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gojorgeous · 10 months ago

Text

"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off.

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all.

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it.

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married.

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags.

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding.

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times.

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying.

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance.

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold.

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income.

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me?

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of.

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.”

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before.

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.”

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you.

“Yes, my lady?”

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?”

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps.

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you?

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness.

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing.

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home.

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come.

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly.

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning.

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags.

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle.

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and-

“Do you like them?”

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie.

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him.

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained?

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.”

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.”

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips.

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.”

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling.

“Of course… Satoru.”

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet.

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies.

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.”

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever…

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.”

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming?

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.”

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue.

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?”

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks.

“Not tonight.”

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch.

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence.

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone.

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened.

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed?

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense.

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person.

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all.

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking.

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?”

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver.

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.”

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.”

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains.

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in.

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you.

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again.

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse.

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas.

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume.

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.”

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind.

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.”

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.”

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin.

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.”

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?”

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.”

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room.

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough.

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue.

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.”

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.”

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?”

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?”

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.”

He chuckles. “My pleasure.”

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight?

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you?

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse.

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone.

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon.

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare.

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge.

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he?

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you.

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right?

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there.

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”.

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye.

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.”

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further.

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages.

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.”

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph.

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe?

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.”

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second.

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.”

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening.

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.”

No, no, no.

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible.

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru.

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows.

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense.

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting.

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine.

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?”

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.”

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you.

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further.

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…”

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you.

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does.

“About the estate?” he asks.

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?”

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.”

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.”

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-”

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why.

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him.

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…”

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch.

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine?

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?”

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real.

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point.

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper.

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in.

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.”

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him.

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?”

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.”

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.”

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight.

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago.

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?”

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?”

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be.

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?”

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe.

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.”

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?”

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone.

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin.

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt.

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.”

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has.

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less.

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning.

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long.

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked.

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity-

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips.

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re–

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature.

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.”

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper.

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust.

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb.

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.”

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further.

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?”

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer.

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?”

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch.

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.”

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod.

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth–

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing?

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire.

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.”

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is.

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move.

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop.

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake.

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.”

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision.

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer.

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done.

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation.

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.”

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp.

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts.

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–”

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin.

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants.

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do.

“Yes,” you whisper.

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath.

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments.

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…”

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come.

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull.

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens.

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like.

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants.

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago.

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave.

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @keiva1000

please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡

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solxamber · 11 days ago

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Romance Clichés With: Leona Kingscholar

Cliché: Misplaced Jealousy

Others: Azul ; Vil ; Kalim ; Idia

it's gonna be a little series where each of them gets a cliché!

For days now, Leona had been simmering. He’d never admit to caring about something so trivial, but that simmer was rapidly reaching a boil, one muttered “Savanaclaw guy” at a time. Because you—his supposed close friend, the only person he could actually stand around here—had developed some grand crush on… someone. Someone you kept bringing up. Some unknown, nameless, faceless moron in Savanaclaw.

And you just wouldn’t shut up about him.

Leona had been sitting through your monologues, listening to you talk about how strong and loyal and amazing this guy was, and it had started as a minor annoyance. But as you kept going, he realized something deeply frustrating—maybe even painful.

That after everything, you had gone and chosen some other Savanaclaw idiot over him. And it stung, more than he’d ever want to admit, to hear you talking about anyone like this.

But today was the breaking point.

You were lounging in his den, casually chatting with him between classes. As usual, the conversation took a familiar turn, and you sighed dramatically. “I mean, I guess it’s just… this guy, he’s just… I don’t know. He’s got this strength that’s so impressive, and he always knows how to take charge. Like, he doesn’t even need to try, you know? It’s like he was born to lead.” You didn’t notice Leona’s eyes darken or the way his fingers clenched into fists.

“Just the way he’s so confident,” you continued, “he’s got this whole ‘I don’t care about anything’ vibe that’s really charming in a weird way. It’s like he’s always one step ahead of everyone, even when he’s—”

Leona cut you off with a harsh scoff. “Right. Real inspiring. Sounds like a real prize,” he muttered, not meeting your eyes. “And I bet he doesn’t even realize how perfect he is, right?”

“Exactly! He’s the type who’s always underestimated,” you continued, oblivious to the thunderous look on Leona’s face. “But if people would just give him a chance, they’d see all his best qualities. He’s fierce, but he’s got this heart of gold underneath it all. People just don’t get him.”

“Oh, don’t they?” Leona’s voice was low and strained, a bitter edge cutting through his usual drawl. “Must be nice to be so adored by someone.”

“Hey,” you said, “don’t say it like that. He doesn’t even know I like him. I don’t even know if he’d ever see me like that.” You let out a wistful sigh that was like a slap to his face.

Leona’s patience finally snapped. “Unbelievable,” he snarled, standing up so fast that you jumped. “You’re completely clueless.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Clueless? Leona, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you,” he bit out, eyes blazing. “You’re here—wasting your time on someone who probably doesn’t even care about you while you throw yourself at him like some kind of fool. I mean, what’s it gonna take for you to get it?”

You were stunned into silence, and he kept going, frustration pouring out in a way that you’d never seen before. “After everything, you go and pick someone else?” His voice cracked a little, and it made your heart ache. “I thought maybe… maybe if there was anyone here you’d choose, it would be me.”

Your mouth opened, then closed. You were utterly bewildered. “Leona… what are you talking about? It has always been you.”

He blinked, staring at you, completely thrown. “What?”

You took a step closer to him, speaking slowly, trying to get through his thick skull. “Leona, all that stuff I’ve been saying—every time I was talking about this person I liked, I was talking about you.”

Leona looked like he’d been hit by a lightning bolt. His mouth fell open slightly, and he was struggling to catch up, his usual composure completely shattered. “Wait… you’re serious?”

“Yes! Why else would I even talk about Savanaclaw so much?” You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “You were the one who kept assuming it was someone else.”

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, running a hand through his hair, and for the first time, you saw a raw vulnerability in his eyes that he usually kept hidden. “All this time… I really thought you’d gone and chosen some other guy,” he said quietly, shaking his head. “Thought at least you’d pick me.”

The way he said it made your heart break a little. He looked almost small, like the thought of not being chosen had left him gutted in a way he couldn’t fully hide. You reached out, gently taking his hand. “Leona, it’s always been you. You’re the one I’ve been drawn to from the start.”

A surge of relief softened his features, and he gave a quiet, almost disbelieving chuckle. His usual swagger returned, just a bit, as he held your hand tighter. “Well,” he murmured, his gaze becoming intense, “then what’re you waiting for?”

You didn’t waste another second. You closed the space between you, capturing his lips in a kiss that was long overdue. He responded immediately, one hand coming up to cup your cheek, pulling you closer. The kiss was fierce, almost possessive, and when he finally broke away, he was wearing a smug, satisfied grin.

“About damn time,” he murmured against your lips, though there was a warmth in his voice that softened the usual sharpness. He looked down at you, his fingers grazing your cheek with an unexpected tenderness. “Next time, just skip all the theatrics and tell me, alright?”

You laughed, leaning into his touch. “I thought I was being obvious.”

“Obvious?” He huffed, rolling his eyes with a faint smile. “Trust me, you’re terrible at ‘obvious.’”

But as he gazed at you, that smirk melted into something genuine, something that showed how deeply he cared. He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you, and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his voice barely above a whisper. “So… you’re really mine, then?”

You nodded, and he let out a pleased sigh, holding you even tighter. “Good,” he said, his voice low and possessive, like he was finally claiming what was his. “Now let’s ditch these losers. We don’t need anyone else, just us.”

You smiled, resting your head on his chest as his hand gently stroked your back. “Fine by me,” you murmured, happiness bubbling up as you pressed small kisses along his jawline, making him chuckle.

For once, Leona didn’t have any sharp retorts, no scowls or walls to put up. He just held you, his heart finally at ease, the weight of his doubts and insecurities melting away as he finally let himself be happy.

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #twst leona #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x you #leona

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heyjudeb · 4 months ago

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I'm proud of you - Jude Bellingham

Summary: Comforting sad and defeated Jude after England's loss. Warning: Sad moment, comforting Words: <1k

The referee blows the final whistle.

It was over. England lost. It all happened too quickly. Spain scoring in the last minutes didn't even give us time to process the situation.

I was sitting in the stands with Jude's family. We all shed a tear once the Spanish players started celebrating. Seeing Jude go off to the bench and kick something was a heartbreaking yet scary sight for me. Instantly, I knew that was going to be a sight for the media.

He's not like that at all. He just really wanted this win. With people being all over him, critiquing him, he really wanted to prove them wrong, to make England proud. I couldn't be more proud of him, though. He achieved amazing things in this competition.

As I watched him from afar, I wished I could just run down and hold him, tell him it was okay. I knew how much he had invested in this tournament, how much he had sacrificed. His dedication and his passio were the qualities that made him extraordinary. Those were the reasons why I fell in love with him.

Feeling an overwhelming urge to be closer to him, I excused myself from his family and made my way down to the lower stands, closer to the field. As I approached the edge, I saw Jude pacing back and forth, his frustration evident in every step. When he finally noticed me, our eyes locked. He hesitated for a moment, then walked over.

