting to not show that he relishes in your touch.
“Let me kiss you.”
He stares at you for a moment before his eyebrows slightly shift— his way of showing you that he approves of that request.
Minho leans in slightly and closes his eyes, gently placing a timid kiss on your lips.
You smirk against him, pushing him to lie against the bed frame and deepening the kiss. Your hands reach for his dark hair, clasping a handful in your grip.
He kisses you deeply and wraps his arms around you to pull you in closer, offering full control to you. His breath speeds up.
You pull away after a moment, lips brushing against his as you catch your breath, but only for an instant before moving towards his jaw, sucking marks onto his skin.
Minho quivers at your touch, his breathing speeding up once more as you leave red and purple blemishes on his skin. He bites his lip to stop himself from groaning.
Your mouth moves from his jaw to his neck, leaving kisses and hickeys all across him, making sure that he is covered in them.
Your hips grind against him, breathing heavily with anticipation as you make your way to his chest.
Your hands and mouth are touching all of him, and each sensation triggers a reaction that he tries to conceal.
Your lips hover back to his lips, staring at him longingly. “Do I have to command you for you to do anything to me? You don’t have to ask. You have my permission. Do whatever you want.”
You can see his gaze shifting from your eyes to your mouth, to your neck, and then towards your chest.
You swiftly lift yourself off of him to let him remove your dress, leaving your body as bare as his own.
You grasp onto his neck, bringing him in for another deep kiss. Minho remains silent as he kisses you, allowing you to leave him as many marks as you desire.
“What are you thinking, Minho? Speak to me.”
He takes a moment, letting out an unstable breath. “I’m thinking of what you are doing to me. I,” he stammers, “I want to make you feel good.”
“Then do it. Please.”
“I don’t want to harm you,” he breathes out, “you’re injured.”
“The nurses said to not do,” Minho presses his eyes shut as you bring your hips up to meet his, “fuck, anything straining.”
“Remember what Daddy said? I can be convincing.” You sneer as your bodyguard fails to keep his cool composure, but the aching cock pressing into you is giving his true desires away.
You eye his internal struggle between following your orders and his cravings, or the nurse and his boss.
“I don’t want to hurt you. I can go relieve myself in the bathroom.”
“I like being hurt.”
You notice his lip twitch at the comment, and you decide to provoke him further, grinding into him, and set a steady rhythm with your hips.
He groans as his head drops back, tugging onto your hair and trying desperately to control his breath, “Please, Y/N, I just want to take care of you.”
“You can take care of me in another way.”
“I need to follow orders.”
“Then I order you to fuck me.”
His eyes pinch shut as he tries to clear his head and reason with himself.
Perhaps if he were gentle, it would be alright.
But how long could he remain gentle when you were splayed out in front of him, willing to take anything that he gave to you?
He made his decision, gripping your shoulders gently and flipping you, pinning you to the bed, and surveying your face for any discomfort.
When he finds none, he impatiently unclasps his belt, throwing it to the floor along with his dress pants, leaving him in just his boxers.
You hold yourself up by your elbows, thighs pressed together and mouth watering at the man in front of you.
His hands were delicate, although they could easily snap you in half, as he unclasped your bra, leaving your top half bare.
Minho stopped to take in the view for a moment before grabbing at one of your breasts, his mouth attaching to the other.
Your whines were like music to him— something that he wanted to hear more of.
Your back arched in pleasure as he moved one hand down to your thigh, caressing it for a moment before slowly slipping his hand into your panties.
“Try to stay quiet, darling, I don’t want any staff checking on us,” He hushed you with his lips attaching to your own once again, feeling your wetness all over his calloused hands.
His thumb brushed against your clit and you whimpered into his mouth, clenching around nothing.
Minho then plunged two fingers deep inside of you and curled them. He was becoming lost in pleasing you, overlooking his own ache between his legs.
Your thighs shook beneath him, feeling him brush against your g-spot brutally. “Minho please, please just fuck me. I want you inside of me so bad.”
At your request, he slipped his fingers out, feeling your cries against his lips from the loss of friction.
“Yes ma’am.” He pulled away from your lips, replacing them with his now dripping fingers, lapping it up with his tongue.
Next, your ruined panties were yanked off of you, with his boxers soon to come after.
One hand gently relaxes on your hips, cautious to avoid aggravating your injuries as he uses the other to guide himself inside of you, a deep groan followed by your whines.
He gives you a moment to handle the stretch, but you hardly need it, already begging for him to move.
Minho cautiously thrusts, taking in a deep breath and furrowing his eyebrows in concentration. 
This is the ultimate test of patience for him. He needs to be as gentle as possible with you.
Ultimately, he sets a slow pace, hands locating themselves on either side of you, letting out uneven breaths as he tries to control himself from how good you feel around him.
“You really do care, don’t you?” Your hand reaches to cup his face, gazing into his eyes that are hazy with pleasure.
He keeps his response short, too concentrated on the waves of bliss through each thrust, “I do care.”
“Is it because you’re my bodyguard or something more?”
You study him, watching his adam’s apple move as he swallows deeply, inhaling sharply. He halts his thrusts for a brief instant.
“Both, maybe. I can’t tell.”
That was enough for you to continue, grabbing another handful of his hair and bringing him in for another hungry, deep kiss.
With each deep thrust, Minho’s mind got hazier and hazier, losing himself to pleasure bit by bit. You could feel it by the way his rhythm became rough and desperate, and his pace picked up.
One of his hands left your side, creeping towards your throbbing clit, causing you to let out sobs, all of which he ate up with his mouth against your own.
“Are you gonna cum for me?” He coos, knowing that you’re too lost in bliss to respond.
He takes your whines as a ‘yes’, his thumb rubbing circles faster, coaxing your orgasm out of you.
Your walls fluttered around him, squeezing your eyes closed and letting out a lengthy, drawn-out moan as his pace picked up even further.
“Just like that. You’re so good for me, so, so good, fuck,” he talked you through your orgasm between his thrusts, chasing his own high.
His brows crease, hips stuttering at how good it felt to have you gripping so tightly onto his cock. Finally, he let go, his load spilling inside of you and seeping out.
Both of you took an instant to catch your breath, coming down from your highs.
His hands slowly traced your curves in contentment, paying attention to the way your chest rose and fell.
Finally, he has a justification to gape at your body up close.
From your jawline to your hickey-covered chest, down to your bruised sides and stitches near your abdomen, and— Oh fuck.
Your wounds.
Minho slowly pulls away, feeling a sense of post-nut clarity and fright.
His hand slides away from your body, staring at you with concern.
“What’s wrong?” You ask, your own anxiety suddenly displayed on your face, “Do you regret it?”
“No! No,” He panics, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?“
Back in reality now, your wounds ache and your head pounds with exhaustion and overexertion.
His mind calculates the solutions to the situation— ways to explain to the nurses, to fix you, to help you feel better.
It was his shortcoming, after all. He let his urges get to him.
“Let’s run you a bath.” He pulls himself up, tugging on his boxers and heading towards the bathroom.
You hear the tap turn on, lying in bed trying to catch your breath. Your breath is harsh from both adrenaline and pain, but you can’t help but feel as though the latter is more of the cause.
You had slept with a small handful of men, primarily Daddy’s men, but none of them were quite like Minho.
He was tough but breakable. He was still kindhearted at his core— something that wasn’t all that common in the business.
You could tell from the way that he ran the bath, bare muscles glistening from sweat, running his hand through the water to make sure that it was the ideal temperature. How concerned he was about your protection, even through his pleasure.
Not many other men that you’ve met throughout your life have been the same way.
You’re quite fond of the man that you have just met.
You hear the water shut off and footsteps coming towards the room. He holds a faint smile as his steps come towards the bed. Your gaze slowly wanders to his physique.
“It’s ready for you.” He says in a slight whisper.
“I order you to pick me up and bring me to the bath.”
He nods at your order, hooking his arms underneath your thighs and back, his strong grip securing you.
You inhale the powerful stench of gunpowder stuck to his skin, finding comfort in your bodyguard’s presence.
“Will you wash my hair?”
Studying his expression, it’s hard to read, but you let him carry you and place you into the water.
‘I do care,’ you recall his words.
‘Is it because you’re my bodyguard or something more?’ ‘Both, maybe. I can’t tell.’
Perhaps you had feelings for the man, especially while he massaged shampoo into your scalp with tough hands, making sure to rub your temples.
“Have you ever been a bodyguard before?”
When Minho hears your question, he hums while he proceeds to wash you, working on scrubbing the areas where he touched you earlier. “No, you’re the first one I’ve been a bodyguard for.”
“I did things for your father before this. Not as a bodyguard, a more, I guess, dangerous role,” he dismisses the question.
“Is that so?” You fall to silence as he continues to wash you, taking his time and guaranteeing that he gets every part. He hesitates when he washes around your injuries— every stroke and movement of his hands is smooth and temperate.
“Let me relax for a minute alone,” you murmur, “You should put your clothes back on, the maids should be here any moment to take my order for lunch. They won’t find it suspicious that I’m bathing, but they will question why you’re with me.”
Minho nods and pulls away from your body.
He stands up and his feet splash on the wet floor. He takes a double take at your closed eyes.
The way your body floats in the bath is something that catches his attention. You look very pleasing in such a vulnerable position.
He leaves the room, cracking the door to make sure that you are safe.
Minho buttons up his wrinkled shirt, pulling the jacket over it and smoothing it out to ensure that nobody suspects anything.
Minho’s eyes turn to the maid who enters the room with the ring of a bell.
His demeanor is unfazed, a hand on the gun in his pocket once more. He holds eye contact, his stare intense.
He would make sure that there wasn’t another incident.
“Where is Miss Y/N?”
“She is bathing at the moment.”
She nods, walking towards the bathroom and knocking on the door.
You hum, allowing her to enter.
“What would you like for lunch, ma’am?”
“I don’t know, surprise me.”
A few seconds go by as you immerse yourself entirely in the water before rising back to the surface.
“Minho,” you call out, “What would you like?”
You hear the faint sigh that Minho gives as a response back to your question.
“I’ll just have a sandwich or something, whatever you have is fine.” He replies to both you and the maid as she exits the bathroom, fulfilling her duty of reporting your lunch choice.
The bedroom door shuts behind her.
“Minho!” You call out once again, “I order you to take me out of the bath.”
A few seconds pass before you hear Minho’s footsteps come near the bathroom once again. He grabs a towel as you stand, body bare and dripping with water.
His eyes have an intense focus as he reaches out his hand.
Minho pulls you up from the bath wraps the towel around you, making sure to cover all of you, and begins to dry off your hair.
“Minho,” you begin, “Daddy can’t know about what happened. He’d shoot you dead on the spot.”
Minho pauses for a moment, his eyes darting across the floor.
He is silent for a moment. “I won’t reveal anything to him.”
“Good boy,” you cling to the towel covering your body, “Go fetch a maid to dress me. While she does so, I want you to change out of that suit and shower before lunch.”
“Then I’ll go shower now. I’ll be back.”
You hum in agreement, stepping towards your bedroom as a maid rings the bell.
You drop your towel, letting her sift through your drawers to find decent clothing.
She eyes a hickey on your breast, along with the other injuries across your body from the kidnapping.
“Your injuries look agitated, Miss Y/N, are you sure that a bath was the best idea for you?”
“Don’t question me,” you grumble, “I took a bath because I wanted to.”
“Yes, miss.” She pulls the dress above your head smoothes it out, and clasps a necklace behind your neck.
“You’re all set for lunch.”
The moment that you come out of your room, you can feel his presence. He is leaning against the front door of the room with an unreadable expression.
He has another suit on, a fresh one. Minho’s previously muskier, dark scent has been replaced by a new, sweeter fragrance.
“First shower at the estate?” You question, “Our soaps are quite lovely and mild on the skin. You smell wonderful.”
Minho’s lips curl at the compliment, looking you up and down, “Seems that we both are putting our best foot forward.”
You look around to see if anyone is watching before leaning to ruffle his damp hair and leave a kiss on his cheek, taking the man by complete surprise. He makes an effort to regain his composure, but you can see that his cheeks are blushed from the touch.
As soon as you lean in to lock arms, you feel him lean over to you to whisper something.
“I would love to do that with you again.”
You froze in your spot, heat rushing to your thighs.
You must regain your composure, caught off guard by his blunt words, something unlike the ordinary nature of Minho.
He takes a seat across from you, watching every move that the maid makes to be sure that she doesn’t try anything— he has learned his lesson.
“Pressed Italian Picnic Sandwiches and tea,” The maid states, setting the plates on the table.
You scrunch my nose up. “What’s in it?”
“Artisanal prosciutto, aged provolone, and sun-dried tomatoes inside of a crusty ciabatta,” She doesn’t hesitate to list the ingredients, “and a fragrant blend of rare loose-leaf teas with fresh cream and sugar cubes.”
She sets the teapot and cups out, along with a carton of cream and a bowl of sugar cubes.
Minho’s hand rests on his gun, waiting for her to leave before taking a sip of tea.
You follow his action, dumping a couple of cubes into your tea and bringing it to your lips.
I finish my lunch with Minho.
“Let’s go back to my room now. I'm exhausted.”
Minho nods his head and you both finish up the meals quickly.
You both leave the dining area and stroll back to your bedroom.
As soon as you get back into the room, you feel Minho close the door behind you.
You don’t hesitate to climb into bed and lie down.
The guard looks over at you, observing the way that your chest rises and falls as you breathe. He notices every movement that your body is making.
“I command you to lay down with me.” You lean back against the bed, your body still and eyes focused on his unmoving body.
He slips off his shoes silently, slipping into the canopy bed.
You grin, curling at his side, pressing against his body.
His breathing is deep and steady as he struggles to get into a more comfortable position.
Your mind began racing with questions about the mysterious man that you were slowly falling for, burying yourself further into the sheets.
“Minho,” you start slowly, “How did you become tangled with our family?”
Minho stays silent for a few moments and you feel his body shift a little against yours.
“I didn’t have a lot of money or family growing up,” he kept his answer short and simply, “the moment that this job came my way, I took it. The people connected to this business have always stayed on the down low, so this is an easy job to keep."
“Daddy seems to like you,” you grit your teeth.
Minho turns to you on the bed and sits up a little. He looks at you from top to bottom, reading the worry on your face with ease.
“You don’t have to worry about me.”
“He will kill you on the spot if he finds out. He’s done that to almost every man who has flirted or slept with me.”
You pause for a moment. “God forbid the one he hired as my bodyguard.”
“I am not so easily killed.” The words leave his mouth with a tinge of arrogance.
“I trust you.”
“Good.”
There is stillness between you both for a time, but he breaks it by grabbing your chin and leaning in to kiss you. You soothe into his touch, smiling against his lips briefly before he pulls away.
“I order you to stay here. Like this.”
It’s not difficult for you to drift off to sleep beside him, and as always, Minho pursues your request, keeping a close eye on you. You relax, your breathing slow, and he notes all of the occasional twitches and movements that you make in your sleep.
A couple of hours later, the door is knocked on by a maid.
“Dinner order?”
Minho jolts awake from the knock on the door, a hand swiftly placed on your shoulder to protect you from any threats before turning his head towards the noise.
His voice is full of sleep. “Repeat that?”
As she opens the door, there is a look of inquiry on her face, one that she won’t ask to ensure her job and health.
“Is she asleep?” She questions instead, glancing over at your peaceful figure.
He turns his head towards you to double-check, observing your napping body.
“Yes.”
“Alright. I’ll advise the chef to prepare her dinner later tonight.”
She gives a sharp nod to the guard and scurries out of the room, quietly shutting the door to not disturb the girl.
Minho’s eyes rest on the door for a moment, fully alert now with a hand resting on his gun.
Eventually, he turns over to you. He has his eyes on you for a few seconds before leaning down to kiss you on the forehead, letting out a small sigh.
You stir at the warm touch, scrunching your face up and stretching your body.
“What time is it?” You ask groggily before burying your head into his neck.
“Dinner is in about half an hour. You hungry?”
“Not really,” you pull yourself up and rub your sleep-filled eyes.
He notices your body shiver as you pull yourself up. Minho lets out a short exhale.
“Did you sleep?”
“A bit.” He doesn’t look away or turn his head as he admires the way you stand and stretch your body, smoothing your dress of its wrinkles.
You walk towards your vanity mirror, plopping down in the chair to readjust your necklace to the center. A few marks on your collarbone catch your eye.
“The nurses will be in shortly.” You grit your teeth. “I hope they don’t notice.”
“They won’t notice.”
His figure can be seen from behind you in the reflection of the mirror. His lips are turned upwards as he watches you fix your appearance.
You pull out a couple of foundations and concealers, working on concealing the marks left from earlier.
“The maids wouldn’t, but the nurses will tell the difference between a hickey and a bruise. Especially since these are fresh.”
Even though you are busy with your makeup and covering up the bruises, Minho’s eyes are never off of you. It is a feeling that you will have to get used to— always having a watchful eye on you.
Once you were satisfied with the coverage, you rose from your seat quickly.
“Get up, we’re going to dinner.”
“So bossy.” He retorts. “What will you have?”
“I want to go out, let’s go somewhere fancy. Daddy will pay.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You want to go out when you have had a beating just two days ago?”
He asks it like he thinks it’s an absurd idea, almost condescendingly, yet his tone of voice is soft and full of concern for you, causing your stomach to flip inside out.
“I’m tired of staying inside already. This estate is suffocating,” you pull on your slip-on shoes.
“That’s how I got myself into this mess in the first place. I left the house and got kidnapped. That won’t happen with you here.”
“I guess you’re right. We’ll go somewhere nice.”
“Good. I’ll go tell Daddy.” You leave the door open for Minho to come after but don’t wait for him, yet you can tell that he follows behind silently, attending to the way your body moves in the dress as you make your way down the halls.
The door is slightly ajar, so when you knock, it pushes open with a creak, revealing your father inside.
Minho stands behind you like a shadow, his lips pressed into a straight line, gaze locked on your father, keeping his distance from the both of you.
“Come inside,” the older man invites both of them with a welcoming grin, “sit.”
You can sense that your father has something on his mind, which is never a good sign.
“I was going to call you to my office shortly, anyway.” Instantly you assume the worst.
You sit down, taking a seat in front of him. Minho is still standing in the back, his priority on you and your father.
The man looks over at Minho. Their eyes lock for a moment. “Guard, go lock the door. There is a conversation that needs to be had.”
Minho nods and he turns his head, locking the door behind him.
He turns his attention back to you, who is frozen in your seat, breath hitching.
The elite man fiddles with a pen at his desk, clicking it to drown out the tense silence.
The silence in the room seems so heavy that you wonder how neither you nor Minho is feeling sick. Judging by the thick atmosphere between the three of you, it is easy to tell that he isn’t pleased right now.
He fidgets with the pen and you wait for him to finally speak.
“Do you find my daughter to be precious, Guard?” He addresses Minho with a stern voice, finally setting the pen down at his wooden desk with a smack.
“Yes sir,” Minho replies flatly.
“Are you willing to protect her at all costs, even at your life?”
After moments of silence, he answers back confidently. “Yes sir. I am.”
A hand comes to rest at his side, toying loudly with a handgun, which he eventually pulls out of his pocket.
Tears begin to well up in your eyes, yet Minho stays concentrated. There isn’t a single sign of fear on his face. He is unshaken, calm, and collected as if he had been foreseeing this exact scenario.
“Do you know why you were assigned to guard my daughter, Minho?”
“I know the reasons.”
“There was a leak to the rivals from a previous staff member that I had a precious daughter in my life,” He turns towards you, “the one that I had climbed to the top of my career to protect and assure her safety and security.”
He cleared his throat before darting back to Minho, “It took less than a day for her to be taken from my hands and placed in the hands of one of my greatest enemies.”
Minho pays attention to every word that he speaks and clears his throat, waiting for your father to continue.
“I care for my daughter more than anything in the world. Which is why I had appointed the most valuable, honest, and competent man in the family to ensure her protection.”
Minho nods.
“Please don’t kill him, Daddy.”
The boss meets you with cold eyes, disregarding your words to proceed with his lecture. “You are my most prized possession. I would hurt anyone or anything to make sure that not a single person touches you. The men who kidnapped you are all taken care of, wiped out by my command.”
He continues. “I know everything that goes on in your life. Every meal, every kiss, every injury, the staff must report every minor thing that occurs in your day. I have eyes on you at all times, and you’re more than aware of that.”
Your shoulders stiffen. He knew.
“Minho,” his stare is burning into the other man, “I’ll get to the point. Did you sleep with my daughter?”
He doesn’t blink. His body tenses up and his voice remains neutral.
“Yes.”
The boss turns the safety off of his firearm and you dig your head into your hands, unable to observe the scene that is about to unfold.
The gunshot is fired, but the man deliberately aims to the left of Minho, grazing his cheek with the bullet before standing up instantly from his seat. The guard doesn’t react with more than a blink as the blood pools at the cut.
“I trust you, Minho. You are a good man. If there is a single person who I would choose to give my daughter to, it would be you.”
Finally, Minho takes this as a sign to let his guard down for a moment as his shoulders drop, lip quivering slightly. It was evident that there was more emotion that the guard was holding back, especially when he took a moment to look away.
“You have my approval.”
Your eyes widen.
“Take care of my daughter. If you break her heart, I’ll feed your own heart to her for supper.”
“Understood.”
“Take her to dinner,” a wad of cash is pulled out from one of the drawers, “buy her flowers and anything else that she asks for.”
“Yes sir.” He responds, “I’ll make sure that she gets the treatment that she deserves.”
You run to embrace your father, to which he places an arm around you, rubbing your back before pulling away.
“Get yourself dressed more sufficiently, I will have a car ready for you soon.”
Minho follows you out of his office, letting out a breath that he had been holding in once the door was closed.
“Did you hear that?” Do you know what this means?” You beam at the man before grabbing at his cheeks and pulling him in for a kiss.
He lets out a surprised noise, hesitantly wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing back.
When you break the kiss, he stares back at you with the first big smile that you’ve seen from him displayed on his face.
“Let’s get you ready.”
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neopuppy · 3 months
Text
I’m Here To Save You (M)
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pairing. alpha johnny x female omega reader
genre. traditional a/b/o AU, friends to lovers, mild angst, fluff, pwp, m/f, one shot
warnings. profanity, alpha/omega dynamics, mating ceremony, pack head Alpha Johnny, size difference, use of Alpha voice, dominant but soft Johnny. smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.
wc. 15k
now playing. pied piper//bts
smut warnings. unprotected rough sex, public sex- with audience, biting, breeding, knotting, etc
a/n. I am aware of Johnny’s actual tattoos, in case it needs to be said. my apologies for the floof🫤😑
・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⋆ ・
By now you’d wish to have gotten the hang of climbing up a tree.
Hissing between your teeth as you pick at splinters cutting through your palm, you lean back into a more comfortable position against a large branch just in time to catch a glimpse of the group of Alphas marching out of the village for a hunt. It’d be another week condemned to the stables cleaning horse shit if any of them were to find you this deep in the woods again. 
For the most part you’ve managed to sneak around unnoticed, only catching the attention of a few elders who realized you’d been missing most of the day as you passed by and smiled inconspicuously.
Sometimes you just need to be alone, get away from the pack’s rules and hierarchy, all the duties and mundane tasks implemented. Even if your motive to distance yourself these days has less to do with wanting to be alone and more with needing to get away from a certain somebody that can’t seem to leave you alone.
“You know,” a familiar voice cuts through the trees. Long legs and thick brown hair with golden bits emerging before you can see his face in the light. “The day my father finds you out here this far from the pack, I won’t have any way to protect your ass from the punishment you’ll undoubtedly face.”
“He hasn’t caught me.” You respond, sneering down at your friend arching his neck back with a hand over his eyes to shield the sun and squint up at you. 
“Yet.” He states, snapping his fingers toward you with his free hand. “Get down from there.”
“No.”
“It’s not safe!” He hisses, peering back over his shoulder to ensure the Alphas have made it past the clearing already. “For someone like you to be up there.”
“Someone like me?” You spit, ripping a small tree branch free to hurl at his face. “What the hell is that supposed to mean!”
He sighs, stepping back to dodge your weak attempt to hurt him. “Don’t make me come up there.”
“Go away.”
“No.” Setting his hands on his hips he motions toward the lake with his head. “Let’s go swimming, it’s a nice day and with the Alphas gone it’s pretty empty.”
“Don’t want to.” You sigh, leaning back on the thick part of the tree. 
“Please? I already lied to Jaehyun to get out of hanging out with him today.” Reaching for the satchel laid on his hip, he pulls out a bottle antiseptic. “Bet your hands are really beat from scaling this ancient tree too. Come on, don’t make me beg to hang out with my best friend.”
Jaehyun’s your best friend. You want to snap back at him, huffing and frowning as you pick at a small splinter. 
“The waters perfect right now..” 
“Beg.” You say, peering down with a smile.
He chuckles, head shaking, pressing his hands against the tree. “Yeah? Should I get on my knees and cry? Would that make you come down?”
“Perhaps..”
“I said—“ with gritted teeth he grips onto the trunk of the tree firmly and shakes, adding kicks in-between. “Get down from there!”
“Johnny!” He’s stronger than you’d think from his gangly appearance, at least able to shake your position enough to clutch onto a large branch and curse as more bits of wood cut through your palm. “Stop it!”
“Are you coming down?!”
“Fine! You stupid neanderthal!”
“Nice one.” Catching his breath he moves back enough to grant you space to come down, reaching for your waist once you’re close enough to the ground. “I seriously hate when you sneak off without telling anyone.”
“It’s not a big deal.” You heave out of breath, swatting his hands away. Johnny’s persistent, grabbing a hold of your wrists and spinning you around to face him. 
“‘No.” He mutters, tsking under his breath. “It’s a huge deal. Goddess look at your hands.” A frown takes over his features, kneeling down to empty his bag in search of tweezers. “I only carry these around because of you.”
“I’m fine.” You scoff, ignoring the sting shooting through your hands. “I’ll wash them out in the water.”
“And risk infection?” Standing back up, he grabs onto your wrist again, turning your palm to face him. “Have your mother blame me for allowing you to ruin your delicate soft skin?”
“And who’s to say I need your permission to do anything?” You scowl, attempting to free your hand from his grip that only tightens.
“You know she expects me to look out for you.” Ignoring your petulance, he raises your hand up to carefully dissect a splinter from your middle finger, gentle with each movement to not make this hurt more than it has to. “As future head Alpha I have a reputation to uphold.”
“Yeah yeah yeah.” You snort sarcastically, rolling your eyes to avoid looking at the taller. “Pack Alpha this and that.”
“Right.” Johnny nods, dabbing a cloth drenched with antiseptic after each splinter removal. “This hatred towards Alphas, how exactly will that work and play out after I’ve presented?”
“Won’t matter.” You shrug, foregoing your struggle to allow him to bandage your palm up. 
“And why’s that?”
“My mother’s a Beta, my father’s an Alpha.” You say as if that’s enough of an answer.
Johnny’s gaze raises to yours, biting down on his lip. “Mmm.. right.” 
Squinting back at him, you shove his shoulder, nodding in the direction of the lake. “Let’s go before it gets too late.”
Too late, not referring to sundown but to the real reason you’ve journeyed out to the woods more and more these days. It’s around the corner, ready to rear its ugly head and ruin the one friendship you can always count on. Ruin the genuine care and love that’s formed between the two of you over the years.
“Loser has to clean out the pups dirty diaper can this week!” He shouts, running past you toward the lake.
“Johnny!” You whine, losing your breath to chase after him and grab onto the back of his shirt. “That’s not fair!”
“Hey!” He growls playfully, spinning around to grip around your waist as you tug on his collar and stretch the material out. “Let go!”
“You’re a cheater!” You hiss, aiming for his chest to punch lightly. “Be fair!” 
“Fine.” He laughs, releasing you to drop his satchel and tug his shirt off. “3 laps.” Pointing from one end of the lake to the other he motions between the two of you, knowing you can kick his ass at swimming anyday. “Me and you.”
“Deal.” Shoving down your hoodie and shorts, you barrel into his side and run past him to cannonball onto the water first. “Loser!”
“Hey!” Johnny jumps out of his shorts, pouncing in after you, arms paddling rapidly to race after you. “What’s fair about this!”
“Me winning!” 
You’re out of breath by the time you finish the last lap and bend over belly flat onto the rocks lining the lake. Johnny stops next to you shortly after, resting on his forearms as he mimics your position and swallows down air. 
“Hey, I’m getting better at this.” He says breathlessly, stomach sucking in and out. 
“Only because you’ve had an insane growth spurt..” you mumble, bracing your arms to shove out of the lake and move to the dry patch of grass nearby. 
He takes a few more minutes to bask in the sun, skin glistening with golden rays streaming across his back and shoulders. The hours spent outside during summer really brightened up his complexion, painting his hair with light brassy  streaks. It’s the same every year, as if the sun wants to be around him at all times, melting into his skin and soft brown eyes as he lifts his head and stretches.
“Yeah, dad measured me the other day.” He responds after a while, lifting his long torso to push up and out of the water and plop down by your side. “Grew another two inches..”
“Yeah, I can tell..” you mumble, looking away and rubbing at your arms. 
“So, why don’t we ever talk about it?” He says quietly, picking at shards of grass by his hip. “He thinks I’ll present soon, like.. really soon.”
Instead of opening the door to what a conversation like this can lead to, you shrug and roll your neck back to crack. “Let’s head back before it starts getting dark.”
Johnny lets out a tired sigh, teeth gritted as he stands up and follows after you, grabbing your elbow. “Don’t be like this.”
“Like what?”
He’s silent for a moment, head tilted and analyzing your lack of expression before letting you go. “It could be years until we see eachot—“
“I don’t care, okay? Drop it.”
“How could you not care?!” He asks, eyes wild and bewildered. “Do you not care about me??”
“Of course I care about you!” You shout, tearing your arm away from him. “But this is inevitable, it’s your destiny!”
“And you?” He’s quick to cut you off, stepping closer. “What about you? Are you a part of that destiny? Because right now I really feel like you’re trying to push me away and forget my existence.”
If only it was that easy.
“There’s nothing more to be said Johnny.” 
His gaze lowers seemingly disappointed, softly nodding, biting his bottom lip before a tremble can pass through. “Can I say something?”
No. Please don’t. Don’t make this harder on me than it already is.
“Fine.”
“Take care of yourself, for my sake? And please, stay close to the pack. Try to have some guilt in your conscience that your best friend can’t get a proper night of sleep while worrying about you running into a feral rogue or breaking a leg out there without anyone to find you.”
“Can you tell my friend that I’m not helpless and can very well fend for myself?” You retort, turning and stomping away back to the trail leading toward your pack's land. 
Johnny huffs, shaking his head and gathering the clothes you both discarded, clutching your hoodie for a minute in thought. There’s barely a scent on it, a hint of your mother and father’s lingering, really nothing more than a light memory of the times he’s walked you back to your cabin. If not for the nice weather today he’d chase after you and tackle you down until you cover up, staggering behind instead to stuff your sweater up to his nose.
He shouldn’t, not even allowed to innocently scent you let alone do anything like this. His father would be so disappointed with him, always lecturing him about befriending a girl like you. Very stubborn and unruly, always disobeying the pack Omegas that only want what’s best for you.
But this could be his last chance to savor something from you for some time, because he’d never ask you to scent.. as if you’d ever let him. The smell left behind is barely enough to taste, most of the scent belonging to your Alpha father, smokey and musk. Relaxing against a tree trunk he sighs, clutching the material to his chest solemnly. As stubborn as you may be, he can’t help to think you’re hurting more than you’re willing to show. 