With his help, I crossed the barrier and immediately fell into his arms, holding his head tightly into my neck. I could feel him shaking from all the emotions he was going through.

"I messed up," he muttered, his voice muffled against my shoulder.

"No, you didn't," I said firmly, my hand gently running through his hair. "You were incredible, baby. You gave it your all." He pulled back slightly, his eyes filled with tears. "It wasn't enough. It wasn't fucking enough." "Hey," I cupped his face gently, putting my forehead against his. "Listen to me. You were amazing out there. You fought so hard, and everyone saw it."

He didn't know what to say. I could see he wanted to let go of everything he was feeling, but the words wouldn't come.

"Just stay calm, baby," I tried to comfort him, reminding him that losing is part of the game and keeping his composure is important. "You can use this to come back even stronger."

I knew my words might not have a big impact on him in that moment. It was all still raw and fresh for him, so I simply held him tighter in my arms. He pulled back slightly, his eyes still glistening. "I have to go, baby. They're going to do the ceremony."

"I know," I said softly. He kissed my forehead.

"I'll meet you afterwards," I told him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

He nodded, giving me one last look before turning and walking towards his teammates. As I walked up the stands to where his family was, I felt a mix of pride and heartache.

After England had their moment, Jude walked up to us and hugged his family. They all expressed how proud they were of him, trying not to show any sadness in front of him.

He sat down with his head low. I gently lifted his chin, earning a small, faint smile from him.

"I'm sorry for disappointing you guys," he managed to say to them.

I sat on his lap, holding him close to my chest. It pained me to see him like this, unable to erase his sadness.

"You never disappoint us, Jude," his mom reassured him, holding his hand tightly.

I arrived at my hotel room feeling exhausted and heartbroken for Jude. He had to return to the hotel with the team. There was nothing I wanted more than to have him in my arms and try to ease his sadness, even just a little. I was about to get into bed after finishing my nighttime routine when I heard a faint knock on the door. I opened it to find Jude standing there, his shoulders slumped and a tired look on his face. "They told me it's okay," he said quickly, grabbing my hand and leading me to the bed.

He took off his shirt and sweatpants and collapsed onto the bed, pulling me with him. His head immediately rested on my chest as he hugged me tightly.

"It's going to be okay, baby," I whispered, wrapping my arms around his head and kissing his forehead repeatedly. "These bad feelings will pass, trust me."

I ran my fingers through his hair, knowing it helped him relax and fall asleep. I kept kissing his forehead and cuddling him until I felt his grip around my waist loosen slightly, indicating he had fallen asleep.

"You'll always be my champion, baby," I whispered softly." I love you so much, Jude Bellingham."

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x you #footballer imagines #football #football imagine #football players

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echoofadream · 6 months ago

Text

Your favorite patient...

Part 1

Summary: You are a hardworking doctor and you save a man's life. Wait, why is he coming back with all sorts of conditions? What do you mean he followed you home? He's begging to be your...what?

Contains: Obsessive behavior(yandere), stalking, mentions of masturbation, slight smut, dom!reader(gender is not specified), sub!male!yandere.

Imagine you work in a hospital. You're a workaholic doctor who simply loves treating people and helping them get healthier and better. You greet everyone with a smile and try to cheer up every person who comes in, despite their state.

One day a young man is brought into the ER and you find out he had been in a horrible car accident. You don't waste any more time and treat his wounds and the next day he's already conscious and aware of everything happening around him. Yours is the first face he sees once awake.

The following days you visit him in his hospital room and ask him how he's feeling, the same honest and benevolent smile on your face. You can tell that he's exaggerating most of the time and that the pain he tells you he's experiencing is not as severe as he claims. So you do the only rational thing and discharge him.

Next week, he's back with another issue and he requests you specifically. An ear infection. It wasn't your area of expertise but you took a look and recommended him a qualified doctor. He left displeased.

One week later you saw him again. A stomach ache. It wasn't bad but he wouldn't have it. "You don't get it, doctor! It hurts!" he'd say and grab your wrist, putting it on his lower stomach. He wanted a set of tests. He was even willing to pay any sum of money! You actually ran the tests and he spent one night in the hospital. You should've paid more attention to the smile he had on his face when you came with his results. He wasn't pleased seeing a green line next to every word on the file, yet he understood the situation and left. "Thank you so much, doctor!" he said with a huge smile on his face. "I was so scared! What would I do without you?"

The following week he was in the ER again. Ibuprofen overdose. "I had a headache and didn't know what to do! Help me, doctor!" A part of you was starting to see a pattern, yet your overworked mind couldn't quite put the finger on the issue at hand. You treated him like any other patient. The same friendly smile on your face, the same soft tone of voice, the same tired eyes. You were busy saving lives everyday. This was your duty and you had to do it right. "Such a big heart you have, doctor!" the same adoration in his eyes when he says this as always. "You're amazing!" and you could've sworn you saw tiny hearts forming inside his dark pupils. You should drink less caffeine, really.

After a couple of days the man doesn't come into the ER. Yet you don't even notice his absence. You were so overworked, so tired! Poor you!

One random Thursday(a thoroughly planned day) you freeze when you step into your living room. A familiar person was sitting on your couch. You knew him from somewhere, but why was it so hard for you to remember?

"Hello, doctor!" he greets. The same smile, the same excited voice. And you recognized him. "Don't tell me you don't know who I am..." he started, a bit of disappointment making its way into his facial expression.

You were standing there, unable to move. What was your patient doing inside your house? How did he know where you lived? How did he get inside? Why did he get inside? Was he dange-

"You don't look too pleased to see me, doctor..." he says, a small frown on his face. He approaches you and you instinctively take a step back. "Don't be afraid. I'd never hurt you." his words were either as honest as they could be or he was one hell of a liar. The former sounded better. "You're good and kind and gentle. I'd never hurt you" he chuckled. That makes you make another step back.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, breathlessly.

"I'm here for you, isn't that obvious?"

It was very obvious but you were hoping he'd elaborate.

"You work so hard, doctor" he starts talking in a pitiful, saddened voice. "You work overtime almost everyday. You always come back home late. You don't even have time to cook and you always order takeaway. Then you sit in front of the TV with a glass of wine in your hand, drifting off with god knows what series in the background." He chuckles. "Well, I know actually.".

He takes another step towards you and you flinch. "I wanna make you feel good, doctor" he tells you, almost whimpering. "You work so hard...it's a pity you don't have a slave at home to take care of each and every one of your needs"

Did he just say slave?

"I've been following you ever since you saved my life, doctor. I owe you!". He puts a hand over his heart, trying to show you just how much he loves you. "I know everything you do. I know you barely have a social life, or a sleep schedule or time for yourself except for the moments when you lay on your back on the bed, your glass on the bedside table and you...touch yourself." He blushed at his own words. Meanwhile, you were going through the five stages of fear. If they didn't exist until now, well now they did.

"You don't have any time to clean this place either. I know, since I try not to cough when I lay under your bed and listen to your moans every night." A huge smile spreads across his face. "God, you're amazing..." .

Your hand goes to the pocket of your coat and, as soon as he sees you, his face darkens.

"Doctor...I told you I'm not here to hurt you" His tone held some sort of threat and that made you the more afraid. Your fingers wrap around your phone and you pull it out. He grabs your wrist, stopping you. "You're not gonna do that!" he screams. "You're gonna make me yours! You're gonna do it!".

The sound of your palm making contact with his cheek echoed in the room. He bends forward a little, covering his red cheek and whining softly. He looks at you with fear in his eyes, but you needed to be blind not to see the arousal that fear created. He drops to his knees, hands on his thighs, head lowered.

"I'm sorry, doctor!" he whines. "I shouldn't have yelled at you! Please forgive me! Please! Forgive me for being such a bad boy..." .

You look at him with a shocked expression. It was crystal clear that he was living inside his own world of make-believe in which you were the master and he was the slave. It was obvious he'd wanted it ever since he first saw you. And that he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

You smirk, all the previously felt fear having already vanished. After all, everything he said was right. You were exhausted and you needed someone to serve you. You deserved it, didn't you? Weren't you that god sent person who saved this poor boy's life? Why not give him what he wants? Why not...give yourself what you want?

"You followed me home" you start, your tone as assertive as you could make it. You could see his body shiver and that only made you keep going. "You broke into my house multiple times. You stalked me!"

A soft whimper escapes the man in front of you. He tries to lift his head, to look at you with those big pleading puppy eyes of his, to show you how very sorry he felt(not in the slightest) for doing all that. But when you snap at him he lowers his head again.

"You gave yourself medical conditions so that I could treat you! What kind of sick fuck does that?"

He moaned when he heard your degrading words, lifting his head and looking you straight in the eyes, a big smile on his face.

"I'm sick, doctor. I'm very sick..."

You laughed at his wordplay. "I think you've been a bad boy. A bad sick naughty boy. You know what bad boys get?" You smirk, waiting for his answer.

"Punishment!" he yells, his eagerness immeasurable. "They get punishment. Please, doctor..."

"Please, what?"

"Please....punish me"

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

If this goes well I'll write the second part(smut ofc).

#yandere fanfiction #yandere x reader #sub yandere #sub!yandere #dom!reader #sub!character #dom reader #anime fic #anime fanfic #anime #anime x reader #x reader #smut

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aklaustaleteller · 6 months ago

Note

Could you make an imagine where Klaus Mikaelson is the father figure to the reader despite not being her real dad? And her birth father came back trying to take her but Klaus wouldn’t stand for it and wouldn’t let him take the reader?