You’d always been resilient toward him, avoiding him even after the first encounter you’d ever had. 
The pack Alphas son that everyone admires and adores, all except you.
・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⋆ ・
“Where’s Johnny?” You ask sheepishly, staggering nearby the head Alphas cabin too chicken to actually knock on the door for an answer. Things hadn’t ended on the best note yesterday, and typically by now your friend would have sought you out, probably dragged you to the canteen for a snack since you slept through breakfast again.
“What do you mean?” Jaehyun snickers, passing by with bags full of manure on his way to the stables. “You didn’t hear?”
“Hear what?” You ask, mildly panicked.
Jaehyun scoffs quietly, glancing around cautiously for head Alphas presence. “He presented.”
“What?!” 
“Shh!” He hisses, grabbing your arm to drag you along with him and out of the pack leaders' close proximity. “How could you not know?! Last night, head Omega had to stay with the elders because Johnny’s rut hit.”
“Rut.. meaning—he’s..”
“Oh come on.” Jaehyun rolls his eyes, flicking your chin.” “You always knew, don’t you remember the first time we met?”
Of course you remember.
When you’re five years old, you get dropped off at the learning center for the first time. It’s not much, depending on the amount of Omegas vs Alphas amongst your pack. No more than 30 pups ranging in elementary age running around screaming.
That’s when you meet Jaehyun of the Jung lineage. He’s the first boy to ever make fun of you. Stuck to share a desk with him based on the proximity of your last names. Jaehyun prods your cheek with the end of his pencil. Asking you why they’re so round, adding a jab by showing off the deep indents on his own. 
He follows you out to the field when the lead Omega instructor dismisses you for break. Skipping along your side boasting about how he’s already begun learning archery. 
“My dads one of the strongest Alphas the pack has!” He gloats. Drawing an arm back to shoot an invisible arrow toward the forest that surrounds your village. “Says I’ll be just like him someday, better even!”
Squinting at him, you nod, lacking the same enthusiasm he has. Opting to search for a toy to occupy your free time, you browse through the crates piled together outside. A yo-yo could be fun, once you untangle the string another pup had evidently left to be discarded.
“Hey!” Jaehyun smacks the toy out of your hold. Pouting like a petulant upset baby. “Are you even listening to me?”
“Why did you do that?” A taller boy interrupts the two of you. Bending down to grab the yo-yo that’s rolled away, hitting the toe of his sneaker. He lifts it up with a bit of inspection, beginning to unravel the string. 
“..oh..Johnny..” Jaehyun stammers. His once bratty tone falling into a hushed one lacking confidence. “I was just messing around.”
Johnny, as Jaehyun calls him, concentrates on straightening out the toys string. Winding it up with ease and gesturing for you to take it once he’s finished.
“Should be all good to use now.” He smiles brightly. Having to lean his neck down as he looks over your lost expression. With the corners of his lips dropping to a pronounced frown, he blares Jaehyun with a cold stare. “Don’t do that again okay? No future strong Alpha of our pack would behave in such a manner.”
Flitting you with a rushed look, he turns away. Meeting up with a few other pups who seemed closer to his age. Jaehyun grumbles at your side, crossing his arms over his chest. His small foot lifting to a stomp for added dramatics.
“Great, now he’s going to snitch on me to the Head Alpha. I wasn’t even doing anything bad!” Jaehyun cries out. Sucking on his bottom lip in thought. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Nodding quietly, you loop the yo-yo’s thread around your index finger. Having to tighten it from where Johnny had left it. 
Jaehyun continues to follow you around, quite talkative for a pup. Too talkative in comparison to you. Directing you to walk in any direction that wouldn’t bring you any closer to the boy that had clearly left him shook up. 
“Do you know him?” You wonder. Glancing to where Johnny spikes a volleyball high above a net setup. The opposition weakened by a powerful collision meeting his chest. 
“Pft, of course!” Jaehyun gawks, fitting you with widened eyes. “That’s Head Alpha’s firstborn son! You can’t be serious right? He’s most likely to lead our pack some day.”
The yo-yo zips up with speed, caught in your grip tightly, mewling over Jaehyun’s explanation. Cheers to your left pull you to catch sight of the pup who had helped you. Hoisted up off his feet by a group of others who cheered from a victorious outcome of whatever game they had been playing.
Johnny was destined to be an Alpha. 
It shouldn’t come as a surprise to hear the news that your best friend finally presented. If anything, you’re disappointed. You’d been too mean yesterday.. really for the last few weeks as if you could sense it coming. 
“Since he’s presented, I’m sure we’ll be going next.” Jaehyun interrupts your inner turmoil, rubbing his chin. “Can feel my Alpha ready to break free any minute now.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Well, typically it’s somewhat of a domino effect. One Alpha presents and suddenly a slew of Omegas appear.. which triggers our Alphas.” He explains as if you’re clueless.
“Not that. I mean, I’m not going anywhere. Except to help in the kitchens along with the rest of the Betas.” You say surely, waving an arm out. “Maybe I’ll end up in the farms, wherever I get assigned to.”
Jaehyun laughs amused, eyebrows raised high. “Sweetie, you’re about as Omega as they come.”
Instead of letting the same comment you’ve heard most of your life get to you, you shrug it off and glance back toward the head Alphas cabin. “Will I get to see him again?”
Jaehyun hums. “Probably in a few weeks, you know.. when they start to separate us.”
Knowing you’d left things in a somewhat awkward place with your friend really dragged your heart through the mud, making your way back to the lake you’d been at just the day before full of regret that you’d been cutting him off and spending less time together. Perhaps deep down inside you knew the feelings you continued to stomp down into nothing consisted of a culmination of fear and anger. Anger because you don’t want to lose him, fear of what the future holds in store for you once you have inevitably presented. Fear that you will end up stuck with the Omegas until adulthood. Anger that you can’t seek Johnny to comfort your worries anymore.
Jaehyun was right, as everyone has always been about you. The domino effect took its toll on the pack, triggering heats and ruts alike until yours hit in the middle of the night and consumed you with the worst pain you’ve ever felt. 
A pain of yearning and insatiable hunger, hunger that had one name written at the back of your tongue, attempting to swallow it down before your Omega could break free and shout his name out. Tears burned down your face as you fisted at your bedding and grinded your hips down, not even the strongest elixir of ancient herbs could quell your lust for the Alpha.
Johnny Johnny Johnny..
His name swirled through your mind, each memory and touch you ever shared, his hold on your waist and shoulders, the difference in size between you just this last year.
“Alpha..”
With 20 pack members presenting the council decided it’s time to move you onto your next step. 
You pleaded and cried in your mother’s arms begging for her to do something to stop this, to let you stay with her somehow, someway. Realistically no amount of tears could stop the assimilation you all must face. 
“It will be over before you know it my love.” She said sweetly, braiding your hair the night before you’re to move to the Omega quarters. 
Won’t be over soon enough, you think, keeping your thoughts to yourself the more your eyes puff up. Sleep would be hard to come by tonight, knowing tomorrow changes everything. The days of being a young careless pup with lack of responsibility change now, cursed by your damn Omegan genetic chemistry. Because whether you accepted it or not, the chances of a Beta mating anything other than a Beta rarely ever led to the same sub-gender offspring. Even your mother always hinted and skirted around the idea of you presenting as an Omega, never an Alpha with your delicate soft nature, no matter how hard headed you may be.
“At least you will get to see your friends once more tomorrow.” She said as she tucked you in and kisses your forehead. “I’m sure they’re eager to congratulate you on presenting.”
Friends.
The only friend she’s ever even seen you with being the pack Alphas son. She knew very well how odd your relationship is, being that you don’t even come from one of the stronger lineages. Perhaps her prayers to the moon goddess to grant her daughter a prosperous future had been answered. Time would tell..
Sunlight entered your room right as your eyes were ready to fall shut after failed attempts of counting sheep to shut your mind off. Nothing could stop your incessant fear from escalating knowing what a new day would bring.
“We don’t want to be late, princess. It’s time.” Your father chirped happily from your bedroom door, gathering the bag you’d be taking with you later today.
No, of course you wouldn’t want to be late to the induction ceremony. Even with a stomach full of nerves as you made your way to the divided trails leading to sectioned off lands for Alphas and Omegas you tried to calm yourself, take deep breaths, fiddle with your hands until you had no choice but to ball them up in tight fists.
“My baby’s grown so much.” Your mother cuts the unbearable loud silence pounding in your head, smoothing loose tendrils away from your face. “You’ll surely make us proud in there, receive many merits and accolades from the elder Omegas.”
“I’ll do my best.” You say solemnly, leaning your cheek into her palm one last time. “I’ll miss you both so much.”
“Soon soon, angel. Everything will go by so fast, you’ll be back in no time.”
The ceremony to send you off lasted no longer than a few minutes after all goodbyes were said, staggering behind before making your way to catch up with the rest of the newly presented Omegas. You slowly turn to look over your shoulder, breath lodged in your throat when you find his gaze already on you. 
“Johnny?” You mouth hopefully. He stands straight, stepping to the side of his group until you’re close enough to take in how much more he’s filled out in mere days. The once gangly long limbs now protrude with muscle, shoulders grown in width, and jawline sharpened with definition as baby fat disappears.  
“Johnny.” You whisper, reaching a hand out for your best friend, now Alpha, to take a hold of. He visibly swallows, a tormented expression streaking across his face as he looks you over.
“I can’t.” He whispers back, blinking furiously. Tugging the straps of his bag on his shoulders tighter. “I can’t..”
He nods swiftly, turning his face away from you with a stiff twist of his neck to keep himself staring ahead. Pain scorches up your gut, burning the pathway leading to your heart as your hand falls limp by your hip and you sniffle back the onslaught of tears already rushing to the backs of your eyes. 
“I’m sorry.” He barely whispers before turning down the opposite path, leaving you with the last memory you’d hold onto for the next 5 years to come.
One last look caught yours before disappearing behind the fence meant to keep new Alpha and Omega apart.
Time. Only more time can make any difference now.
・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⋆ ・
“I can’t wait until we integrate with the rest of the pack.”
“I can.” You say quietly, keeping your head low to not draw the attention of the lead Omegas walking around observing how well you’ve all begun to take on your roles. “I don’t dream of being mated.”
“Ah, well.” Minnie, the bubbly Omega you’ve come to know in your last year by no choice of your own smiles softly, tilting her head dreamily. “I can’t wait to be with my first pup, and finally know my mate. It’s all I can think about.”
Of course it is, you want to say, lowly humming and continuing to brush out the furs dropped off today. They carried all types of scents from the elders, council members, even faint traces of betas. Alpha furs are only to remain within the village grounds, nowhere near unmated Omegas. 
“You really have no desire to mate?” Minnie continues to pester you, smile turning mischievous. “I bet I can change your mind.”
She seems more than up to no good judging by the way her lips tweak to one side before bouncing up onto the balls of her feet, pointing this and that way while hurriedly explaining something to one of the elder Omegas.
“Fine fine Minnie, take that one with you and be back on time to help in the kitchen.” She motions your way, cutting off the younger Omega before she talks her ear off.
She skips on her way back to you, bundling up a few of the furs you’ve been cleaning. “Told her we need to deep clean these to get the smell out.” 
“They don’t sme—“
“Shh!” She rushes, grabbing a hold of your arm to hoist you up and drag you away from the group of Omegas working hard to brush out knots and stains. “You have to be quiet about this okay? I’ll get into so much trouble if the word about this gets back to the council.”
“What are you going on about?!” You grit, failing to shake her arms off. Leaving you with no choice but to follow along as she leads you past the riverbank. 
“I’m telling you, there’s something special a few of the Omegas showed me a while ago.” She says excitedly, teeth on full display as she peers over her shoulder to ensure no one’s nearby. “Over here, these fences behind the leaders cabin.”
“We’re not supposed to go this far..” you say hesitantly, digging your heels into the dirt path to slow her down.
“It’s not prohibited.. but they haven’t renovated these parts in decades..” she explains, using extra strength to make you turn down the short hill that covers most of the fence. “They really should too.”
“Why? Doesn’t it just lead to the village?”
“Well, no..” he trails off, biting down on her lip deviously. “You have to promise not to say anything, alright?”
Sighing, you shrug and wrap around her pinky, unsure of what could possibly be so secretive about this area. She nods, pressing a finger to her lips as you step up to the area covered by old tree branches. “Don’t be loud.”
Releasing your arm, she reaches to move a few branches aside and motions for you to come closer. There behind the mess of greenery are two holes on the old tall wooden fence. You stop for a moment to glance back at her, nodding with her lips pursed for you to look through.
Nothing could have prepared you for what actually resides on the other side of the fence. More water that you didn’t know existed, the rest of the river that’s been cut off by this man-made fence constructed decades ago when the pack struggled to keep Alphas and Omegas consistently equal in numbers. The council decided it best to separate freshly presented pups into individual camps until they experienced their first heat or rut. Segregating the two sub-genders to manage future matings with annual runs. Their plan had been successful after balancing the scale, allowing for their pack to grow healthy and plentiful.
It’s been years since you’ve last seen an Alpha.. until now.
“Is..” you stutter, blinking rapidly. “Is that..”
“The Alphas.” She whispers near your ear, lightly tapping a fingertip against the fence. “They swim and clean off at this stream after their hunts, seems to be only the ones that are soon on their way out of the camp..”
Alphas, playfully shooting water at each other, laughing and rough housing after a morning hunt. They have baskets full of fish lined up near their weapons on the path, a few of them deeper in the water scrubbing their arms and chest clean with cloths. 
“Our future mates could be here right now.” She beams, pushing her cheek against yours to steal a look. “Oh Goddess, it’s him..” 
“Who?”
“Head Alphas son..” she murmurs off, eyes going lazy as she rests against your head for you to both get a look
Head Alphas son? But that would be..
How could you have not immediately noticed him, trudging out from the shallow end of the stream glistening under the daylight sun, shaking off the water cascading from his broad frame the closer he reaches toward the end.
It’s him, it has to be him. 10 inches taller than you remember, hair longer and framed around his much sharper and pronounced bone structure. The baby fat on his cheeks long gone, body built up from years of hunting. The pressure of having to be the strongest and most reputable Alpha evident in his intimidating stance alone.
“Johnny.” The name passes from your lips without realizing, widening Minnie’s eyes as she turns to look at you.
“You know him?”
Know him? He was the last member of your pack that you had contact with before joining the rest of the newly presented Omegas. Even sharing goodbyes with your own family before him. You knew he’d be an Alpha eventually, but you’d never considered how painful it would be to lose your best friend to the otherside. 
The reality always loomed though. The pack Alphas first born son could never present as a Beta, Goddess forbid as an Omega. 
“No.” You reply, clearing your throat and tearing your gaze away. ��We shouldn’t be here, it’s against pack law to be in contact with Alphas while unmated.”
“We aren’t contacting them, not really..” she smirks coyly, trapping your arm once more. “Just a little longer? They’ll be on their way eat soon.”
You shouldn’t, should stand your ground and put your foot down against this condemnable behavior.
But one more look can’t hurt much.
One more look just to be certain that it’s him, that it’s really your Johnny.
He’s changed so so much, nearly unrecognizable if you weren’t sure of his residency on the other side of this fence. 
“He’s incredibly handsome, don’t you think?” Minnie disrupts the one on one conversation happening with yourself, looping an arm around your waist to bring you both closer to the holes. “Can you believe we’ll be in the same mating hunt as our next head Alpha?”
“What??” You practically shriek, covering your mouth and pulling away. 
She looks at you half amused, in awe of your clueless nature. “It’s been five years silly, the elders have been discussing lowering our time inside these lands to ensure a strong Winter. The moon goddess predicts we will need many healthy pups due to the severity of climate change that’s recently taken place.”