Home

Klaus had just been taking a stroll through the woods when he finds himself walking towards the sounds of a beta's broken sobs. Seeing the little abandoned wolf, Klaus takes her home with him, hoping that he'd be able to become her safe place -- which he very successfully does. But what happens when Y/n's biological father returns after ages in hopes of getting her back?

Warnings - None really, other than the fact that it's quite sad (but with happy outcomes I promise <3)

Word Count - 4.0k

Masterlist | please reblog the fic if you like it!

I'm so so so sorry for my absence the past whole week but hey, this is quite literally a 4k worded fic! So hopefully that makes up for it? (Also, thank you for the request, lovely anon. Please do tell me if you like it!!)

Also! I took the idea of Y/n's wolf being a little out of control from this very very amazing fic written by the truly talented @klausysworld Please do give the fic a read, if you haven't already that is, hahah <3

Klaus had been taking a stroll through the woods, his feet carrying him just about anywhere while his mind sped through thoughts a million miles an hour. He made plans, then backed them up with another one, and then made another one, just in case. And he'd just lifted his leg to cross over a fallen tree when his body came to an unnatural halt.

He was never caught off guard, but right now, as he heard hushed sobs and a heart that was beating in a painfully broken rhythm, he couldn't help but gently continue his stroll – in a particular direction with an aim, this time.

His head tilted as he neared the source of the sound, his nose picking up on a beta scent. It had been way too long since he had come across a beta, his major interactions occurring with either other Alphas or Omegas, or Vampires. As well as some other species that rather got on his nerves, such as the witches. It intrigued him.

From quite afar, his eyes finally caught sight of a rather small frame crouched against the rough bark of a tree, a jerk shaking their body every time their back accidently met with it, followed by another painful but gritted howl.

But what made Klaus' frown deepen even further, was the sight of wolf ears growing from the person's head. He felt as though his eyes were deceiving him; he had never come across something like this and if he wasn't mistaken, he was pretty sure that this was just an untrained little wolf -- or perhaps it was the strangeness making him think that there couldn't possibly be another mythical creature that was actually all too real.

So, he walked closer, his head a little ducked and shoulders bunched up on either side of his neck as he tried not to make any sound as that would surely startle the ...child, he realised.

The little frame, sobbing into their hands with their knees bunched up against their torso, belonged to a child. A werewolf child who was beginning to lose control of their wolf, and just then Klaus noticed a tail curling up against the little one's back in order to provide comfort.

He flinched when some wood broke unde his step, alerting the little girl and his heart cracked like a drought-stricken land when she jerked and looked up at him with eyes so big, full of fear swarming them and so much sadness that he could drown in it and not be found.

She immediately backed up into the tree, hissing sharply when her back met the unruly surface but not once did her eyes move away from him. Her lips trembled, a fat tear rolling down her cheek against her will and Klaus noted that the girl could not be older than a decade.

Taking another step towards her, Klaus froze when her wolf ears went back in, and a sob broke out of her mouth.

"Please, sir! I will do whatever you ask of me, but please don't hurt me," she shouted at him, fully breaking down into heart wrenching sobs as she tried to get up on wobbly legs but fell to the ground right away due to the tremor coursing through her body.

Tears blurred his vision for a second before he took the final step toward her which brought him close enough to sit on his knees beside her and rest his hand on her head.

"It's alright, little wolf. I'm not here to harm you," Klaus whispered, feeling her body falling into shambles under his touch. But when she looked up at him with uncertainty in her eyes, he couldn't help but pass her a reassuring smile.

"You are safe with me, sweetheart," he said, now weaving his hand across her forehead to brush away the hair that stuck to it. "Yes?" He asked her with a soft nod, bringing her closer to his chest when she too, nodded. Her eyes were still uncertain but he could tell that it won't take long for her to let go.

This was a child, full of enough naivety to trust a stranger and Klaus was more than glad that he’d found her before someone else could’ve. And maybe his Alpha scent provided her with the extra comfort that she most likely needed, but Klaus wasn’t complaining.

So he rested his back against the tree this time and let her sit in his lap, his arms around her in a way that cocooned her away from whatever that had pained her so terribly, and ready to protect her from anything that came her way with poisonous intentions.

His heart clenched inside his chest when the little girl curled up against him, finally letting the sobs rake through her body and for all the sadness to cause havoc inside her little heart before it left her alone for good.

And for some reason, Klaus just knew to avoid her back. It was clear that she was hurt over there somehow, making him rub his hand up and down her arm instead, and rock the two of them side to side for a little bit. Slowly and slowly, her wails turned into softer sobs and then finally, Klaus heard her heartbeat go back to a normal pace again.

He looked down to see if she'd cried it all out, wanting her to tell him about the culprit who had hurt her like this but when he found that she had slipped into a deep, peaceful slumber, he didn't even think once before carrying her home with him, covering her up under his duvet while he sat on the sofa across the bed, looking at her and telling himself that there was no way he was going to be able to let her go.

He just felt something between them, something that brought them closer in a way he had never experienced before. He felt like he was supposed to love her, care for her, teach her all about the world and show her the wonders. He felt like taking her responsibility, giving her his last name and raising her protected from the world.

Perhaps it was because he, somewhere, saw his inner child in her. The child that so helplessly begged for just some love from his father and got the horrifying abuse instead.

Klaus wanted to take her under his wing and be there for her while she grew up. He wanted this very clearly abandoned little wolf to call him her father, and his brothers her uncles and his sisters her aunts.

He couldn't sleep all night, fearing that she'd wake up and ask for her actual parents. And he knew he'd take her back in an instant if she wanted to, but it would tear him apart into uncountable and unrecognisable shreds.

And so, he waited all night for her to wake up and hopefully deny him when he'd ask her if she wanted to go back home. And Klaus would go to hell and back to build her a home; to become her home.

But despite his stubborn decision to stay up and look after her, Klaus awoke to something soft and comforting touching his whatever exposed skin. And as he cracked open his eyes, the sunlight was already pouring inside his room and one of his blankets was draped over him. And he knew it hadn’t been on him for long as he had felt it sliding across his frame, and yet he couldn’t catch sight of the carer.

That was, until he began getting up and he looked down to find the little girl, sitting beside his feet and looking up at him with doe eyes full of ...joy. He noted that the girl was happy to see that he was finally awake, her heartbeat picking up just a little as a smile slid on her mouth.

“Thank you, Alpha,” the girl mumbled shyly, placing her hands on his knees while she began standing up. And Klaus’ arms instantly went ahead in order to prevent her from falling but she didn’t stumble once, reminding him that she probably had werewolf healing powers that performed with a slight delay due to her young age.

Klaus opened his mouth to say something but when the girl warily wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on the very tip of her toes to do so, he found himself caught off guard, once again. But regardless, he hugged her back rather tightly, lifting her off the ground and bringing her on the sofa.

“Are you okay now, little wolf? Does it still hurt?” Klaus asked her, one of his hands cupping her face while the other cradled her. And his heart swooned when she curled up on him just like the night prior, but this time only soft breaths passed through her mouth.

“The wounds have healed, Alpha,” she mumbled, almost hiding her face by tucking it away in his chest. “But my heart still hurts, I think,” her voice wavered as she confessed, now clenching his henley in her fist due to the unease it brought to her.

“Oh, little wolf,” Klaus sighed, his eyebrows turned into an upside down frown as he looked upon her with pity. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” He whispered, cautious so she wouldn’t shut him off, even though she was too young to know of such a thing.

“My father, he – he kicked me out of the pack yesterday,” she told him with a quivering voice, tears beginning to pool in her eyes once again. “He told me – he said that he doesn’t love me… that – that he never has!” She cried out, a sob aching her throat and wrapping itself around it so tightly that it was almost beginning to choke her.

“He said he doesn’t love me,” she repeated, her body now shaking in Klaus arms as his heart crumpled inside his chest as he noted just how much she cared and felt, and that she was having to relive it again right now.

“Why did he kick you out, darling?” Klaus asked, wanting to end her misery and just a one line answer would be enough for him to go over and slaughter the entire pack.

“He wanted me to learn how to handle the pack once he wouldn’t be there anymore, how – how to be an Alpha,” she told him, tears flowing out of her eyes that had now grown bloodshot red.

And just then, her ears popped out of her head once again, and Klaus couldn’t help but pet the welted ears in order to help her calm down.

“But I didn’t want to! I – I don’t want to take charge after him!” She told Klaus, this time her voice changed its tone to be more convincing and desperate. She sat upright, trying to show Klaus just how much she’d rather work behind the scenes than take the lead officially.

“It’s okay, little wolf – you won’t have to anymore,” Klaus reassured the girl, weaving his fingers through her hair and pressing a kiss on her forehead. “You’ll be here with me, safe and sound, and I will love you, sweetheart,” he whispered, looking into her eys with the purest sincerity.

“I truly love you, little wolf,” Klaus said softly at recieving a questioning look from her, asking if he honestly meant what he was saying. “And I will always show you love.”

She brightened up at that, the shine of a couple stars returning to her eyes as she got up, but then saddened again. “But what about home?” She asked, her tears beginning to dry up on her cheeks as she wiped them away.

“Do you wish to go home?”

“No,” she trailed off, looking away from his eyes as if guilty, causing Klasu to cup her cheeks and turn her back to face him.

“Then I’ll be your home, little wolf,” he smiled at her. “Yes?”

The girl nodded, quickly leaning in to press a kiss on his dimpled cheek.

“What’s your name, darling?”

“Y/n, Alpha,” she answered him, and Klaus wanted more than anything for her to call him her father or dad, but knew that he should give her some time.

“Lovely,” he grinned, taking her in his arms and getting up to let her in the shower and then introduce her to the rest of the Mikaelsons.

And it wasn’t long before Klaus found himself officially adopting Y/n, making her a Mikaelson and his heart had swollen inside his ribs when she’d so shyly asked him if she could finally call him her father.

Over the first couple months only Klaus noticed that her gentle and empathetic nature valued deep and personal connections with people over power and attention. He also learned that the reason she hid her high intelligence and outstandingness in whatever field she chose, was because that was simply ingrained in her beta personality.

So, gradually, books all about betas began to fill shelves in their library quarter of the house.

“Father!” Came in a shrieking voice, followed by his ears picking up on a rapid heartbeat and he was out of the bed in an instant, checking her over to see if she was hurt and he only shook his head when he found that Kol had just been chasing her around the house, early in the morning to keep her interest while Freya made breakfast for her.

“Good morning, little wolf,” Klaus grinned, picking her up off the ground and spinning with her in his hold, pressing as many kisses as he could all over her face as she pressed her palm against his face to keep his stubble away.

Loud giggles and squeaks echoed throughout the mansion as Klaus brought her back to bed with him, letting her lay on top of him.

It quite hurt him that she was too tall to curl up on him now, but it still felt good when her heart pressed up against his despite the many layers of bones and skin and clothing keeping them apart.

“Uncle Kol was chasing me with his vampire speed! Tell him that that’s not fair!” She whined, looking pointedly at Kol who was shaking his head at the door.

“You’re a wolf, little one,” Klaus began, pulling her attention back on him. “You can outrun anyone,” he smiled.

Y/n contemplated that for a second before she moved to sit upright beside him with a pout on her mouth. “Anyone but you, father.”

Klaus laughed at that, tackling her back into bed. “You do not wish to outrun me, now do you, little wolf?” He asked her, getting out of bed and letting her cling to him on his chest as he went downstairs. He knew that as a wolf, she preferred to nuzzle anywhere she found warmth, and that his chest was one of her favourite places.

Sitting her down on the chair next to him, Klaus let her eat her food by herself. Sure, the honey did drizzle down her chin once but he didn’t mind, instantly cleaning it up with his thumb before it could’ve slipped down any further.

Elijah asked her questions about the storybook he had bought her a couple days prior, Rebekah asked her if the girl wanted to help her aunt pick out a dress, Kol warned her against it by threatening to chase her and Freya smacked all of them on the back of their heads, telling them off to let you eat.

“Father, are you free to paint with me after this?” Y/n asked, looking at him with eyes that had truly unintentionally turned similar to a little puppy’s.

Klaus finished his food, noting another thing that her shyness had truly dissipated into thin air. And all that it had left behind was politeness and some convincing eyes that could get the devil to let go of a deal.

“Of course, Y/n,” he smiled, getting up and grinning when she trotted behind him happily with her own empty plate in her hand. He watched as she put it in the sink and washed her hands and mouth, letting her chug down her orange juice for once as he wiped his own mouth.

Once again, she followed him back inside his studio like a lost puppy. Klaus came back out with the heavier and the majority of supplies in his hands while Y/n skipped behind him with the paints and the brushes in hers.

Walking into the front yard, Klaus set down all of their stuff and sat himself in front of her, chuckling when he noticed that she’d already begun twirling her brush around on her canvas, not a single thought in her mind as she let out anything that flashed in front of her eyes, onto the paper.

Klaus on the other hand, decided to make a painting of colours chosen from her hair. Every colour he saw in the midst of her hair strands, he put it on his canvas, slowly and slowly morphing into a tree’s bark.

And when he checked upon her canvas to see where her painting was going, he felt his dimples dig inside his cheeks at the sight of every and any shade of green that she could find – perhaps in his eyes, Klaus realized when she raised her head to look into his eyes and went back to working.

Almost all of his days went like this, waking up to her running into his room after having had a shower, holding her in his arms for a little then taking her down for breakfast, where she would convince him to paint with her for a little.

After that he’d let her go off with Eilajh to read and learn some other things by Freya that she probably needed to learn. He would be out of the mansion during that, out to mind his business and kill his own minions because of their brave stupidity.

When he’d return to the mansion, Y/n would sleepily trod out of her bed and into his arms, let him pick her up and take her to bed where he’d just hold her and tell her how much he loved her, because someone had probably already read her a story or two.

Some nights she would wake up crying from a nightmare about her biological father, and then she would find herself running into Klaus’ arms which were already open, having heard her rushed footsteps and broken sobs.

Her wolf ears no longer popped out since Klaus had spent an insurmountable time helping her take her wolf under her control, but every once in a while, depending upon how bad the nightmare was, her tail would creep out of her shirt and curl itself either around Klaus’ arms or her own back, which Klaus didn’t object at seeing that she only did this when she was crying in his arms.

But once they’d finish painting, Y/n would run into the house with her and Klaus’ painting to show them off to her uncles and aunts, leaving Klaus behind to clean up the mess. But he didn’t mind it one bit, only laughing when she’d come back looking guilty and saying that she was sorry that she’d once again forgotten to help him clean up in her excitement.

And that’s exactly what had happened just now.

“It’s okay little wolf,” Klaus assured her. “You know I don’t mind it,” he said and let her hug him to show him just how bad she felt.

He rubbed her back, and got up with her hand in his, looking down at the back of her head and smiling as she led their way back inside.

“Wait father!” She paused her walking. “Look, the weather has taken a turn,” she stated, pointing at the sky in which angry clouds had begun swirling, the fluffy white ones long gone.

“Does that mean it’s reading time?”

“Yes!” The girl shrieked, jumping up and down, making Klaus laugh as she ran off to meet up with Elijah.

He caught himself grinning long after she had left his line of sight and shook his head, a smile still pasted on his mouth as he turned around to rule over the so-called supernatural adults whom even Y/n was smarter than.

“I see you’ve taken a liking to playing her father, Niklaus,” a rough voice said from behind, and while it hadn’t caught Klaus off guard, what had was the fact that this man was brave and dumb enough to step a foot in such close proximity to him.

Surely, he must have come with a death wish.

“Roman,” Klaus said out loud the name of Y/n’s biological father, his voice full of venom and he could’ve spat at the man in front of him. “I see you’re feeling daring today, perhaps even like dying?” He proposed, taking a threatening step towards the man.

Klaus had, the very next night of when he’d found Y/n, went on to slaughter Roman’s entire pack. He had let the man live since he wanted him to see and live through his own daughter's hatred towards him. So much hatred that she didn’t even look his way anymore, let alone call him her father.

“Let’s not get this messy, Niklaus,” Roman started but before he could’ve finished, Klaus had him pinned against the very door frame he was leaning so cockily on.

“I’m not your friend, Roman,” he gritted through his teeth, knowing that he didn’t need to clarify any further as to what he meant by that.

“Sir,” Roman started, stretching his neck. “I want my daughter back,” he said.

Red flashed in front of Klaus’ eyes as he sped towards Roman, tearing through his flesh and ribs to clench his heart in his fist. “I would’ve been a fan of such bravery had you not made the mistake of calling her your daughter when she fucking refuses to even recognise you,” Klaus finally spat at him, his grip on his heart so tight that it could burst due to the pressure.

“I will rip your heart out and shove it down your throat if you dare once again to call my daughter, yours, or call your lame excuse of a self, her father,” he said, pulling on his heart lightly. “She is mine, and I love her and this is her home now.”

“I am her home,” he gritted his teeth so hard that they could’ve shattered.

Roman’s frame was beginning to get blue, knocking the realisation into Klaus that his hold on his heart was so hard that it was struggling to beat. “Go to the opposite side of the world and never look back here again,” Klaus compelled him, finally taking his hand back out of his chest.

“Now off you go,” he said, maybe shooed. “I am sure you know that a wolf bite can only be cured by my blood,” he hissed venomously, his eyes shining golden as vampire streaks drew themselves through his skin.

And once Roman had finally sped out, Klaus let out a breath and his heart to rest again, his hands trembling at the thought of what could’ve happened right now had he not been who he truly is.

Rushing into his room to clean himself off, Klaus rushed back out to Y/n who was currently sitting in front of Elijah.

“Little wolf!” Klaus called for her as he stood at the doorway of the room, his vision getting blurry when she came running to him with the biggest smile on her face.

“Yes father? Missed me, didn’t you?” She giggled teasingly, wrapping her arms around him and Klaus couldn’t help but nuzzle in the nape of her neck, holding her tightly against him as he kneeled on the floor and felt a tear slip past the slit of his eyes.

“I love you, my little wolf,” he said, whimpering.

“Oh, I love you too, father,” she sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. “You should know that I’ll always be your little wolf.”

“Forever and always, my precious” Klaus breathed, pressing a chaste kiss on her cheek before resting his forehead against it for a moment, breathing in her scent and reminding himself that she’d also become his home now.