“How do you know all of this?!”
She sighs, wagging a finger in your face. “You never pay attention during the morning lecture. They say we could be out of here as soon as the next red moon! That’s only a few weeks from now.”
A few WEEKS?! 
“Judging by the look of these Alphas..” she hums flirtatiously, turning back to peep through the fence and suck a long breath in. “They’re certainly ready to hunt, and I’m ready to be chased.”
“The mating hunt, is it guaranteed that all who participate will be mated?” You ask full of worry, dragging fingers through your hair. 
“Of course, that’s the point of all this!” She says, clicking her tongue. “If I didn’t know any better I’d swear you were born yesterday.”
Stealing one more look, she sighs and bites her lip excitedly. “I’m so ready to be out of here.” Turning back to you she grabs your arm. “Let's get back before the elders catch on to us missing. Besides, we’ll be with our Alphas in no time.”
In no time. Too soon. 
And as if to mock your worry the days tick by faster and faster, now very alert during your usual extra nap time in the morning. You listen to every word, biting at your nails by the third week as the elders rejoice that the forecast had been correct and the blood red moon will indeed rise in the next few days. 
“Soon you will birth strong and powerful members to contribute to the pack.” They preached and flounced about full of excite. “Tomorrow we will introduce you back to the pack to prepare for the hunt. Not a hair or patch of dry skin shall appear on you! You must impress your potential Alpha suitors to desire and want to chase you.”
More thrilled than you could ever be about this, they began to distribute scent blockers around the hall. Instructing you all begin using them tonight to ensure no Alpha can trail you off scent. It has to be instinct and intuition to find your true mate.
Once you have presented, every pack Omega is expected to participate in the annual mating ceremony. Ensuring the packs healthy growth to avoid a desolate village.
Your biggest dread of presenting as an Omega subsided as you met your predator's gaze. Stalking around you with snapping teeth and no escape. 
There was no way to predict the Alpha determined to mate you would end up being your best friend.
・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⋆ ・
“I can’t do this.” You whisper, sneaking a watery look at your mother. The reunion with your parents had been too fast, not enough time to plead your case and beg for them to find you another option. She smiles stiffly at you, securing the braids she put your hair in with ribbons.
“Sweety..” she says between clenched teeth, blinking furiously. “Do not embarrass us. It’s an honor that you’ve been summoned to participate in the mating hunt.”
An honor? Giving up your freedom and shred of independence you can barely cling onto for an Alpha? An Alpha that will breed and claim you like nothing more than a whore?
“What’s honorable about this, mother?”
She sighs, painting your cheeks with thin stripes of oil to illuminate your skin and make you more desirable for your possible mate. “I only wish I’d been given the chance you have to strengthen the pack. Omegas are the backbone of our livelihood, without you we’d go extinct faster than animals.”
Popping her mouth for you to mimic she applies a smudge of red tint to your lips, standing proudly after to take in your full appearance. “Without a scent to trail, the Alphas will really have to focus on using their other senses.. and you look ethereal. Always knew you’d grow up to be one of the prettiest in our pack, even if I worried about all those scars you’d come home with all the time.”
“What if I refuse?” You ask wearily, glancing around at the other Omegas being prepped for the hunt.
“You’ll be exiled.” Your mom says sternly, tight lipped as she grips your shoulders to look at her. “Think about your father and I, please. We barely got you back.”
A mixture of guilt and rancid vomit combines in your stomach the longer you stand around and wait for the Alphas to show up. The elders have been greeting each other, smugly smiling as if they’ve accomplished something by forcing young Omegas to hand over their lives and become breeding machines. They gather around and announce the next generation of Alphas to lead the pack. You can’t see their entrance from where you stay hidden with the rest of the Omegas participating, not allowed to see any of your potential mates. Only able to swallow down the throw up that rises up your throat as cheers and roars pound through the earth beneath your feet. Alphas praised for merely existing, for being the breadwinners of the pack that ensure longevity and protection. 
Omegas are the real backbone, as your mother said, whether she meant it or simply wanted to shut you up and finish dolling you for essentially a stranger to ship off with. 
“This is so thrilling.” Minnie pops up next to you, her lips a deep cherry, cheeks stung with the residue to make her skin glow. She looks radiant, lovely as ever, so ready to show off a bite on her beautiful long neck. “I want to be caught already.”
Nothing could compel you to agree, silently nodding to resist the incessant urge to gag. Judging by the giggles and squeals surrounding you, no one seems to share your sentiment. Why would they after years of being brainwashed to want this.
She takes your hand, squeezing and bouncing on the balls of her feet. “May the moon goddess bring you the best Alpha.”
“You too, Min..”
A whistle blows signaling you to line up and ready yourselves to run, everyone scrambles around excitedly, leaving you at the forefront as the elders explain the ‘rules’ again.
“You are not to ever remove your scent blockers, you are to hide once the Alphas begin their hunt. You are forbidden to leave the pack lands, and if you are not claimed you shall immediately report back to the Omega sector until the next red moon. Claimed Omegas are to come back with their Alpha mated. Only once paired off may you re-enter the pack.”
It’s due or die, whether or not you avoid an Alphas claim you’ll never be free from this restrictive life..
The second the horn sets off you run, feet pounding to the earth without a second thought. Heavy breathing and laughter fades away behind you, distancing yourself further and further away from where most of the Omegas will choose to hide, you imagine. The same trees you used to wander through catch your attention out ahead, furiously quickening your pace at the sound of another horn signaling that the Alphas are on the move.
The same forest you spent days hiding inside of is just right outside of your lands, against the rules, but you need to wait it out long enough. Once enough time has passed and the Alphas make their claims you can move back to your packs territory. No one has to know.
Not even the splinters clawing through the skin of your palms can slow you down, hoisting yourself up the largest tree you can find until you manage to get up high and let out a sigh of relief. The pounding in your heart refuses to settle even so, hissing as you wipe your hands off on your tunic and try to adjust your weight onto a thick branch. Even at this proximity you can hear howls and cries, sounds of pleasure ripping through the tears as Omegas go down, claimed and gnawed at by rabid Alphas. 
Time goes by slowly as you sit still and listen, sucking at your wounded hands to ease the sting left behind. It’s nothing compared to the mix of pain swarming between moans. Deep guttural Alpha wails break through the dusk, shifting and breaking bones as they take their conquests and solidify their claim with a knot.
Only a few more hours until it dies down, you hope.. peering up at the clouds that dance around the red moon. Orange light sprays across the ground, illuminating clear paths for predator eyes to seek their prey. They’d never be able to find you up here, unless..
A loud huff snaps your neck toward the entrance of the forest, cracking tree branches and kicking rocks as the sound grows near.
Large, terrifyingly large, medium brown soft with light hints of gold, and eyes you’d recognize even if you suffered from amnesia. Those sharp sleek eyes that you’d never be able to forget no matter how much you try. Why would he come out here? Why did he have to come out here.
There’s only one reason. Snarling and puffing large breaths of air as he slowly paws through and approaches the largest tree, listening attentively for any movement. Sitting back on his hind legs, his gaze lands on you without sparing a second, squinting past the leaves you’ve shrouded yourself with. He barks, baring his teeth as trickles of saliva drip down his jowls.
Get down from there.
“Go away!” You hiss, grabbing onto a tree branch firmly as he nears and clambers up, scratching his claws along the trunk.
It’s been years and you still insist on giving me the biggest headache.
“I said go away Johnny!” 
Get down. Immediately. Don’t make me climb up there.
“I’m not coming down! Now get away before another Alpha follows your trail and figures out that I’m hiding out here.” You grunt, fearfully looking out as another large wolf approaches.
You need to come down. Right now.
“You’re leading him right to me.” You whine, moving up another branch to hide yourself from the Alpha passing between the trees.
Johnny’s teeth snap, biting at the air as an Alpha with dark fur growls at him, leaping up on his hind legs he stands tall above him, shouting at the new presence to get lost.
This one's mine.
The dark furred Alpha hesitates for a bit, egging the lighter to get his nose in his face, snout digging into the others until he whimpers and backs away, slowly making his exit from the woods.
An enormous sense of relief lightens the tension weighing down your shoulders, leaning back on the tree until a sudden huge ruckus shoots you to sit up urgently. 
The Alpha down below backs up and rams into the trunk repeatedly, growling and smashing his dome forward until you’re shouting.
“Johnny! Stop! Stop!” 
GET DOWN. RIGHT NOW!
His Alpha sounds vicious, ripping through your mind, causing your Omega to cower and frightfully shiver. Biting down on your lip to contain a whimper, you nod and gingerly set your foot down to make your way down the tree. 
“Please, don’t tell head Alpha about this.. he’ll have me condemned..” you plead, keeping your gaze to the floor to not have to look your old friend in the eye. Shame, embarrassment and fear runs rampant throughout your system, lighting goosebumps up your flesh. 
No one is touching my mate.
“What?!” You nearly lunge back, falling down onto your ass as you crawl away without taking your eyes off of him. “Johnny! It’s me! You’re mistaken—“
Quiet. Omega. 
Slowly trudging closer to you, he stops to sit. Stance big and strong towering above you.
Present.
“Johnny, I can’t do tha—“ 
The growl he lets out cracks a whimper from your throat, rustling the leaves throughout each surrounding tree, echoing loud enough for even birds to flock away out of fear.
“You don’t want this, not with me, remember me?” It seems futile to attempt conversation with an Alpha in wolf form, feeling defenseless and defeated as your back knocks against a rock and the Alpha leaves you with nowhere to run. 
Present for your Alpha. I won’t ask again.
“I-I can’t, don’t ask that of me.” Bile rises up your chest, digging your fingers through clumps of dirt as the large wolf nuzzles your face and takes a deep inhale. “This is a mistake, has to be a mistake..”
Lights blind your vision, collapsing on the ground when his scent slams into you. A husk leather oud infiltrates your senses, strong and rich, immediately swirling between each crevice until your chest caves. The Alphas scent is the strongest you’ve ever felt, dominant, enrapturing, near drug-inducing. The scent of a powerful Alpha, more powerful than you’ve ever experienced. Too much for your secluded body and mind to handle atop of the raging fear beating from your chest.
The Alpha nudges your limp figure a few times, softly huffing and licking up your cheek. There’s no point in waiting it out, already gone for hours since the hunt began, he shifts back and hoists your lifeless body onto his arms, carrying you out of the woods with ease. The walk back to your lands can take about another hour, knowing his father will undoubtedly be waiting for his return with a proud smile as his son triumphantly strides back through with his future head Omega intact.
Exactly as he imagined it, his father stands tall and full of pride, the smile on his lips slowly sinking as he sees no sign of a mating mark. Confusion flows between the two Alphas as he comes to a stop and adjusts your limp weight in his arms. 
“What is this son? Have you not mated?” He asks sternly, leaning in closer to inspect your naked throat.
“The Omega, she fainted before I could consummate..”
“Ah, I see. Drop her off at the infirmary and continue on your way back out. Many Alphas have already returned with their claimed mates. You need to be swift and hurry now.”
“This is my mate, father.” Johnny states loud and clear, cradling you closer to his chest. “She is the one my wolf has chosen.”
Clarity evades the head alphas features, scowling as he steps forward to whisper. “You dare to bring disgrace upon my name with this unmated weak Omega? What have I taught you?”
“No father, I do not wish to bring shame upon our lineage.”
The head Alpha snaps his fingers, ushering his main henchmen to cover up their surroundings. “Get the Omega back to your cabin. Do not bring her back without your markings.” He orders, rushing two of the elders to cut around the village to his son’s cabin. “I will not have you humiliate my name with your choice.”
Johnny nods without protest, following along with the elders that obscure your bodies behind veiled cloaks. At least in his cabin he can help you get proper rest and keep an eye on you. 
“Get her inside.” One of the elders says in a hushed voice, covering the entrance to his cabin. “Listen to me my boy, if that Omega exits your sights without a mark, I don’t want to jump to conclusions of what your father may pull, but it won’t be pleasant.”
He nods assuredly, thanking the older Alpha for helping him before leading you to his furs to lay upon. At least this way you can become accustomed to his scent, enough to keep you stable even if it overwhelms you. He should have anticipated that you’d be difficult to deal with even now after all of this time apart. You’ve grown a lot, as has he, but clearly your disdain towards Alphas hasn’t changed much.
He wonders for a moment if he should have just walked away when Jaehyun showed up with intent to mate you. The thought alone makes his Alpha scream at the top of its lungs, clenching his fist and shaking his head to calm the rage building inside of him.
Anyone else mating you has never been an option, because Johnny always knew it had to be him. He always knew that it had to be you. 
‘That sweaters a bit tight for you, don’t you think?’ His friend jeered, poking at the faded cotton material stretched over his much larger body.
Johnny ignored him, waving Jaehyun off before heading to the river to wash off, making a stop by the bathrooms nearby first. He’s kept your oversized sweater stuffed at the very bottom of his bag as he marched into the newly presented Alpha sector of your packs lands, heart beating from his chest as he stole one last look back and found your gaze peering over your shoulder practically begging to be saved.
He’d dreamt about it for years, what your scent would smell of, how you’d grow to be the most beautiful Omega, strong and regal by his side. Perfect to lead a pack by him in time. 
In time you will see, even if you don’t have much left to spare.
・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⋆ ・
Air thick as molasses glides down your tongue, struggling to swallow as you sit up and break out into a fit of coughs. Everything’s too warm, incinerating you from inside out with each breath you take in. Grasping around yourself you find a wall behind you, choking on your next breath right as the Alpha enters and rushes over to you.
“Here, drink this.” He sits down fast, raising a cup of cooled tea to your lips, tipping it for you to drink from. The sensation of calming herbs flows through your chest, filling your senses from nose to taste, opening up your air passages to breath with ease. “Drink all of it.”
“What is that??” You cough, wiping at your lips and pushing the mug away.
“You fainted, healer Ryu said it can happen when Omegas aren’t accustomed to the scent of Alpha..” tilting his head to the side, he taps at a scent blocker stuck to his neck. “This should help, you’re in my cabin thought, my scent is pretty much everywhere..”
“What am I doing here?” You try to say clearly, choking on the spit lining your throat that's thickened up. “W-why did you bring me here?”
Johnny’s gaze darkens, dragging down your even toned neck, the expanse of your smooth delicate shoulders and your bare arms. “Because.” He stiffens, glaring at your throat. “I want you to be awake when I mate you.”
“Mate me?!?” Shooting up straight, you clutch the furs on top of your body tightly, half questioning if he undressed you to get you under here in the first place..
Sitting up, he nods and reaches to move your hair back causing you to flinch as his knuckles drag down your cheek. “Do you not remember me?”
He seems hesitant to ask, lips tugged down at the sides, grazing past your scent gland still masked by blockers. 
“Of course I remember you!” Glowering, you grab his wrist and dig your fingernails in. “Now answer me! What am I doing here?!”
The sensation of your stubby nails clawing at his flesh has no effect, shrugging you away as he comes to stand and paces in front of the bed you sit on. “Did you hit your pretty little head falling down from one of those trees while trying to hide?” He asks in a snarky manner, placing hands on his hips to widen his size. “How many times are you expecting me to repeat myself?”
“You know I never fall.”
Johnny rights himself, standing tall above you. “And I know where you’d go to hide from a gang of Alphas seeking their prey.”
“You cheated.” 
“I found you fairly, just in time too. Jaehyun was trailing my ass knowing I’d be looking for you. You’re lucky he knows better than to go up against me.”
Jaehyun. The other Alpha that Johnny had scared away.
“It’s not fair.. you left our territory—“
“And you should be grateful that I did.” He lunges toward you, slamming his fists down on the bed. “If anyone else had found you breaking the rules like that I’d never be able to save your ass.”
“I don’t need to be saved, especially not thanks to an Alpha.” You spit, cowering back against a wall.
“Watch your tongue little one. We aren’t pups anymore.”