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ghostssimp · 4 months ago

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Pretty Boy //Aegon Targaryen

Aegon has always been a mind absent. His mind was mostly clouded with thoughts and he always seemed sorrow. That's what you mostly saw of him.

In the early morning, you would get up. Sometimes he wasn't even there and you found him somewhere else sleeping away. When he was there, he smelled like wine and whores. You knew from the beginning what it meant when Viserys decided to marry you to him. Aegon didn't want to do anything with you. You were his sister's daughter. His niece. And he was supposed to be the Usurper King. He took his sister's throne.

The most important part is that he didn’t trust you. You could see that in his eyes.

But he didn't care. He was hoping that you would slit his throat in his sleep. He hopped you would pierce his chest and take that damn beating thing out of there. Every night, he would get drunk and go to his whores to make you hate him. That drunk, he would lay and close his eyes in hope you would end it.

But every morning when he opened his eyes, disappointment would reach his chest. You never were in bed, your side would be long cold.

The night when he pinned you to his bed and pounded into you, he hoped you would do it. He didn't even look you in the eye. He didn't share not one kiss with you. It was all to make you hate him.

You felt pain in your body from the force he took you. He took your purity, not being once gentle about it. Not having any sympathy for you. But he is your husband. You are his wife. You are supposed to spread your legs to him.

When he was done, he just rolled off. Went to sleep. He couldn't lie to himself, it felt amazing to feel you. He hoped in the morning, they would find his King dead.

Dissapointment.

You were once again, nowhere to be seen.

That morning, you went to your dragon. A beautiful beast pitch black with gray straps on wings. Up in the clouds, it finally felt like you were free from everything. Free from the claws of The Greens.

Your heart leaped towards your mother. You wanted to go back to Rhaenyra, to your brothers. To your father. It all seems like you just could have a change of mind and fly away, but you remember the promise you gave to your mother.

Tears run down your face as she cupped it in her hands. "Mother I don't want to be away from you. Don't leave me here with them." Your voice was pleading her. As she soothed you.

"My heart hurts just from the thought I have to leave you here. But listen to me Visenya. You are the only one that can stop this. Try to reach him. Promise me."

You're here to prevent a war. And it's not doing great. Aegon is absent from you. Ignoring you with his every step.

As you lower down to the ground, you could always see on the faces of the dragon keepers that they were surprised that you didn't escape. That you didn't flee from this hell.

You slide down from your dragon and lean your head against hers. "Kirimvose ñuha gevives." Thank you my beauty.

Your dragon purred a growl to you leaning her head and nudging you. You loved her and it was you and her always. You notice your husband standing just a few feet away. His dragon, Sunfyre nuzzled his tip of the nose against Aegon.

That's when you see a smile. Beautiful smile was plastered on Aegon's face. Something in you stirred. You pat your dragons neck as you walk over to your husband, faded smile making it's way on your lips.

"He's magnificent." Aegon suddenly heard your soft voice behind him. When was the last time you said something to him? When was the last time he said something to you? He couldn't remember and it made him shocked that you even spoke to him. His eyes never left Sunfyre as he embraced the beast.

"He truly is." You heard him. When was the last time you heard his voice? When was the last time he heard yours? You didn't remember.

Your eyes didn't leave his face. To see a good emotion on him was truly rare. "You're pretty when you smile."

He froze. Did he hear you right? He was trying so damn long to make you hate him, for you to kill him and here he blew everything up, by a fucking smile?

"I wish you safe ride, husband." You lastly said as you leaved him. You knew that he wasn't bad to the core. You knew he was man starved of love. His mother never gave it to him. You knew that all she knew was to yell, scream out his mistakes and even strike a slap across his beautiful face. There was a twinge of sadness in your hear for him.

You didn't see or hear from him for the rest of the day. You didn't even think that he would come before you fell asleep. You stood by the window, undoing the last braid in your hair looking outside at silent world when you heard the doors opening.

Your head turned just a little surprise stroke you as you saw your husband entering your shared room, without any odor of wine or whores. He seemed... Normal.

Aegon found his seat on your shared bed, turned to face you. He watches your figure through your night gown. Moonlight making your face gleam with beauty your mother gave you, your hair seemed to shine. You looked too beautiful and too pure for him. He was broken. Dirty and broken from the inside. A black hole seemed to fill him everyday. It made him sick in the stomach now, to think he was ruining you.

"Why?" You heard him whisper. Your eyes found his, confusion placed on your face. "What?"

"Why?" His voice was soft, silent, kind of a broken. "Why don't you end me? Why don't you hate me? I ruined you. I took your mothers throne. I come to your bed drunk, I cheated on you and I-" He cut himself as he lowered his head down, frown on his face. "I've never been gentle with you. Why haven't you ended me by now?"

Your heart broke hearing him. You stood in front of him soon and your hands cupped his cheeks, lifting his head up. You saw pain and void in his violet eyes. "You're my husband Aegon. Everything you do, doesn't matter. You can't hurt me. I know you don't want to."

"You should've killed me."

"Can't do it. I'm your wife." He couldn't do anything to make you hate him. It drew him mad. How couldn't he fall under your pretty foot?

"Then you know your duties." He tried again, last time, he promised himself. He wanted to try to make him hate you one last time, but when a smile reached your soft features, he stopped himself.

"I do." You sat down on his lap, your legs on each of his sides, your night gown pulled up. When your lips cupped his finally, he felt like he was in heaven, something alike a soft whimper left his lips as your hands reached down and undo his pants pulling him out and stroking him slowly.

He finally starts to kiss back, his hands finding your waist holding you close. You lift yourself up and pull him by your entrance.

"Let me take care of you, my King."

#aegon the second #aegon ii #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #fire and blood #game of thrones #hotd aegon #hotd x reader #dragons #house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd spoilers #hotd #king aegon #rhaenyra targaryen

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a-little-revolution · 6 months ago

Note

oh shit i’m aware! :0 happy October!

what sort of society wide structural accommodations would you like to see in place to help/make more accessible for little people?

Aaaaah this ask is so old now I'm so sorry!! (Things can get lost among all the hate messages lol) But gosh so many things!!

• The first is step stools EVERYWHERE!!! Public access to step stools would solve most of the problems little people face with access. I'm talking bathrooms, service desks, cash registers, libraries, clothing stores - the list goes on! They could fold away for easy access, or blend in as universal design.

There's even these amazing fold up ones I've seen that get automatically tucked away to prevent tripping hazards:

The second is for grab bars such as these (see bellow) for easier toilet access to be more widespread. It's important that toilets remain the height parallel with the average wheelchair, but grab bars can make it much easier for shorter people to hoist.

Public bathroom/change room stalls that go close to/all the way to the floor! As a little person, the average stall door ends at my waist (sometimes higher) so I am not guaranteed privacy. I much prefer stalls with minimal viewing access. And as a trans person, stalls that are more private create added safety.

I would love for extended grabbing handles to be standard practice in vehicles!

These would make getting in and out of cars much easier for a little person, not to mention elderly folks, children, and other disabled people. Extra foldable steps in cars is also something I've seen and loved.

Adjustable foot hammocks on public desks and tables would be sooo goood! A big source of leg pain for me is that my legs are dangling in every chair I sit in, which cuts off circulation and semi-dislocates my loose joints. Some sort of ledge or hammock would solve this issue.

I'm sure there are many more but this is what comes to mind for now!

-Elliot (they/them)

#dwarfism #asks #disability #dwarfism awareness #accessibility #universal design

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rafestify · 29 days ago

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Beach Fight and Tides of Forgiveness — Rafe Cameron

Summary : Y/N and Rafe confront their painful past after a chaotic beach fight between Y/N and Ruthie but begin to reconnect, exploring the possibility of a hopeful future together.

Rafe Cameron x Ex!Reader (season 4 spoiler alert!)

Warning : Swearing (english is not my first language)

A/N : Probably the longest fic I've ever written so far, it's like around 2.3k ish, and i think this was a request from @dkjndfnmdfmdmnd , hope u like it 🩵

For us Pogues, the beach wasn’t just a place to visit—it was like our second home, a refuge where we felt truly ourselves. The salty breeze, the endless horizon, and the warmth of the sand beneath our feet brought a kind of peace that was hard to find anywhere else. The sound of waves crashing and seagulls chirping in the distance seemed to wash away our worries, making everything feel better, if only for a little while. There's nothing better than a day off with the people you love the most, in a place that feels like home—the beach.

“Don’t you just immediately feel like everything’s better at the beach?” Kie said, her gaze sweeping across the shoreline as she took in the sun, sand, and waves.

I nodded in silent agreement, sharing the same unspoken understanding that nothing compared to the serenity of the ocean. Together, we began setting up the chairs and cool box, the salty breeze tugging at our hair as the waves crashed in the distance. “Let’s get these boards off!” JJ exclaimed with excitement, his eyes gleaming as he headed toward the Twinkie to unload the surfboards, ready to dive into the thrill of the surf.

“What the hell?” I muttered under my breath, catching sight of Topper and his friends’ trucks rolling toward us, their engines rumbling louder as they approached. “You’re joking,” Sarah sighed, exasperation clear in her voice as she rolled her eyes at the unwelcome sight. “Don’t stop,” JJ mumbled, focused on untying the ropes securing our surfboards to the top of the Twinkie, clearly determined not to let their arrival ruin our plans. “Anywhere but here,” Kie added with a frustrated tone, her eyes narrowing as she watched them close in, the tension in the air thickening with every second.