Hard knocks shake through the cabin, pursuing your lips together to stop an insult from dicing its way through the Alphas flesh. Moving away, he peers back over his shoulder, motioning your way. “Don’t move, Omega.”
He disappears behind the door shutting, springing to your feet to scamper your way over when you hear deep voices murmur through.
“Have you done it?” You can recognize head Alphas domineering tone, judging from the way Johnny replies alone. He sounds immature, young and still innocent but still respectful.
“Not yet father.” He’s quiet, probably keeping his head down, too much shame to look his dad in the eye.
“I never expected this from you son.” Head Alpha sounds disappointed, drawing out a long sigh. “All of this over some Omega.”
“She’s more than that.”
“I do not care.” Shutting down his son quickly, head Alpha takes heavy steps, most likely pushing his chest out to instill intimidation. 
“If you do not mate her by the end of today, I have no choice son. I will not allow your obsession with this inadequate Omega to tarnish the reputation I have helped you build. No one wants to follow orders from an Alpha that cannot even control his Omega. You will do what I see fit or I shall summon the council to order a public mating.” Head Alpha spits each word out like shards of glass, gashing through even your flesh from where you listen through the door. The thought of Johnny on the other side trying to keep up a strong facade pings through your chest, willing it away with your arms tightening around yourself.
He must be stoic, emotionless to his father’s rage, because he doesn’t reply, nothing but the sound of footsteps follow for the next few minutes. 
Stepping back inside abruptly, he catches you off guard, leaping away from the door and rushing to hide your tear-filled eyes. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t stay in place.”
“You know me.” You mutter sarcastically, lips tugging down at the sides. “Public mating?”
Johnny sighs, starting to pace and run his hands through his long locks. “I assume you heard everything.”
“What was head Alpha talking about? Is he going to have me exiled?”
He scoffs, glaring at you from the corner of his eye. “As if I’d ever allow that.”
“You’d have to, you can’t go against your father.”
“I can’t?” Lifting a defined eyebrow at you, he steps forward to get in your face, neck craning lower. “What do you not understand? You are my mate. I would go against anyone for you, even my own damn blood.”
“I don’t understand, okay?!” You shout, frustrated, taking a step back nervously. 
“I’ve always known.” Johnny cuts you off, following you with long strides until your back meets a wall. “You have too.”
“No.. Johnny..” 
“Alpha.”
“No!” Lifting your hands, you press flat against his chest to put distance between your bodies. Useless as he doesn’t so much as budge, reaching for your waist as he bends in closer until his lips hover an inch away from yours.
“This stubborn act was endearing when we were kids, you know.” He laments, laughing under his breath. “It was cute and I may do whatever it takes to make you mine, but you will respect me as your mate.”
His tone lowers, near a rumble that has your Omega howling in pain, every signal warning for you to behave. “You’re not my mate.”
He snaps fast, growling deep in his chest, palms slamming down on the wall behind your head. “Do not disobey me.”
The Alphas voice cuts deep, rolling tremors down your limbs until your knees give and buckle, dropping your face between his chest as a pathetic whimper springs from your lips. You crumble at the fury, the Omega inside of you curling up into a ball in shame. How could you anger our mate enough to make him use his Alpha voice? It’s your fault, unleashing an onslaught of pain throughout your body the more you cower against him.
An exhausted sigh blows across the side of your face, standing up straight with arms wrapped around your waist he holds you close, nose dropping to your hair to take in a long inhale. “I shouldn’t have. I don’t know what overcame me just now..”
“I hate you.” You cry between chattering teeth, weakly hitting his chest. “How could you do that to me?”
“No you don’t.” Johnny’s eyes fall shut, dragging his nose against your crown. “I need you to listen to me. I’m sorry. I’m frustrated and stressed over what my father said..”
Sniffling, you ease against him, looping an arm around his waist to regain your balance, and maybe comfort the emotionally wounded Omega whimpering inside of you to fix this. “Public mating?”
“Yes..” he hesitates for a minute, rubbing a soothing large hand up and down your back before pulling away to cup your face.”If the council agrees, I will be summoned to claim you before the pack Alphas..”
“What??”
Pursing his lips, he looks away, forehead wrinkling. “As their next head Alpha, I cannot risk dishonoring tradition..”
“What’s traditional about this?!” You speak up, pushing away again only to be kept in place by strong built arms. 
“It’s not up to me anymore.”
“Then let me leave!” Hissing, you strike a balled up fist against his chest, lip trembling to contain your tears. “Johnny, please!”
“I can’t.” He says firmly, taking a hold of your shoulders to keep you still against the wall. “Tomorrow I will mate you, and if you try to run, I will never stop chasing after you.”
Silence falls between the two of you as he keeps you stuck in place with a look full of hunger. Eyes dancing between desire and passion. It’s enough to bite your tongue and hold back the whiplash of words your mind fights against your heart to shout at him. 
“There’s no other way?” You ask brokenly, throat exhausted as if your Omega used your vocal chords to scream her murderous tears. 
Shaking his head slowly, he leans in and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. “There is no other way.”
・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⋆ ・
There is no other way.
Because this is the only way to prove to the pack that you belong to Johnny. That the Alpha has truly thoroughly fucked and claimed you, that no one will ever question his position to lead this pack.
The council wastes no time on discourse, immediately proclaiming that a mating ritual shall take place today, and that the Omega set to be the next head by pack Alphas side will have a mark on her neck by the end of this day.
“Here I thought the hunt would be the highest honor, you’re lucky the council has been lenient enough to allow this.” Your mother’s fixing up your face once again, unable to remove the giant dumb smile from her face as she moves to brush your hair. “Ah, the moon goddess truly heard my wishes. Head Alphas son of all Alphas! What a blessing.”
Every single member of the pack seemed to question how and why you were chosen. Walking through the village to your parents cabin drew more attention to you than you’d ever experienced. Whispers floated through the air, backing the rumors that you couldn’t even handle the next head Alpha, that you’d passed out before he’d even had the chance to mate you.
‘Doesn’t make any sense why he’d even bother with her after that.’
‘Heard one of the Alphas over breakfast mention that they were close as pups. Head Alphas son probably imprinted on her years ago, none of us ever stood a chance against that type of bond.’
‘Seems unfair if you ask me, she’s not even grateful.’
They spoke so foul of you without knowing anything about you. To even dare question the innocent relationship you once had with Johnny. The friendship that you cherished and would sell your soul to have back. Everything’s different now, he’s different.
“I’m already dreaming of the pups you’ll have.” Your mother sighs happily, fluffing your hair to frame your face. “Johnny’s so handsome and strong, with his genes you will birth only strong pups.”
Pups.
Birth.
With Johnny.
Fear heightens in your stomach similar to a ticking time bomb, sensing your imminent doom as the elders come to escort you to the Alphas sector where the ritual will take place. They wear pleased smiles, cheerful as they drag you along and bring you to what can only come straight out of nightmares.
Alphas stagger around, eyeing you curiously as you’re brought to stand in the middle where a large lifted platform covered with cushions and furs has been set up. It’s worse than the hunt, multiple predatory eyes burn into your skin, gathering closer to get a good look at the flimsy garment doing a poor job of hiding your ample curves. Growls and grunts fly around you, trapping you with nowhere to go as they circle around and barricade you, shortening your breath the more imprisoned you begin to feel.
“J-Johnny?” You ask hesitantly, gaze stuck to your feet, too anxious at the thought of meeting eyes with any of the unknown Alphas around.
“I’m here.” A soft tone ripples up your spine, standing straight and pulling your shoulders back as he takes a hold of your elbow and turns you to face him. “Look at me.”
Slowly lifting your head up you see him, warm eyes and a soft smile intended to comfort you. He stands before you, moving in closer to wrap around your waist. “You’re nervous.”
Sniffling, you nod, embarrassed that every Alpha in the pack you’re meant to lead side by side with the one currently holding you tight will see you defiled for the very first time in mere minutes. “It’s just you and me right now, got that? Don’t even think about anything else. No one else exists, only us.” 
As much as you wish to believe that to be true, your ears can’t tune out the whistles and jeers coming from every side, biting on your lip and shaking your head, you reach for the Alphas shoulders to hide your face in his chest. “Can’t.. they’re everywhere.”
“I said look at me Omega.” He speaks more sternly, not moving to force you, but waiting for your head to raise and return to his still lovingly warm gaze. “You will not take your eyes off of me, do you hear me? You’re mine, you are only to look at me.”
Without using his Alpha voice he still manages to make your chest tighten, stomach churning anxiously as you nod slowly and he bends closer until your foreheads are pressed together. “I’ve been waiting for this.”
A part of you wants to scream, consider running only to be tackled down by a militia of powerful Alphas, but the other part of you swoons, reminded of the days you craved nothing more than to be by Johnny’s side and ripped your own heart to pieces once you realized the inevitable fate you’d been dealt.
“…for how long, Alpha?” You ask, barely above a whisper, fluttering his eyes in surprise.
“Forever.” He whispers, nose brushing against yours. “I’d wait an eternity for you.”
“You’ll take care of me Alpha?” You question cautiously, lips barely grazing his plump pout. “Make me yours to protect?”
“Always have.” Johnny states, licking your upper lip with closed eyes. He blinks slowly, reaching to cup your cheeks and dip his mouth to yours. “And I always will.”
It may not be ideal nor how you ever allowed yourself to imagine, but as the Alphas lips meld to yours, the tension weighing on your back dissipates. Easing into his dominant touch, you fall into the kiss easily. Every worry and silent wishful hope lets out a sigh of relief throughout your body, dragging your arms up higher to cling around his neck and deepen the kiss.
This time your lips planted together unlocks what you never knew you needed. The Omega inside of you quells instantaneously, rolling around with what can only he a giant smile now that your Alpha finally seems satisfied. The two of you rejoice, drawing him in deeper to grant your tongue access inside the delicious cavern of his mouth. If only a kiss can ignite this much in you, you can only shake as you imagine what more your conjoined bodies can release.
“I’ve got you baby.” Johnny says softly against your lips, for your ears only. “No one else exists.” He repeats, calming the tremble rolling up and down your spine with tender pets. “Your first time?”
You nod, skin flushed with goosebumps as your nerves skyrocket and missile launch to the sky erupting each and every worry you’ve ever had. The Alphas never had to be concerned with any inexperience. Always taken care of with various concubines in preparation for the day they’d have to race for a mate. Johnny knew exactly what to do with you, how to use your body and pleasure himself, only heightening your anxiety.
“You trust me don’t you?” He continues to whisper, brushing against your now swollen lips. “Trust that your Alpha will make you feel good, you’ll always reach your pleasure first with me.”
“Can I trust you Alpha?” You ask for further affirmation, sliding your hands beneath the leather furs draped over his shoulders. 
“Have I ever lied to you?” 
Without answering, you push the furs off, eyes going wide at the sight of ink carved onto his skin. Immediately you reach to run the tips of your fingers across the raised flesh, poked through with sterilized needles and squid ink, half scarred from the forced injury to create the permanent markings. “Is that?”
“You.”
It’s as if you’ve woken up in Johnny’s cabin once more, short of breath as you trace over the lithe wolf prowling along a tree branch between leaves. Large golden flecks stare back at you, running your touch over the leaves as the Omega tattooed on his skin almost watches your movements. “Me?”
“My Omega.”
Grasping your wrist he drags your hand higher to the path of flowers blooming open on his shoulder. “My Omega made of honeysuckle and snow coated grass. As sweet as Autumn and fierce as Winter.”
“Johnny..”
Nights of clenching your eyes shut, pretending to ignore the Alphas eyes appearing in your dreams, shove aside the warmth you sought out from the memory of his touch. Every night and day kept apart had taken more of a toll on both of you than either could have realized, desperate to be close as you sink into his chest and wrap around him with a tight hug. “Alpha.”
“I know.” The gentle tone he keeps with you could erase any fear, comforted by the scent that had been suffocating you. Taking deep long inhales you finally let him in, head hazy as the Alphas scent combines with yours. “Never take your eyes off of me Omega.”
He means it, tempted to use his Alpha voice to manipulate you to follow his orders. It’s hard enough to tune out the whispers and groans that surround you from the crowd gathered around as he begins to strip your flimsy tunic away and slowly takes in every inch of your exposed skin, quietly cursing under his breath. “Beautiful, you’re so beautiful.”
Every touch is soft, voice hushed for only your ears to pick up on, gaze lit up full of love that you can feel each time your eyes meet. Nerves prickle under the drag of his finger, softly gliding down your stomach to the tops of your thighs to part you open, swallowing down a loud deep breath. Embarrassment twitches your knees, wanting to slam them shut as the Alphas lowers to get a close up look and curls his biceps around your thighs. “The most perfect Omega, aren’t you pretty?”
Slick gushes between your folds, shaking from the tips of your fingers to your toes as your peer down between your thighs. Johnny’s eyes shoot up, lowering his thick lips to your center. The invitation of your warm glistening cunt is enough to have him groaning, unintentionally teasing the hood of flesh hiding your clit. Pouty pressed together lips flatten and kiss the bundle of nerves, lighting triggers up your calves and thighs for more slick to drip out onto the Alphas chin grazing across your awaiting entrance.
Given any other circumstance, including the one you could have ended up in, he would have had you present on all fours and fucked you like a proper Omega slut. Alpha urges roar for him to hurry it up, enough to worship your cunt. Ignoring his wolf's demands, he moves lower to kiss at your entrance, slurping up the sweet sticky syrupy slick for the direct source. Burying his nose in to snort your aroused scent this up close. He mouths sloppily at your hole, not even to get you off yet, but to finally have a taste of his dreams. A taste of what he could only imagine for years.
Nothing would ever be able to compare or come close to the heavenly taste of you. 
“My Omega, so sweet. Taste so fucking sweet, pretty pretty girl.” His chins doused with your gleaming arousal when he decides to finally come up from air at the sound of your moans turning into impatient whines. Jerking against his mouth desperately, needing something inside. He can feel it, the frustration coming from both of your wolves, attacking you from inside out to mate mate mate.
The Alphas breath fans across your now sweaty neck, body heat rising at accelerated speed the more he teasingly tortured you. Licking up your scent gland, he drags a way to your ear, biting on the lobe softly. “My innocent Omega wants Alphas cock so badly? Rutting against me like some horny pup.”
And it’s true, without thought your thighs wrap around one of his long muscular legs, jamming your bare core up and down the flexed limb. Hair grazes your slick cunt, making a mess of wet down the Alphas thighs as your hips speed up chasing after a relief only he can fulfill.
“Alpha, I need to.. be closer.” Every and each bone in your body rattles, craving and needing to feel him inside of you. Johnny tenses, eyebrows wrinkling together as he grabs onto your hips and forces you to stop.
“You’re gonna give me a hard time with that pretty ass and pussy, aren’t you?” He says through gritted teeth, eyes fluttering shut. “I’ll fuck you, fuck you full of my pups. Keep you satisfied until all you know is how to take your Alphas cock. Is that what you want?”
Thick palms slide beneath your back, gliding lower to cup and squeeze your ass, encouraging your hips to push down on his thigh again and plead for more. Vigorous grinds of your hips force him to lodge his knees down, shifting the furs laid out beneath you. He grunts, rasping out breaths shakily. “Fuck baby, get it nice and wet for me. Keep doing it just like that.”
As if to warn you, he grips your ass roughly, jamming his hardened clothed length against your hip for you to really feel what you’re about to take. A heavy hot thick rod ruts from your lower belly to your hip, a thin garment separating your lower halves, bowing your spine up pathetically. “Alpha—that, please, please, g-give me!”
A round of groans sound around you, quickly reminding you of where you are, but not long enough before Johnny sits up between your thighs, bringing your hands to his hips. 
“This what you want?” He asks damn near mockingly. Licking at his lips akin to a thirsty rabid wolf. 
“Alpha—want, want it!” 
Hisses, growls, harsh ragged breaths turn louder the more you whine, resisting your Omegas curious urge to glance around. Johnny cups your chin to keep you focused, sleek eyes melting your gaze. “What do you want? Say it clear for your Alpha.”
The size of him above you makes you feel so small, curling into yourself as he positions close between your thighs to jam his clothed size against your drenched cunt. Johnny trembles at the contact, having to sneak a look down as you soak through his light fabric cover up and the shape of his cockhead fully pokes through, pressing the tip to your swollen clit. “Want this?” He mutters, curling the fabric around his cock to slap down heavily between your thighs.
Jerking up in response you let out a howling scream, arms shooting out to grab his biceps. “Please please!”
“Say it!” He growls ferociously, slapping the heavy meat down with audible loud wet claps of skin hitting skin. The contact rushes blood down, chubbing your pussy up in preparation to squeeze the life out of your Alphas dick. 
“Want your cock Alpha! Wan-want you to breed me, pup me!” 
If only you had anything else on your mind other than the Alpha burying inside of you, you’d hear the uproar of feral cries set off around you. Each Alpha willing to sell their soul to be in Johnny’s position right now. They watch on drooling, snarling, rubbing themselves over their garments as your Alpha sits up proudly and strips his lower half free of the fabric. His thick cock bounces up, slapping loudly against the flat planes of his ripped stomach. The visual of Johnny’s chest rising and falling rapidly has slick pouring out of you obscenely, toes curling as you take in the full mass of him. Clenching up as small as you can as you envision what can only be compared to your forearm in size penetrating you.
“Alpha, s’too big..” you say wantonly, still wanting to feel him split you open. Still needy for your Alphas cock to break through your cervix and fatten your belly full of cum.
“I know, baby.” Laying down on you without resting his weight, his cock pressed against your stomach. The tip slotted a few inches above your navel as a preview of how deep he’ll be inside of you soon. Maneuvering his fingers between your thighs, he nips at your jaw, murmuring praises about how wet you are.
“It’s so loud, so warm.” Johnny sighs, sucking on your earlobe. “So slippery between my fingers.”
Tapping at your entrance, he nudges your thighs open further, gliding two fingers in past the ring of muscle that feels as if you’re trying to bite them right off of his hand. Cursing again, he sucks in a ragged breath, licking swirls along your ear. Thumb making way to your clit to loosen up the clamp your cunt has around his fingers. A few meticulous rubs and flicks combined with his hot mouth have you relaxing, shoulders laying flat as he begins to scissors inside of you.
“Feel that Omega? Your pretty tiny fucking pussy.” He grits, fingers beginning to jam in and out of you at heightened speed. “Feel so tight and warm around me, gripping me so good baby.”
Johnny’s nasty words make your mind spin, head thrown back watching the sky above you turn upside down. The sound of your gushing slick louder than anything, muting all but the guttural groans coming from your Alpha. Pleasure scorches throughout your body, reaching for his wrist with a trembling saliva covered bottom lip and watery eyes. “Please, enough. Alpha, I need it, need you.”
He hears you loud and clear, tongue toying with his lip for a moment before drawing free from your cunt. As much as he wants to make this easy for you, there’s no way. Both of you too insatiable and driven by your hunger to be one. To feel conjoined, even if you know it will hurt.
Slowly stroking his cock, he watches your pussy in a trance-like state. Stomach muscle twitching, taking sharp breaths as he rubs a smear of pre-cum around the tip. Dipping his fingers between your sensitive pussy lips again because he can’t help himself, too enthralled by the gush of slick that bubbles out messy and loud. It’s all for him, slowly collecting the wad of slick to coat his cock with like some type of silent apology for what he’s about to do to you.
The twitch your tiny little hole gives in response only makes him groan, setting the head right against your slit to admire the difference in size for a minute.
“Perfect.” Johnny whispers, rubbing his thumb down your clit to the outer rim of your cunt pulsing against his length. He can’t stop his hips from jerking, slowly thrusting to watch your muscle stretch, fighting back the much too large intrusion trying to invade and make a home for himself. The fat tip of his size throbs, pushing it in until he feels your hole snap around him, hissing and biting his lip. “Babies first time, just for me..”
It’s dizzying for him, almost too dizzying to hear your rushed intakes of air, to see your eyes clenched shut, fists balled up on your chest, and your teeth grinding to not scream. Johnny reaches for your forearms, pushing them down for leverage. Slowly he plunges in more, managing to get a few more inches in before pausing to take deep breaths. “You okay baby?”
Nodding furiously, you curse at him to continue. Distracting yourself from the pain by focusing on your breathing. You have to be good, prove yourself worthy, not only for your Alpha, but for the pack of onlookers. Determined to take him, you let out a moan and force your hips up into a swivel, further sliding his length inside.
A slew of curses spring from his lips in shock, reveling in the pressure and tightness enveloping half of his length. “Want it so badly, don’t you.” He says more to himself, moving to grab your hips and hold them down. “But you’ll do as I say.”
He pulls out, a lewd loud pop resounding as Johnny lifts his hips back enough to rub his length up and down. The fat tip of his size purposely nudging and bumping your swollen clit. Each drag against your sensitive pussy further ruining you, sobbing out loud without a care. The hold on your hips keeps you from moving, letting out a desperate shout as Johnny lays his palm flat on your stomach, taking his cock in hand to slap down on against your clit.
“Alpha! N-no!”
“Take it.” He groans, struck by the thick we s of slick that cling to his length with each heavy smack. Emitting pornographic squelching sounds for everyone of the Alphas he will lead someday to hear, to memorize, to know that they will never have a taste of you, let alone ever experience this again.
With a pleased smirk, the engorged tip of his length meets your entrance again. Pussy throbbing like a wounded animal as the Alpha finally presses in again, slowly breaching your hole to make you feel every overwhelming sensation all over again. The pain subsides as pleasure and desperation takes over, incessantly starving to feel him stuff you full. You sob, reaching out for something as he leans in to bracket your head with thick biceps. Finding solace in his shoulders, you claw at his smooth skin, arching up to bite down a scream into his muscle.
It’s heat inducing, arching against the Alpha to get him deeper inside of you. Long thick cock stretching you with each new inch added, too good once fully sheathed inside. You can’t stop whining, licking at Johnny’s smooth pronounced collarbone. Split open by the only one you’ve ever wanted, something about it swells your chest. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders to feel even closer. 
“Alpha, please—“ you start to wail, drooling on his neck, planting haphazard messy kisses.
“What are you begging for, huh?” He chokes out, moving to wrap around your shoulders in the same manner, knowing that your Omega needs to be close. That your heart needs to feel his beating against it. “You’re so tight for me baby. Gonna ruin that perfect pussy you have, make it mine.”
“Ugh!” Dropping your neck back, hot tears fill your eyes, raining down your cheeks as he begins to thrust in and out. 
“All mine, my pretty gorgeous Omega.” He moans, fully pulling out only to ram back in and sending your back arching up with a shout. Johnny can’t slow down, chasing after your release to get to his. Falling into a rough rhythm, he thrusts hard enough to have you both sliding up with each ramming force of his hips. The clenches you give around his cock accompanied by drool coated moans only encouraging him to push in harder, make you taste his cock in the back of your throat from here.
“Alpha..”
“Yeah, what did I say baby? Keep those pretty eyes on me baby. Keep looking at me.” Clutching your neck, he presses your foreheads together. Cock drilling deep past your tight hole. It’s not completely without pain, snapping around the intrusion of his thick long girth. Johnny works hard to keep his own eyes open, consumed by the way your pouty lips fall apart with a moan, how your eyes roll up and back to him over and over again. “Opening up so so good for Alpha. Feel good baby?”
Gliding a hand between your bodies, he lowers closer to your chest, pushing his arm lower to rest the back of your head along the dip of his elbow. Fingers find their way to your clit, circling the bundle of nerves with another thrust, easing more inches past your convulsing heat.
“Ahh—!” Incoherently you begin to nod, head spinning, thighs aching around his hips. The pinch to your clit shoots up your spine, lifting your butt up only to be slammed back down into place with another powerful thrust. Johnny curses, sucking at spit around his tongue as he lifts enough to watch you take the last inch of his cock again.
“Oh shit baby.” He croons, biting down on his lip at the sight of his cock completely disappearing inside of you like nothing. The way you take it only as an Omega can. It’s indescribable to feel your heat suck around him, the way your walls clamp on his size like wet firm kisses. Pangs of pleasure throb up his length, cockhead pressed to your cervix at this angle. “Can’t believe—“ the Alpha drags his slick coated fingers to your lips, pushing them down on your tongue, teeth gritting. “Can’t believe I’m inside of you.”
That awakens your lost mind, licking between his digits as he circles down into you and lets you truly feel how big he is. Each twist of his hips feels like a delicious new stretch, opening your cunt up to always be ready for your Alpha to fill you up. He sighs, smiling and pressing in to capture your lips. Cock thrumming inside of you letting you get used to the sheer size of him. Distracting you with wet and messy glides of his tongue, he continues to slur between sucks, drawing your tongue out with his suctioning lips. 
“Such a pretty fucking pussy baby, best cunt ever.” Johnny sounds lost himself, lapping at the combination of your spit smearing between your chins. “Tight, so tight for your Alpha.”
All you can do is whine and agree between his overpowering kisses, failing to grab his tongue with yours. Johnny controls everything, the way you kiss, the way you fuck, the way your body reacts to him. Infiltrating your brain, lungs, heart, cunt, filling every empty hole inside of you with himself, staking claim to his Omega the way only a real Alpha can.
“Pl-please, Alpha, please,” you start to beg, throwing your limbless arms around his shoulders to weakly throw your hips into a circle. Turning desperate to really feel him, to really get fucked by your Alpha.
He fully lets go, tearing past his own resistance to fuck you full, hard and fast. Wet sounds clap around you, jostled by each punching thrust, swearing you can feel him as deep as your lungs from the way you gag on spit and choke on your breath. Weakly tapping at his shoulders you lose it, clamping on the Alphas size hard enough to make him stop for a moment. Johnny growl’s animalistically, pounding through the splash of slick threatening to push his size out from the force of your powerful orgasm. He keeps fucking you through it, looming large over your body going lifeless beneath him.  
“Knot, g-gonna knot baby.” The veins lining his long throat pop out under sweat glistening flesh, dropping his nose to yours as his stomach convulses and he thrusts in all the way deep surely leaving your cervix bruised. “Fucking—-fu—ahh shit!”
It’s the most shattered he’s sounded, raspy and whiny, coming to a stop as the base of his length begins to expand. Swiping his lips against yours between panted breaths.
“S’too.. can’t.” You beg, lightly tapping his chest. It’s useless, both of you too strung out by the peak of your pleasure. The only option left is to wait it out and grit your teeth through the burn stretching against your hole.
Right as you feel every last inch of your body go limp, Johnny securely cups behind your neck, licking across the top row of his teeth practically salivating at the sight of your extended throat arched up so invitingly. The knot thrums against your walls, painful stretch burning as he adjusts to lower his chest to yours and whisper against your lips. “My Omega.”
The bite hurts initially, gnawing deep through the flesh covering your scent gland. Long canines dig through your veins, sucking at the blood that gushes past his bite. Memories of the first time you met the Alpha flash behind your eyes, weakly sinking your nails into his shoulders as tears rush from your eyes and everything he’s ever wanted to say to you flies around your mind. The days you spent together, the times he always let you win just to see you smile, and the frantic need to protect you. Pain washes away along with the tears rolling down your face, whimpering and clutching onto him as hard as you’re able to.
“Johnny..”
The pitiful sounds that come from his throat remind you of a distressed pup, lapping up your bite aggressively as guilt claws at his chest seeing you grow weaker beneath him.
“S’okay Alpha..” you mumble, sliding your hands up his neck to hold his cheeks. The difference in size seems more daunting now, stuck on his knot that hasn’t deflated one bit, the visual of your small hands thumbing his wet cheeks feels right. Feels as if you’ll never have to fend for yourself as each emotion and reassuring sense of devotion fills your head. 
Johnny’s your Alpha, destined to lead, destined to be yours.
“Hurt you..” he barely whispers, thumb caressing the mark on your neck solemnly. Fighting between his pride and lust to prioritize what you could be going through. “Sorry..”
“No no,” tucking your chin, you capture his thumb to suckle on, head shaking softly. “Love you.”
The look that illuminates his features can only be described as one of love. Adoration and admiration, relief, lightly tipping the corners of his lips upward and releasing the tension pinching at his ears. “Love you, my mate.” He says proudly, knot gone down enough to fix your positions and lift you onto his lap. “Let's go home.”
Without allowing you time to look around, he holds onto your bottom, keeping you impaled in place with his knot as his thighs burn to stand, free hand petting the back of your head and easing your nose to rest against his scent gland, successfully masking your eyes from the Alphas that stand around drooling, hard cocks pulsing, desperate to have a piece of you for themselves. With a last look of warning at the group, he turns and takes the back trail back to his cabin, shushing your whines.
“Almost there baby.”
“We’re going home?” You ask drowsily, clinging onto his shoulders as if you fear the idea of falling, knowing the Alpha would never allow for such a thing.
“Our home.” He states, rounding a corner to the back entrance of his cabin to avoid allowing anyone else that may be roaming around to see you in this position. “You did such a good job for me back there pretty.”
“I did?” Warmth fills your stomach, brows knitting as your hips roll against him on their own to feel the Alphas half deflated knot push past your aching entrance. He hisses, cupping your ass firmly on the way to the bed you rested in yesterday, already soaked with your scent, weakening his knees as he lays you down and hovers above you, fist planted by your sides. 
“So good for me, my perfect Omega.”
Reaching up for his shoulder, you trace the wolf gazing down at you once again, head tilted curiously. “Has it always been me? Really?”
Johnny’s eyebrows gather together furiously, nodding rapidly, clicking his tongue annoyed. “You know that it has.”
“It’s nice to hear.” You smile, biting on your lip. 
“Yeah?” Lowering down, he thrusts the rest of his size in to fill you with every inch, knot gone down enough to shove his length in deep once again. “And me? I want to hear you say it.”
Damp strands of hair hang around your face, framing the Alphas sharp cheekbones, long eyes that stare down at you obsessively. 
“It’s always been you.” You admit, arching up for a kiss. 
Already knowing that is one thing, but hearing you say it strikes a nerve, growling from deep in his chest as he reaches to draw your hands above your head and teases your lips with barely there kisses.
“You’re mine.” Small pecks litter your top and bottom lip, lowering to your chin and jaw, trailing a pathway up to your ear and back as he continues to repeat mineminemine.
“Mine to have.” Another kiss.
“Mine to keep.” Another kiss.
“Mine to save.” Another kiss.
“And mine to ruin.” The last kiss steals your breath, bred full again by the next thrust, only held in place by his solid grip on your forearms.
The Alpha made good on his promise to take care of you, fucked and bred night after night to birth the strongest members of your pack. 
Occasionally you’d find your way back to the forest, now with Johnny by your side helping you climb trees that you insisted on being able to do on your own.
“It’s nice up here.” He hums, laying back on the large part of the base with you on his chest, stroking up and down your spine soothingly.
“It’s nicer with you.”
“Yeah?” His eyebrow lifts, tapping your chin to look at him. “No more running away from me then?”
“You’re here with me, aren’t you?” You tease, pretending to bite his finger.
“That’s my girl.”
・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⋆ ・
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redrreign · 1 year
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cannot believe we're having another fucking Situation we literally JUST had one last month
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fangswbenefits · 11 months
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Another Chance
𓂅 𓄹 Summary: You go into labour and all you know is that you need Miguel more than ever.
𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
Mentions of childbirth. Dad Miguel. Comfort. Fluff. Happy father’s day to the best of the best!
“I'M GONNA KILL MIGUEL O’HARA!”
Usually, that sort of threat would send everyone that was standing around you into an uproar. But given the extremely specific set of circumstances, they merely exchanged understanding glances, returning their attention to the task at hand.