“Great, just the perfect time,” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes as their trucks came to a halt and parked just a few meters away from us. The sudden noise and presence of Topper and his friends felt like a dark cloud looming over our sunny day, threatening to ruin the fun we had planned.

“Let’s go, baby!” The voice rang out, unmistakable and familiar, stirring a rush of memories within me. The one that used to comfort me in moments of doubt, the one that whispered soothing words to ease my fears. Rafe Cameron had a way of making everything feel right, his presence a warm embrace that felt like home. I turned to locate the source of the voice, and our eyes met—his striking blue gaze locking onto mine. The moment stretched, the world around us fading away as the connection lingered just a heartbeat too long. All of a sudden, Topper strode toward us with an air of confidence. “Sunshine's coming,” JJ remarked, earning an exasperated sigh from John B as he stepped closer to him. Though I couldn’t quite hear their conversation, they appeared surprisingly relaxed, exchanging easy banter that contrasted with the tension in the air.

We all surfed the waves together, and it felt utterly exhilarating. After months spent chasing the elusive City of Gold, finally engaging in something I was truly passionate about was a refreshing escape. The thrill of surfing, the salty spray of the ocean, and the laughter of friends combined to create a blissful sense of freedom that was simply amazing.

After surfing for what felt like hours, I made my way back to the shore, slipping into my denim shorts. “Guys, there’s a turtle hatch!” Kie exclaimed, her excitement palpable. “Y/N, look!” I rushed over to her, my heart racing as I squealed, “Oh my god!” In awe, I added, “They’re so tiny!” Sarah and I echoed each other, our voices filled with wonder at the sight of the adorable little turtles making their way to the ocean. I have always had a deep love for sea creatures, particularly turtles and dolphins. This passion is what drew Kie and me together, as we bonded over our shared fascination for the ocean's incredible inhabitants.

As we helped the tiny turtles by creating paths for them to reach the ocean, the sudden roar of a truck engine interrupted our focus. My gaze shifted to Topper’s girlfriend, Ruthie, at the wheel, with Topper himself lounging in the passenger seat. “Hey, stop! There’s a hatch!” I yelled, desperation lacing my voice. “Stop!” Kie added, jumping up and waving her arms frantically. “Guys, stop!” I shouted again, but the truck only sped up, closing the distance between us. In a split second, Sarah yanked me out of the way just as the truck barreled past, sending me tumbling into the sand with a startled grunt.

“Are you okay?” Sarah, Kie, and JJ asked in unison. I managed a quiet “I'm fine,” but a sinking feeling twisted in my stomach as I noticed the truck circling around again, this time picking up speed. Panic surged through me, and I jumped to my feet. “Stop! There’s a hatch!” I yelled, but my voice was swallowed by the roar of the engine as they barreled over the paths we had painstakingly created for the turtles. “No, no, no…no!” I gasped, horror washing over me as I watched the truck crush a few of the fragile creatures beneath its wheels. My heart raced as I rushed toward them, my pulse pounding in my ears. Kie knelt beside a turtle with a shattered shell, its life flickering away. “Fucking psycho,” she muttered, her eyes brimming with anger and sorrow. I felt a fire ignite within me, furious at their reckless disregard. Ignoring my friends’ calls, I stormed over to where they stood, determined to confront them.

“Look what you did!” I shouted, cradling the lifeless turtles in my hands. “Do you think this is okay?” Ruthie stole a quick glance at the broken shells before quickly averting her eyes. “No, look at it!” I protested, my voice rising with anger. “You drove right over a turtle hatch, you idiots!” Rafe stood beside Topper, who tried to diffuse the situation. “I understand you're upset, Y/N,” he said, his tone calm but unhelpful. I hadn't even noticed my friends were behind me, their expressions mirroring my shock and frustration. “I’m more than upset, Topper” I shot back, feeling the heat of my anger.

“Look, it was only one,” Ruthie interjected dismissively, shrugging as if it didn’t matter. “I mean, there are so many more of them,” she pointed out, trying to minimize the damage. “You know what? You should just throw that to the seagulls,” she added with a mocking tone. “Cycle of life, right?”

My breath quickened as rage boiled within me, and I couldn't take it anymore. I pushed her hard, and just as she prepared to retaliate, Rafe stepped in between us, his presence a barrier against her aggression.

“Stop,” he said firmly, pushing Ruthie’s arm away before she could retaliate. He turned to me, his eyes softening slightly. “There’s something seriously wrong with you people,” I shot back, turning on my heel and striding away, handing Sarah the lifeless turtle.

“That’s right, go back to your side, bitch! You don’t belong with us anymore!” Ruthie shouted, her words laced with venom.

That was the final straw. Rage coursed through me, boiling over as I stormed toward her, every ounce of frustration and hurt fueling my movements. Without thinking, I swung my fist and connected hard with her jaw. The impact reverberated through me, and for a heartbeat, everything froze—the shocked look on Ruthie's face, the collective gasps of my friends.

She recovered quickly, her eyes blazing with anger. Without hesitation, she lunged at me, landing a swift punch that connected with my nose. The sharp pain shot through my face, and I felt warm blood begin to trickle down. I stumbled back, shocked by the sudden turn of events, my hands instinctively going to my face. John B tried to step in, attempting to intervene but Rafe was a lot quicker than him.

“Control your crazy bitch, Top!” Rafe said, his gaze locked onto me with a mix of concern and frustration. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softening.

“Like you care,” I shot back, my frustration boiling over. Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and stormed off, seeking refuge at my secret spot on the beach alone.

I perched on top of a massive rock, my knees drawn to my chest as I hugged them tightly, listening to the soothing sound of the waves crashing below. This spot was my sanctuary, the place I retreated to whenever I felt at my lowest. It never failed to calm me, wrapping me in a cocoon of peace. Suddenly, I sensed someone behind me. I turned to find Rafe standing there, his silhouette framed by the fading light. He climbed onto the rock and settled beside me.

“I didn’t give you permission to sit here,” I protested weakly, trying to maintain some semblance of defiance.

“It’s a public place,” he replied, his voice steady as he leaned back against the rock.

I fell silent, my gaze drifting to the horizon as the sun dipped lower in the sky, lost in a swirl of memories and thoughts. “How did you know I’d be here?” I finally asked, my voice barely above a whisper. He turned to me, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. “We used to come here together, remember? You told me it was your favorite spot.” A sigh escaped me, heavy with longing. God, I missed those days—when everything felt simpler and the weight of the world was lighter.

“Here,” he said, breaking through my thoughts as he handed me a tissue for my bloody nose. I took it, our fingers brushing briefly. “Thanks,” I murmured, grateful for the gesture and the warmth of his presence.

“That was a pretty great punch, by the way,” Rafe said, a playful grin breaking through the tension. The corners of my mouth turned upward, and I let out a small chuckle, the sound echoing against the backdrop of crashing waves. We fell into a silence that felt strangely comfortable— not awkward at all. Despite the distance that had grown between us since our breakup, I still felt an undeniable sense of safety around him, as if we were wrapped in a bubble of shared history.

“I missed you, Y/N,” he confessed suddenly, his voice steady yet vulnerable.

My heart skipped a beat, and I turned to look at him, shock flickering across my face. This was the moment I hadn’t expected, the admission I had longed to hear but feared would never come.

“I missed you too, Rafe,” I sighed, the words flowing out of me, heavy with unspoken feelings and memories of our laughter, our late-night talks, and the way he could make me feel like the only person in the world. “I’m sorry for what I did to you,” he continued, his expression earnest, his gaze unwavering.

“I’m clean now, Y/N. Haven’t touched those shits for almost five months.”

“Really?” I asked, my disbelief melting into pride. I felt a swell of admiration for his strength and determination, and it made my heart ache a little.

He nodded, a flicker of vulnerability dancing in his eyes. “Yeah, I realized I couldn’t keep dragging you into my mess. I needed to change— for myself and for you.”

“I’m so proud of you, Rafe,” I said, my voice warm and genuine. I reached out, resting my hand on his for a brief moment, feeling the warmth radiate between us. A smile broke across his face, illuminating his features. “I did it all so I could be better for you,” he admitted, his sincerity wrapping around me like a comforting blanket. The air between us crackled with unspoken possibilities, and for a moment, I allowed myself to imagine what it would be like to rekindle the bond we once had.

“Can we at least try to work things out?” he asked, his gaze steady and hopeful. I paused, contemplating his words. He may have been a jerk to everyone else, but with me, he was sweet, protective, and loyal. The thought stirred something deep within me, a flicker of hope in the depths of my heart. “I’m not ready to be in a relationship again, Rafe—maybe just for now,” I finally replied, my voice softer than before. The truth of my feelings hung in the air, vulnerable and raw.

“It’s okay,” he said quickly, a reassuring smile breaking through his earlier concern. “We’ll take things slow. I’ll wait until you’re ready, alright?” The sincerity in his eyes made my heart flutter, a mix of apprehension and excitement dancing in my chest.

“Okay,” I smiled, a sense of warmth washing over me.

“Okay?” he repeated, his eyes lighting up with hope.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll take things slow,” I confirmed, feeling a rush of relief and anticipation. Rafe’s smile widened, and in that moment, it felt like we were stepping into a new chapter together, one where the past could fade into the background while we explored the potential of the future. As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, I leaned my head on his shoulder. The gentle sound of the waves lapping against the shore filled the air, creating a soothing rhythm that matched the beating of my heart. The warmth of his presence enveloped me, and I closed my eyes, letting the moment wash over me.