“Jess… I’m going to kill him.”
The pain of the contractions felt too unbearable and gritting out empty threats was the only relief you could find right now.
“You have my blessing,” she nodded, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "But for now, we need to deliver the baby."
It was too early. This wasn't supposed to happen right now... not like this.
A spider-nurse approached you with a fetal heart monitor to strap around your belly. Your already accelarated heart nearly imploded at the sight, fearing what the machine might reveal.
"Jess... I can't do this..." your voice broke.
Where is he...
Where is Miguel?
Your friend glared at you with kind eyes, swipping a piece of cloth along your sweat-drenched forehead. "You can and you will."
As another contraction tore through your body, you barely managed to grab the railings of your bed with a huff of pain. The spider-nurse was done setting the monitor and was now probing your arm for a vein.
"Where is Miguel?" you managed through laboured pants. "Lyla... where is he?"
The AI's hologram appeared from the watch on your wrist, that Jess promptly removed. You gave her a confused look, but it was probably for the better.
"He should be here soon. The anomaly is—" Lyla was cut off immediately by Jess.
The heart monitor was switched on and the room went suddenly eerily too quiet, save for your gasps.
Tense seconds rolled by that felt like excrutiating hours, until the sound of a thudding heart was heard.
"Slightly accelerated heartrate going at 191 beats per minute," spider-doctor informed. "The baby might be in distress."
Panic took over. "Do something! Miguel!"
The team attending you were working relentlessly, but no consolation came. The pain was borderline unbearable and your fear for your child's life.
... and Miguel was not here.
"You need to push," one spider-nurse said.
"Push," Jess urged. "You're doing great," she added with a warm smile.
She kept trying her best to soothe and guide you through the untimely turmoil, but it wasn't until your eyes caught a flash of two sets of claws tearing through the barrier of time and space in the middle of the room that you allowed yourself to slump back into your bed.
A cry of relief broke from deep within you as a fully suited Miguel O'hara emerged through the portal, sprinting to your side. The mask vanished instantly as he framed your face with both hands.
"I'm here."
You started sobbing uncontrollably when he planted a kiss to your forehead.
"Boss, she's fully dilated," spider-doctor spoke. "We really need her to push now."
"Miguel... this wasn't..." you stammered, gritting your teeth as the crescendo of another contraction began. "Where... I—”
He hushed you and anchored you through the pain. "You have to push, okay?"
Compared to a few minutes ago, Miguel's presence was nothing short of absolute comfort. But it wasn't enough the push away the fear that had overtaken you.
Jess was still by your side, whispering encouraging words as the staff worked in between your spread legs. Your vision blurred momentarily and you felt the sudden and overwhelming urge to push.
"This is all your... fault," you seethed at Miguel.
"On that much we can agree," he said softly, his thumbs brushing away the tears that mixed with sweat down your cheeks. "Push."
Blaming him was just a quick way to ease some of the frustration. He wasn't to blame. You had both wanted this.
"I can see the head!" you heard someone announce.
Miguel offered his hand for you to grip as you pushed. "I'll break it," you warned.
"You won't."
"He deserves it," Jess said teasingly.
But Miguel was right. As strong as you were — and the strength that women in labour were capable of mustering — you wouldn't even cause a dent in him. He was strong enough for the both of you.
"What´s taking so long?" his faint voice filled your ears.
"Almost there."
Suddenly, he had cradled your face in his large hands once more, forcing your eyes to fix on his. "You can do this. I'm so proud of you," he said, pecking the tip of your nose.
The air in your lungs was suddenly forced out with a finally throat-ripping grunt.
"It's here!"
You collapsed, feeling Miguel's arm promptly offering support on your back. A screeching sound of distress reverberated through the walls.
"It's a girl," one spider-nurse informed.
Even through your hazy eyes you were able to see Miguel's face, eyes transfixed on the little squirming baby that was being placed on your chest.
She was crying her heart out as someone who has been ripped from all the comfort and security a place could offer.
But now she had you and Miguel.
"She takes after you," you teased with a faint smile. "Already being so dramatic."
He chuckled, eyes permanently glued to the wailing baby. "I'm not dramatic. Just intense."
"Yes. Intensely dramatic.”
Miguel fell silent as he stroked a finger along the back of one soft tiny hand, miniscule fingers wrapping around it reflexively. The cries stopped abruptly.
His face softened and you wondered if he was about to tear up. He had longed for this for such a long time.
"Miguel?" Jessica said, covering your child with a towel.
He seemed too lost in his own thoughts, glaring at his daughter in a way that overwhelmed you. Like it was meant to be.
"I'll be going now," she said, offering you both a warm smile before leaving.
Suddenly, you realised Miguel was inspecting each limb with utmost attention. "What are you doing?"
He cleared his throat, placing a tiny hand on the palm of his. "Oh... uh... just counting how many fingers and toes she has."
"All five?" you offered with a chuckle.
"All five."
"No talons?"
He glared at you as if taken aback, then smiled. "Maybe one day."
"Do you think she'll have your fangs?"
"Oh, I hope not," he said, slowly checking the baby's bare gums. "That would be painful."
You then allowed yourself to take in the sight of your now relaxed daughter that lay on top of you. The wispy beginnings of hair that covered the top of her head were dark. Babies don't tend to resemble either parent when they're born - or so Miguel had once told you - and you couldn't wait to find out.
"What if... she doesn't like me?" he whispered, caressing a puffy cheek.
You almost chuckled, but he was dead serious. "She'll love you."
He leaned to place a kiss to your temple. "Thank you."
"For what?" you asked, feeling your heart bursting with absolute adoration for him.
"For giving me another chance at being a father."
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Masterlist
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estrellami-1 · 5 months
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Ten Minutes
Didn’t love this when I first wrote it. Left it in my drafts for a LONG freakin’ time. Found it again and no longer care, so here yall go; have fun! Probably not a part 2 to this one.
Steve takes a breath, then another, as he waits for the line to connect. He grits his teeth, feeling eyes on him. He does his best to ignore them.
“Munson residence, if you’re calling about the murders I’ve been absolved of, try going to hell instead.”
“I need you to pick me up.”
A pause. “Stevie?”
Steve takes another breath. Tries to unclench his jaw. “Please.”
“Yeah, of course, I’ll be right there- what-”
“My parents are in town.”
Another pause. “I’ll be there in ten. Try not to kill them.”
Steve laughs humorlessly. “Just hurry.”
“Ten minutes,” Eddie says, and hangs up.
Steve sighs, places the phone in its socket, and turns back to face his parents.
His mother is narrowing her eyes at him. “Who was that?”
“A friend,” he says lightly.
“Who, that Hagan boy?” His father scoffs.
“No. Not Tommy. I haven’t spoken to him in years.”
“Oh, Steve,” his mother tuts. “Always so dramatic. We’ve not even been gone a year-”
Steve laughs. It sounds hollow. “Try four years,” he informs her. “And three concussions. Did you hear about the mall two years ago? Or the boy who went missing four years ago?” He shakes his head when his mother looks at him blankly. “That’s what I thought.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” his father snaps. “And don’t you dare speak to your mother in that tone again, Steven. You’re still a child and I won’t hesitate to reprimand you as such.”
“I’m twenty,” Steve says evenly. “I’ll be twenty-one in five months.” He crosses his arms. “The last time you saw me, I was a freshman in high school. I’ve graduated. I found jobs. Lost some friends and made some better ones.”
“And what of that girl you were dancing around?” His mother asks. “Karen’s daughter?”
“We’re friends,” he says shortly, then moves through the kitchen, to the stairs. “Excuse me.”
“No,” his father says. “You’re not excused. Where do you think you’re going?”
Steve turns, one hand on the bannister, to look at the man who had terrified him the last time he’d seen him. It’s funny what interdimensional threats will do. “To pack a bag. I’m not going to stay here while you are.”
“And if I were to say we’re staying for good?”
Steve laughs. “Dad, you’ve said that before. Multiple times, actually. Those words mean nothing to me anymore.”
“And where are you planning on staying?” His mother asks. “Honestly, Steven, I thought we raised you to make better decisions than this.”
“Oh, I see. So it was raising me when I woke up at nine years old to discover you’d left and I’d have to find my own way to school. Then a week later when I had to ride my bike to the store to buy groceries. At eleven, when I looked the school counselor in the eye and said you’d be back soon. I had to go to my own parent-teacher conferences. At fifteen, trying to figure out high school classes. At seventeen when I got my first concussion. At eighteen when I signed my first legally-binding NDA. You hadn’t abandoned me. You were raising me.” He sighs, shakes his head. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”
He makes his way up to his room and packs as much as he can. Clothes. Vinyls. The box of cash under the loose floorboard. Then into the bathroom. Toothbrush, deodorant, even his shampoo. Doubles back into his room to grab a bracelet off his nightstand; one El made him.
He looks around, grabs the nail bat, and makes his way downstairs. His mother gasps when she sees him. “What on earth is that?”
He looks at the bat. Adjusts his grip, twirls it around. “An NDA.”
The doorbell rings. Steve grabs his bags and moves towards it. “If you walk out that door, you’ll never walk back in.”
“Fine by me,” Steve says. He grabs his keys, tosses the house key at his father, and pockets the rest.
He opens the door and grins at Eddie, who’s looking at him worriedly. “Hey, Eds. Ready to go?”
Eddie blinks. “Um. Sure? Are you okay?”
“Sure,” Steve shrugs. “I’m getting kicked out. If you don’t want to take me I’ll just go bug Robin. It’ll only be for a little while, though, just until I find a better job and an apartment or something.”
“Like hell Wayne’s gonna miss this chance,” Eddie grins. “You know you’re his favorite.”
Steve smiles back, tosses his things into the back of Eddie’s van. “I hoped you were gonna say that.”
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s3thwrit3sstuff · 7 months
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❝ I WANT THE YOU WHO WANTS ME AGAIN ❞
Gojo Satoru x male!reader | angst, unrequited love, arranged marriage, some comfort, in the end, | wc: 4.5 K | not proofread
warnings: death of a parent through sickness (unspecified), cheating (gojo with geto), r! goes through it (lmao), megumi is rooting for r!
masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's
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Perhaps at one point in your arranged marriage, you had loved Satoru but that’s all but vanished away when you see how he looked at Geto. Still, you provide comfort to your husband when he seeks you even if his six eyes (and soul) all bear to you that he does not see you. Satoru realizes too late that he cares for you - that he loves you. He despises your empty stare, he wants you back. He desperately wants you back.
authors note: i know i said i was taking a break but writing this made me feel a little bit better — cathartic almost. it's been in the drafts since last year anyways so might as well. (autumn leaves by bts inspired fic)
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It seemed as though even the clouds were pitying the sight before it. Grey and darkened, they gathered to block the sun as whispers of doubt combed through the trees surrounding the temple — they reach your ears despite the attempts of your mother. "Now, don't you look handsome". She tucks a stray lock of your hair behind your ear, pursing her lips at the look in your eyes. "(Y/N)". Her hands grasp at your face. The warmth of someone's hands on your cheek jitters your brain awake, and your pupils contract back into focus. "Have you been eating well, darling?" For a moment, your heart squeezes at her kind words. It's been so long since another had asked you that question so sincerely. The tears well but your hair sways as you shake your head, urging your cheeks to form a smile. "I'm alright, mom. Just getting over a cold". She brushes her thumb over your cheek then presses a kiss to your forehead. "My son". You're pulled into an embrace and suddenly you're little again — clinging to her after she had bandaged you up from your training session. Your eyelashes darkened as tears slip past them, hands trembling as you grip her tightly. "My beautiful son". Eventually, the sun sets but the rain continues to pour. The sounds of the raindrops are violent, accompanied by flashes of lightning and thunder it seemed as though the Gods were angry. Angry Gods do little to scare your father. He gazes at you coldly from where your head is laid upon your mother's lap. Defiantly, you avoid meeting his eyes as you relish in the fingers smoothing out your hair. "Your husband will not be pleased with this," your mother's glare is reproachful. "Our son has come to pay us a visit, his husband needn't worry about him," his nostrils flare and he looks as though he's about to go on another rant about image, expectations, manners, servitude. But before he could, the shoji door slides open. It's one of the servant girls, her bow immaculate you could see the swirl pattern of her hair growth. "Gojo Satoru has arrived, Master (L/N)" She's addressing your father, you know because you are now Master Gojo. The air is filled with expectations. The rain does little to muffle it. Pitying her back, you rise from your mother's lap. "Inform my husband I'll be out in a moment" She bows deeper and straightens her composure to slide the door close but freezes as you address her. "Is my husband alone?" When her mouth opens to form the syllables of Geto Suguru your eyes turn to the floor. You're unsure if she's finished her sentence but find very little fucks to give as you silence her with raise of your hand. Wordlessly, she bows and closes the door.
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"Ah, husband!" he slings his arm around your shoulder. His weight, his warmth, his presence — too casual it's an insult. You cared little for tradition, scoffing at it sometimes, but the way Satoru displays himself in front of your parents causes you to grit your teeth. Suguru shoes are in the peripheral of your vision, you will your gaze to the side.
Once upon a time, the four of you were friends. Satoru, Suguru, Shoko and you.
Those blue summers and warm winters as first-year sorcerers. Memories so bright and heartfelt others probably only see on movie screens. Then you were betrothed to Gojo Satoru, family stuff, expectations and duty, and everything the both of you roll your eyes at. A part of you had been elated. Blinded by the idea of marrying the boy your heart beats for. Sure, falling in love would have been preferred but despite the arranged marriage, you were thick as thieves. So, in your foolish daydreams, you'd sigh at the idea of you two falling in love. Shoko could only watch as your dreams crumble before you. She tried her best to be some sort of support — shocked when she spotted you smoking her cigarettes after a year into the marriage. "I never noticed the way they look at each other". Your words follow the stream of smoke and Shoko settles next to you with her elbows placed on the railings. "I mean, I knew but I just thought...I just thought he'd look at me the same one day". She is silent as you curl over the railing, shoulders jerking with silent sobs. "How foolish, huh?" She places a hand on your back, saying nothing as you wept.
Suguru greets your parents with more tact than your husband who is smiling ear-to-ear. "How was your mission, Gojo, Geto?" the way their surnames sounded made your jaw ache as you continued locking your jaw. Your husband is squeezing you to his side, like a friend. Satoru feels your shoulders stiffening and he loosens his grip to look down at you but you slip out from under him and hastily walk towards the car. "Young Master —" a servant gasps as he attempts to match your pace, the umbrella he holds barely shielding you as you feel your tears mix with the rain. "(Y/N)!" Suguru calls, catching up to you with his own umbrella and you feel searing guilt stab at your chest. Suguru had never been mean to you — he's been there for you through the years and despite your sudden avoidance of him here he was trying to ensure you remained dry. A clap of thunder muffles your sob, the only mercy the Gods are giving you, and you will yourself to pass Suguru. The car door is slammed shut in Suguru's face and before he can wonder the driver is driving off. He stands in shock, the servant that had been chasing you sharing his expression. Satoru tilts his head, hands in his pockets as he Suguru gives him a look of apprehension once he reaches him. Your parents — his in-laws — are apologizing. More so your mother. Your father's anger is palpable despite his puckering lips. "We'll get you another car, Gojo, Geto" your father calls for his personal driver
Satoru’s eyes — with that bright, heavenly, blue that put the sky to shame — linger on the fading signature of your aura. Suguru’s bangs stick to his forehead due to the rain and the sight of him alone has Satoru tear his gaze away. They land on Suguru who offers a furrow of his brows and so Satoru reaches to wipe the wetness away.
“Hey!” the action is rough, anything but romantic. Suguru feels like a cat being pet too roughly — with their skin stretching back and eyes growing wide — and so he smacks Satoru's hands away.
Friendly. Playful. Banter. Boys being boys.