For the first time in a long time, I felt hope stirring within me, a belief that perhaps we could find our way back to each other, not as we were before, but as something new and beautiful.

likes and reblogs are appreciated! 🎀

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jaykaysthicthighs · 3 months ago

Text

Late Night Talks | JJK

excerpt | it's past one in the morning and you and your boyfriend talk the night away... maybe more than just talking

genre | major fluff, humor

pairing | jeon jungkook x fem!reader

rating | pg-16

warnings | strong language, some of dirty thoughts/actions, reader and jk being the cutest on earth (heart might actually burst), jk being needy, kissing, jk being unfiltered, jk being a menace, jk being a dirty dude, just jk being unhinged, reader loving the attention, reader going along with jk's playful ways, reader and jk have disgustingly cute thoughts about each other

wc | 4k+

notes | i’m finally back after so fucking long, but this is my first time writing something so heartwarming.... I AM VERY EXCITED!!! this is also very short but i hope it’s still a fun read despite that. there might be some spelling mistakes, so i’m sorry if there is… :/

The comfort of the weighted blanket and the shine of the moonlight had lulled you to sleep... that was until you felt cold rough hands roam your bare back. Your eyes popped out and you quickly squirmed away from the harsh sensation. You turned around to find the perpetrator and you came face to face with the one you call "yours".

"Jungkook!" you squealed. The biggest smile painted your beautiful face and, in that moment, you didn't care that the handsome man in front of you had ruined your amazing sleep.

Jungkook watched you with love swimming in his eyes. He watched as your alluring face shone with great surprise. A goddess you were. He also took in a quick notice on how you displayed nothing but pretty blue panties on; he almost felt himself drooling at the enchanting sight.

You lunged at your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his big build. Thankfully Jungkook knew how you get when you're excited, so the moment you took the first steps to him, he immediately knew that a big hug was taking its course. He gently held you as you both fell backwards; a loud thump echoed throughout the room. You looked down to see that your boyfriend had cushioned the fall.

His face contorted with pain, he rasped out, "You okay, baby?" You softly cupped his face and gave the pained man a chaste kiss on the lips. With his face still between your small hands, you stared into his mesmerizing brown doe-eyes. You lightly whispered against the lips of your lover, "You shouldn't be asking me that."

Jungkook saw the tenderly feeling you projected at him with your pretty eyes. He couldn't control the craving he had for you; he'd been away from you for what seemed like forever. The spell that you didn't know you were doing captivated him, and he loved every second of it.

He swiftly picked you up and gently placed you on the bed, only for him to aggressively kiss you like there was no tomorrow; the action left you breathless. But in a quick second, you replicated the same feeling back.

One hand gripped the compression shirt that Jungkook had on, wanting to be as close to him as possible. While the other hand, you raked your fingers through his soft hair gently pulling from time to time. Jungkook had one arm looped around your torso, and the other cupping your face. The kiss was getting loud and messy; moans were being swallowed by the other, teeth would clash, togues would fight for control.

You pulled away hoping to catch your breath, but Jungkook doesn't seem to want to give you that choice, because his next action knocked you ways back. Jungkook loves the way you shudder under his touch, so when you detached your lips from his, he placed his mouth on your neck, feeling your pulse rapidly going. Your neck started becoming his next meal. You couldn't keep up with the constant pleasure; you grabbed a fistful of your boyfriend's hair and pulled him away from you. Breathlessly, you demanded, "No more. I can't keep up, babe."

Jungkook pouted at your words; he scooted himself in the corner of the room and sarcastically grumbled, "You hate me, huh, ____?" You watched your boyfriend with wide eyes at his accusation. You rolled your eyes at his childish behavior and giggled under your breath. You started getting cold, so you took the initiative on finding yourself a shirt. As you dug around your dresser, you could feel the intense burn of a certain someone staring you down.

Jungkook watched you with lust building up. He could never be tired of seeing the ethereal being roaming around the place. The moonlight shining on your bare skin makes it look like you're the rarest gem he's ever seen. You could be wearing the most ridiculous outfit, and he would still think you're the most precious thing that has ever lived.

You finally found a shirt to wear that had little cats on it, and in the midst of putting on the shirt, you called out, "How long are you gonna be staring at me? I can feel your eyes burn though my back."

Jungkook slyly smirked to himself. Not wanting to admit that his eyes were thirsting for your body, he teased with sass, "Honey... what makes you think you're so special for me to look at? Hmm?"

You turned around with your mouth agape. You could see the slight glimmer of playfulness in his eyes, so to match the energy, you retorted back, "Well then, I guess you wouldn't mind if I were to post that picture on my insta, since you think that I'm not special for me to be looked at."

In a flash you saw his face drop with seriousness; that made you smile so much brighter. Jungkook on the other hand knew that you were joking, but yet the thought of others seeing that precious photo of you made his blood slightly boil. He so badly wanted to wipe that pretty smile off your face, but he loved the cuteness you displayed when you were getting on his nerves. So, wanting to keep that version of yourself a little longer he fed into your teasing.

Jungkook got up and trudged his way to your perky self. Once he was fully in front of you, he dropped his head on your shoulder and quietly pleaded, "Don't post that photo, baby, please? I will do whatever you want me to. I just can't have others seeing what's mine."

Your boyfriend's words were feeding into your ego; you felt somewhat victorious. You tapped your lips and showcased an expression that you were thinking about his words. "Hmm... well since you seem upset, I guess I won't post it, but in exchange I need you to truly beg - like down on your knees and your hands in prayer position."

Jungkook took a deep breath in when he heard those words. You never fail to make him feel disbelief from your words or actions. He lifted up his head and like the good boyfriend he is, he got down and was ready to beg... until you raised your hand and interrupted, "Hold on for a quick second. I have to get my phone."

In that moment, Jungkook felt like ripping out his hair. He inaudibly yelled and before you could grab your phone, he threw you over his shoulder.

"Jungkook!" you squealed, "What are you doing? Let me down!" Jungkook didn't reply to you, instead he ran out the room and once he reached the living room, the tall man started jumping; like you were weights, and he was doing exercises. You tried yelling out your anger, but with all the movements, all you could spout out was laughs and groans.

After what seems like forever, Jungkook finally set you down on the couch and smiled with triumph. He saw the way your chest was heaving up and down, the way your hair was all over the place, the tired expression on your face; a certain thought punched its way through his brain. With arms crossed and a content emotion painting him, Jungkook lightly laughed, "You know, baby, this view in front of me... dangerously beautiful."

You looked up at your boyfriend with heavy eyes and said, "What are you talking about?" Jungkook answered, "I'm saying that you look fucked, like I just fucked you hard and bad type-a-fucked." You leaned your head back and let out a sigh, "What the hell, Jungkook." You soon started laughing, "Why are you like this?" The man standing before you laughed as well.

With your head still leaned back you felt a deep dip right by you. You lightly tilted your head to see the view of your beautiful lover beaming with a serene expression. The love you have for this man is so evergreen. The thought that you have gained such a breathtaking partner, never fails to amaze you. The slight dimple that showcased itself the moment he smiled burst opened your heart. You immediately jumped into his lap in a straddle position and nested your head in the crook of his neck.

Jungkook grabbed tight of you and held you with such tenderness; both hands gently caressing your clothed back. This right here is home to him.

"How was work?" you spoke out.

"Hmm, it was good. Nothing to say really - oh wait... I got a new client and she -"

You quickly jerked your head up and gave your boyfriend a stern look; you interrupted, "She? Is she prettier than me?" Jungkook felt himself deeply sigh within. Every time he brings up the slightest mention of a girl you start turning into a jealous girlfriend. But Jungkook knows deep down you're only do this for attention. You will trust this man no matter what.

Jungkook softly grabbed your face and stared at you with reassurance. "Babe," he quietly proclaimed, "There is no other girl than you... and I say that with everything in me. How can I be with - even think about another woman than you? ____, believe when I say this... you are the only one for me. The only one I want to be with. Okay, you have to stop with that bullshit. You little attention seeker."

You started blushing like crazy. You knew that nobody else matter but you, but you still can't help but want to play a bit crazy. You hid your face right back to its previous position and smiled with every fiber in you. You always loved pushing his buttons.

Still red about what your lover had said, you murmured against his warm neck, "Did you at least made sure that you weren't a single man?"

Jungkook gave you slight side eye knowing that you won't be able to see his reaction. He formed his lips to a thin line and did another deep sigh. Trying to calm himself, Jungkook did little traces of circles on your smooth bare thigh. You felt this action and you knew that you got him annoyed. He always does this to make sure he doesn't have an outburst.

Before you had the chance to take back your question, Jungkook intervened, "You certainly are something, babe. I'll have you know - before you interrupted me in the beginning and said your little nonsense question - my client is a 36-year-old, gay woman. The reason why she wanted to have me as her trainer is because she wanted the woman she likes to be jealous. I'm the pawn, babe."

You mentally slapped yourself. You always did this; jump to conclusions was what you were good at. You sucked in some air through your teeth and slowly raised your head to apologize. The second you did though, Jungkook already had an expression that read "Are you happy now?".