Your mother squints her eyes nonetheless. She had heard that Satoru had been less than willing to marry. Her husband had thought it was his hubris but bowed until his forehead met the floor of the Gojo clan’s home. Their name was no laughing matter — a strong line of curse users much like the Zenin’s.
But Gojo Satoru was sought after by many the second he turned 16 — the marriage proposals flooded in like a tsunami.
He refused them all. Except the (L/N)'s.
She had thought it was the dowery. Perhaps, even the fact that an alliance would soothe whatever ill tides their clans had once had. Or maybe it really was just a stroke of luck her son got along so well with Satoru while attending Jujutsu High (her husband had enrolled (Y/N) only when he heard whispers of Satoru attending).
But fear gripped her heart as Suguru tugged on Satoru’s ear.
Had he accepted...just so he could remain close to his true love?
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“I’m sorry”. You pause the wiping motion, delicately lifting your head as your mother’s cloudy gaze floats aimlessly in the room. You were used to her nonsensical speeches, her random bursts of conversations and weepy apologies. It's been a year since the sickness unexpectedly came over her and you suppose that is what most people do when they’re close to death's door. Confessions of this and that just shooting out in a weak attempt to right old wrongs.
“Nothing to be sorry for, mother”. She places a hand over yours and squeezes. How frail. When has your mother looked so frail?
“Come home, be a (L/N) again”, confusion contorts your face. “Mother, whatever you’ve heard is all unfounded. Rumours. Father has dealt with them”, despite her fragility her fingers squeeze your wrists so tightly it forces your own to release the damp cloth.
“Then say that to me. Look into my eyes and tell me that bastard husband of yours is better than mine, that he’s not off loving another while you rot here”.
Colour bleeds into those lifeless eyes. She feels that same squeeze she felt when she saw Satoru wipe away the rain from Suguru’s skin rather than your tears just a year ago.
Just as quickly as they appear, that dullness returns in your eyes and she reaches to hold your face but you stand.
“Father is cheating on you?”
She’s lost you.
You walk to dip the cloth into the bowl, and your shoulders are too heavy for a 17-year-old boy. Her precious son, so forlorn and withdrawn; humiliated by the society he was in for being inadequate and unworthy.
Perhaps she deserved those titles, sick and bedridden and dying, it was no surprise that her husband is seen courting younger ladies. But not you, not her son.
“He’s no shame, you know your father. His pride comes before all”. It elicits a dry chuckle from you.
Then you suppose Satoru had more in common with your father than you knew.
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The Star Plasma vessel incident, you can't believe it's been a year.
A year after that man that killed that Amanai and Kuroi and Satoru.
You remembered dropping to your knees as he admitted it out loud with such an ugly smile, shaking your head in disbelief as anger swelled within you.
Before you could even think, even grieve and rage, Geto had beaten you to it. As you looked at him with his anger so visceral it came off of him in waves you felt your torn heart crumble into pieces. It felt good to dish out that anguish on Fushiguro Toji even if you ended up eating dirt.
“Wasn’t he your husband?” Toji placed his foot on your neck. “Damn, he treats you that badly or something? This freak put up a better fight”, that day you had surprised Toji by smiling with your teeth all bloody.
“He did, didn’t he?” Your laughter bubbles and you choke on your own blood.
Toji knocked you out after a scoff.
That still wouldn’t have killed you as much. The torn pieces of your heart were still salvageable.
But then.
Then.
As Satoru came back. Warm and alive. Bloody but grinning. He did not race to you, he did not even look at you. To his credit, he simply stood there with his arms wide open.
But then.
Then.
Geto’s the one to race into them.
Ah.
Right.
Shoko was shocked to see you in her smoking spot. She hadn’t even seen you as Satoru was whisked away by the Gojo clan, only spotting Suguru following along. None had wondered where Satoru's husband was; Suguru was always next to him, so there was no void that one could spot.
“Are you alright?”
The darkness in your eyes makes her flinch.
You were dead.
She’s been around enough of death and you were dead.
Your once warm, cheerful, eyes now devoid of anything.
She held you as you cried, not knowing what more she could say to help you.
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“Leave me alone”, Satoru is under the covers. He has been for days now.
Grieving.
Grieving Geto.
“Husband”, you coax. It was once a funny joke. The laughter you shared as the both of you exchanged formal titles of your marriage. It hurt to know that it truly was a joke for Satoru - not for you.
Satoru grits his teeth. His eyes were rimmed red, he himself was surprised they weren’t swelled up. His throat was scratchy, his skin uncomfortable and untended from his refusal to get up. His hair was tousled, unkept and disarrayed. It's been a week since Geto's betrayal and Satoru had been laid in your bed, burying himself under the blankets and deeper into the mattress; as if determined to be buried with his sadness and anger.
“Husband," he feels your hands on his shoulder. You know him by his shape alone. If you closed your eyes you could trace the curves that made up Satoru; even if it killed you slowly, your love was a loyal curse.
“Don’t call me that!” he raises in a grand move. The covers flew and his voice was in a yell. His glare was spine-chilling but they faltered as he saw the outfit you were.
“What should I call you then, Satoru?”
He takes you in, frowns deepening at the awful way his name sounds as you call for him. Not like his Suguru; his one and only.
“What the hell are you wearing, (Y/N)?”
He feels awful as you answer: “Funeral garbs. My mother has passed”.
There’s some satisfaction that paints your features as he is rendered speechless.
“What? How?”
“She was sick”. As he sits there with nothing to say you move to kneel in front of him. Your touch shocks him to reality. He pulls his shirt down, hoping you haven’t seen the hickeys Suguru had left on him before he decided to massacre that village.
You had. You’ve seen all of it. The lingering scent of Geto on his clothes, the hair ties on his wrist, the love bites that mottle his pale skin. Satoru may have those six heavenly eyes but he seemed so blind when it came to you.
The way he grimaces each time you’ve said his name now.
“What are you doing?”
“I’ll help you wash up, Gojo”. He’d be an idiot to have not noticed that switch. Guilt is seeded into him. He stops your hands but you move them with a robotic stubbornness.
“Stop — Wait —”
“I know, Gojo.”
Silence drapes the room.
Your hands carefully thumb into his heart and cover the seed of guilt with such care Satoru’s pulse doubles its speed.
“I know you love him. So very much. I know, because when I go to clan meetings, my cousins whisper behind my back of the two of you holding hands and going on dates. When you come back late after a mission to go to Geto’s room. Or when you suddenly have Geto’s marks on you and yours on him”.
“(Y/N) — ”
“But this is my mother, Gojo”.
Your voice wavers just as he clutches your wrists in his hands. Your head hangs as your shoulders jerk up and down, twisting and squirming so you can help Satoru clean and dressed.
You know he was in pain and your heart feels for him. He needs your help. You were willing to strip down so you could wash him, and get back into this disgustingly heavy robe all over again despite how nauseating it was to do it the first time.
Funny. You can’t recall ever being one with Satoru. Your marriage was never consummated — he told you that there was no rush, you were still kids. What did he tell Geto then? Did he tell him that he had never taken you in bed? Was he fervent in his worship of him? Was their love akin to a religion? Did they worship each others temples like devout monks? How funny. The first time you’d get to see him naked and him you would be the day of your mothers funeral.
“She was my mother, Satoru!”
He has never heard you yell before. Satoru is struck by the that revelation.
It’s been a year since he was officially titled your husband and he knew you longer than that. But this was the first time he’s seen you in despair. Heard your yell.
Seen you cry.
“Please, I know he was your one and only but she was my mother. Please, please, don’t let me face this alone, Gojo”
“(Y/N)...”
“Please, Gojo...”
Your wrists slip away from his loosened grip. Crumpling onto the floor, your forehead meets the floor and his feet as your beg.
"(Y/N)". How long had your mother been sick? Why didn't you tell him — or did you? Why couldn't he remember? As his mind races to collect any memory of this past year, your tears that wet his feet water that guilt.
Satoru says nothing as the both of you appear at the funeral. The haughty eyebrows and curled lips sting more when he's there — was it shame? This burning feeling in your chest? Had you said too much to Satoru? Now he was acutely aware of how others looked at you, at your marriage. How awful.
Satoru is not used to this feeling. As a child, the eyes that lingered on him were hungry for the prize of beheading him. That had been more comfortable than this.
This was scrutinizing. They gazed on you with pity, even with his body attempting to shield you, the whispers reach your ears anyways. Have you been doing this all alone? All those clan meetings that you went to alone, the ones he'd excuse himself from saying he had a mission while he spent the day with Suguru to make him eat more and attempt to nurse him back to his side from the Star Plasma vessel incident.
Suguru had wept to him, telling him how terrified he'd been at the thought of Satoru leaving him. Why didn't you come to him? No. Why hadn't he noticed you?
The ride back home was silent. Satoru couldn't believe your father had brought his bride-to-be to the ceremony, you quelled his anger by muttering that your mother had given her blessing for their marriage.
You're staring out the window. Had those bags always been under your eyes? When did your cheeks get so sunken in? Had you...had you lost weight? He ignores the way your fingers twitch as he places his hand over yours. Your skin feels foreign — so does his. He offers a purse of his lips, sliding his hand up your arm and leaning in to embrace you.
But freezes as you pull your hand away.
"Don't force it upon yourself, Gojo". "Husband —" his smile falls as your shoulders tighten, lower lip quivering. "Please don't make me beg again, Gojo."
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"What do you think, beloved?" Gojo grins brightly, bouncing his brow up and down. You were seated across from him in some cafe — he had been telling you all about how good the crepes here was a week before. "About...?" He pouts and places his elbows on the table. "My theory?" He watches as you blink, once, twice, then a faux smile climbs on your face. You turn your attention back to the melting ice cream. "Your theory about Okkotsu cursing Rika because of his love for her?" He nods vigorously. "It makes sense, right? His curse technique activating after seeing that brutal sight, it binding Rika to him". "Afterall, love is the most powerful curse", you said. Gojo's animated hand motions pause. He places his hand back onto the table. He reaches for your hand and you squeeze your eyes shut but allow it. He hates this.
Not you — He doesn't hate you. But he hates this.
After your mothers funeral, he looked through pictures. As first year students, all sunny smiles and bright eyed. The smiles got more tame as the four of you aged. His hands slung around Suguru's more tightly — even after they bared matching rings.
Satoru's never seen you smile like that anymore.
He brushes his thumb over your knuckles. Your jaw clenches.
"I love you, my beloved".
"...Thank you, Gojo".
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"It's been awhile, Satoru".
No. No, no, no.
Nononononononnonononononononononononono —
Gojo can't take his eyes away from Suguru.
He tries and tries and tries but he can't. Pinned by his onyx gaze alone.
Satoru's ring burns viciously and he curls his fingers into fists.
Meanwhile, your dead-eyed gaze seemed to intensify. Everything is muffled, it felt like you were underwater. It felt like you were 17 years old again.
Abandoned. Unworthy. Unloveable. In love. Always have been. Always will be. In love with a man that was never yours.
"(Y/N), you look pale", Suguru condenscends. At least, that's what it sounds like.
Hah. Was he envious? Did he think that in the years he's been gone, you've filled the void he left? Or did he know that you never did but he was jealous anyways?
Fuck, Satoru thinks. His temples feel taut as his teeth grit together.
Kento steps infront of you and your eyes widen by an inch.
How pathetic, Gojo (Y/N). An underclassmen protecting you from your husbands ex-lover's gaze.
Why couldn't Geto Suguru just die already.
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"What are you doing?" Gojo is grieving again. You should be elated but you're not. It feels too cruel. It wasn't your doing, you hadn't had any hand in killing Geto Suguru but a part of you wondered if your inner thoughts had been a wish you put out to the world. Now, Gojo was without Geto and Geto's daughters were without their father.
So you felt guilt anyways.
It was more feasible competing for Satoru's affections when his lover was simply exiled. How could you compete with a ghost?
"I'm praying for him", you replied. Gojo watches as you prepare to do so, kneeled on the floor. His eyes are rimmed with red again and he knows you've heard his cries; so here you are, sacrificing your happiness again for him.
"You don't have to do that, beloved". You say nothing as your eyes are closed in prayer. Satoru kneels behind you, his guilt had 10 years to grow and now it was a willow tree, with its leaves sweeping the lake of tears it grew from. Your eyes flutter open as you feel his head in the junction of your neck and shoulder; he fit so perfectly there, just like you knew he would. He's crying into your shoulder and your hand reaches back to card through the shaved sides of his hair. Your fingers lightly brushing the shell of his ear makes him shudder and he circles your waist to pull you against him. "Don't pity me, Gojo". He says nothing and neither do you.
"Say my name". His voice so close to your ear has you shivering.
"Gojo".
He shakes his head.
"My name, please, please, just say it".
Your heart clenches and as you close your eyes a tear slips past.
"I can't replace him, Gojo". He squeezes you tighter.
"I'm not asking you to replace him. No one can replace Suguru. I don't want them too, I don't want you too; I want you".
"I don't believe you".
He laughs, the slightest brush of his teeth on your skin has your stomach twisting into knots. Your breath trembles and you squirm in his hold, twisting away and getting onto your feet to get away from him. He doesn't allow you to. He blocks your way, shaking his head as he holds your shoulders next.
"I want you, (Y/N). I love you —"
How long have you wanted to hear those words. Your heart wants nothing more than to soar. But your brain knows better. "No, no, no, let me go". He doesn't let you. Satoru wraps his arms around you and your mouth opens to let out yells, fists pounding onto his chest as you try to get away from him.
"I hate you! You fucking bastard! I hate you, I loathe you!"
Satoru holds you firmly agaisnt him. Holding the back of your head preciously as he finally hears your voice raised above that whispering tone. "I hate you! I hate you so much! Why do you keep doing this to me!? I — I just wanted you, Satoru!" Your voice breaks and your sobbing turns into wailing. His heart squeezes, chest physically hurting as you sob and yell.
"I wanted you, Satoru! I just wanted you!" "Why didn't you love me, Satoru!?" Thunder rumbles and as your yells quiet down into hiccups, rain muffles it.
"I'm sorry, (Y/N)". He feels your knees give out and he holds you, making you lean against him for support. "I'm so sorry, my beloved. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, (Y/N)".
When he tucks you in to rest, he isn't surprised Megumi is standing in the doorway with his eyes set into a glare. Satoru wipes your tears away, sweeping some of your hair away before placing a kiss on your forehead. He raises to answer Megumi's burning questions.
"You heard?"
"I'm not deaf".
Megumi has his arms crossed. He was an observant boy. Being raised by both Satoru and you — he notices the overexuberant Satoru's confidence wavering every time you give him smiles that never reach your eyes. Tsumiki even told him once that she finds it sad, how you both seem to be so familiar but foreign to each other.
"But one time I did see (Y/N) get flustered because of Satoru", she told Megumi whilst on their way back from school. He looked ahead, sipping on his drink as a prompt for Tsumiki to continue. "It was during breakfast. (Y/N) woke up a little late because he was traveling around for clan meetings and missions. So he was panicking so much, he burnt our rice and stuff! But then, Satoru walks in and tells him he prepared our bento. He kept it in the fridge. All that was needed to do was heat it up, he helped (Y/N) the entire time and then he just — "
Tsumiki kisses the air with a loud 'mwah!'
"He plants a kiss right on (Y/N)'s forehead. (Y/N) was so flustered he just stared down at the sink. It was cute, he's definitely still in love, they both are!"
Megumi peeks into the room. The sliver of light on your peaceful expression highlights the content curl of your lips despite the swollen eyes you bore.
"...Don't mess up this second chance", Megumi warns. He turns and marches away while Satoru huffs, scratching the back of his head as he sighs. "I wasn't planning to". He really does love you. He does. He loves you, from the ends of your hair to the tip of your fucking toes; he loves —loved, Suguru too. But this is different, you're different. But his love isn't any less or more.
He loves you.
Whatever it takes, he'll make sure you know it until his last breath.
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