You showed an embarrassed smile and softly laughed, "Oops." you exhaled. At that moment, Jungkook felt his heart flutter by your cuteness despite you getting him annoyed. He couldn't help but give in. He swiftly hooked one arm around your torso and the other gabbed a hold of your ass to keep you secured; he stood up and smiled at you.

The action took you by surprise but the second you saw his beautiful bunny smile you became the happiest person in that moment. You looped your arms around his shoulders and giggle, "What are you doing?" Jungkook kept quiet. Admiring you was all he could do right now; inspect every inch of that gorgeous face of yours. You saw the little twinkles in his irises and you wondered if it was the lights... it wasn't. It was all pure love that showed.

The look he gave you right now made you feel like you were the only person on this earth, that you were the only person his eyes could lay on. You felt like a goddess upon his longing stare.

"I love you."

"And I love you."

Jungkook carefully walked with you in his arms to the kitchen. He set you down on one of chairs around the kitchen island and kissed your cheek. He made his way to the cabinets and asked, "Okay, I can either make you some hot chocolate or chamomile tea. Something good and relaxing since its late. Take your pick?"

You pursed your lips while you did some thinking. "Hmm, I'll take some warm water instead, please?" Jungkook did a sharp turn of his head and gave you a grossed look. "Who the fuck drinks warm water? Oh, wait, you..." he dramatically said.

Not wanting him to get away with it, you fired back, "Who the fuck wears toe socks? Oh, hold on a minute, you... Oh, and don't get me started on who eats -"

The man before you rushed to your side and clasped his rough hand over your mouth. Your eyes gave a dirty look and you brushed his hand off from you. With playfulness lacing your words, you dared, "I can keep this going all night. So, either you give me what I asked for or I can tell you more that I have in mind. Take. Your. Pick?"

What you had said made Jungkook fall in love with you all over again. Your boldness was one of the things that caught his attention. Jungkook released some air from out his throat and grinned. "It shouldn't be, but that was fucking hot." He walked his way to fill up some water in the kettle, and added, "You know, ____, I wouldn't mind you talking like that to me again." Your breathing stopped for a quick second when those words left his mouth. Your face got a little red.

You breathed roughly through your nose and lightly exhaled with a smile, “You know, babe, you sound like you like being degraded.”

Jungkook slowly turned his head and gave you a sly smirk. You rolled your eyes at his action and softly smiled to yourself, “Stupid.” you quietly whispered.

After a few minutes Jungkook got done doing the drinks. He placed the cups on the counter with a soft clink, and you watched as the steam curled up from the hot liquid. He slid your warm water over to you, his fingers briefly brushing against yours, sending a small thrill through your veins.

He settled into the chair beside you, his knee grazing yours under the table. You both knew this comfortable proximity, this quiet intimacy, was something special. It was in these small moments that the bond between you deepened, wordlessly.

Your buff bunny took a sip of his hot chocolate, his eyes never leaving yours, the warmth of the drink mirroring the warmth that filled the space between you two. "You know," he began, his voice soft and teasing, "there are a lot of things I'd let you get away with, but not with that look you just gave me."

You chuckled, lifting your cup to your lips. The warmth of the water soothed you, but it was his presence that really made you feel at ease. "And what look was that?" you asked, your voice a bit huskier than usual. You knew that he knew what you were doing, and he’s loving every second of it.

He shrugged nonchalantly, though the mischievous gleam in his eyes betrayed his true feelings. "That look that says you're always one step ahead of me. It's infuriatingly attractive," he admitted, leaning in closer.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile. This man was too much for your tiny heart. "So what you're saying is, you like it when I have the upper hand?"

Jungkook’s a competitive guy, but you’re a different case. "Only when it's you," he replied without missing a beat. The sincerity in his voice made your heart flutter. "But don't think I'm going to let you have it all the time. I have my ways of keeping up."

You couldn't help but laugh at that. "Is that so? And how do you plan on doing that?" He grinned, setting his cup down and reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was tender, sending a shiver down your spine. "Oh, I have my ways. But you'll just have to wait and see."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Is that a challenge, Jungkook?" You saw his eyes sparkled with excitement. "Only if you're up for it, baby. You know I love a good challenge.”

"You're on," you replied, your voice filled with determination.

The night was quiet, save for the occasional sounds of the kettle clicking off or the gentle hum of the refrigerator. Outside, the world was still, wrapped in the serenity that comes with the late hours of the night. Inside, however, the air between you and Jungkook was electric, charged with a playful energy that neither of you could resist.

As the minutes ticked by, you found yourself leaning more into the conversation, your words flowing easily as you teased and bantered with him. He matched you word for word, never backing down, always ready with a witty retort or a flirty comment that made your heart race.

At one point, your lover leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at you with a satisfied smile. "I think I'm winning," he declared, his tone smug. You rolled your eyes, but couldn't hide your smile. "You wish. I'm just getting started."

He laughed, the sound deep and rich, filling the space with warmth. Ohh how you love that sound with everything you have. "That's what I love about you, ____. You're always ready for more."

His little comment got you paused for a moment, your smile softening. Jungkook saw the small action and every time you smiled his love meter rises - and boy-oh-boy the bar is stretching across the galaxy. "And what else do you love about me?" you asked, your voice quiet, almost hesitant.

Jungkook met your gaze, his expression serious now. "Everything," he said simply. "Your strength, your kindness, your ability to keep me on my toes. The way you make me laugh, the way you challenge me. I love all of it. I don’t think I’ll be able to function - even live properly without you, ____. Your whole existence… I need that. I would tell you millions of reasons on why I love you, but then I would have to write a whole novel."

His words took you by surprise, and for a moment, you were speechless. It wasn’t rare for Jungkook to tell you how much he loves you, but it was certainly rare for him to say such deep feelings like that - you hadn't expected him to be so open, so honest. But then again, that was Jungkook. He always had a way of surprising you, of showing you sides of himself that you hadn't seen much before.

You reached out, placing your hand on his warm soft cheek. "I love you too," you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. His eyes softened, and he nuzzled his face more against your hand. "I know," he replied, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

The moment was intimate, filled with a quiet understanding that didn't need words. It was in these moments that you realized just how deep your connection with Jungkook was. It wasn't just about the teasing or the playful banter. It was about the love that had grown between you, the bond that had strengthened over time.

He placed his hand on top of yours and squeezed it gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "Come on," he said after a while, his voice soft. "Let's finish our drinks and get to bed. I wanna lay down and touch some boobs.”

You playfully grabbed some of his hair pulling it while trying to display an annoyed expression. In the midst of you doing that, Jungkook wanted to push your button a bit more… so he moaned.

“Babe!” You yelled out. You clasped your hand on his mouth trying to shut him up, but it just made him moan even louder. Jungkook was having so much fun, to the point where he even produce tears from all the laughing.

After that small fiasco, everything dialed down. Jungkook stood up and offered you his hand, but you didn’t want to accept it because of how much he pissed you off, “Stop being stubborn and take my damn hand, babe.” Jungkook groaned out. “No.” You simply said.

Jungkook yet again threw you over his shoulder just like last time. While walking his way to your guy’s room, you had your face down, keeping a close eye on your boyfriend’s lovely plump ass.

Once in the bedroom, Jungkook let go of you to pull back the covers, a smile playing on his lips as he watched you climb into bed. He quickly took off his clothes - just leaving him in his boxers and slid in beside you. He pulled the blanket over the both of you, his arm instinctively wrapping around your waist as your back perfectly rested along his front.

You felt a movement towards your chest; it was slow and steady. Just a second later you felt a rough hand softly grope one of your boobs. You quietly sighed, “This is all you’re doing. Better not have any other ideas, babe.” Jungkook gave a hum as a response and pulled you even closer.

The room was dark, save for the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains. You could hear the steady rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his body pressing against yours. It was in moments like these that you felt the most connected to him, as if the world outside didn't matter as long as you were together.

Jungkook shifted slightly, his hand running up and down your smooth tummy in slow, soothing strokes. Everything was feeling and going so good, until your idiot boyfriend ruined the moment.

“Can we fuck?”

“Shut the hell up and sleep.”

Everything was silent. Few seconds later you both giggled like kids having their first sleepover. You turned around and gave your love a kiss. Jungkook wanted to kiss you longer but he knew to respect your boundaries.

“Fuck… you get me too excited.”

“Hashtag ‘lol’”

Jungkook felt like crying at your stupid comment but the tiredness was catching up to him. “Alrighty then, babe, we have a big day later so let’s sleep now.”

“Okey dokey.”

“I love you, ____.”

“I love you, Jungkook.”

As you drifted off to sleep, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of contentment. The night had been perfect, filled with laughter, love, and the kind of quiet moments that you cherished. And as you lay there, wrapped up in his arms, you knew that there was nowhere else you'd rather be.

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moonstruckme · 2 months ago

Note

Okay I’ve been thinking of request ideas for Thawing Out all day while I was at work 😂 What about if something happened with her on the way to practice (nothing serious but maybe it shook her up a bit) and she was late and clearly acting off? Obviously her boys are going to notice…

Love you as always, hope you’re doing amazing! 💖💖💖

Thank you Amber my love!!! Hope you like it <3

collab with @ellecdc

cw: modern au, chronic pain, mention of harassment

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.6k words

You come into the rink with quick, determined steps, blitzing past every door in your path until you get to the bleachers. Sirius is already on the ice, Remus leaned against the boards while he watches. Both boys turn when you sit down.

“Hello,” Sirius calls, clearly chuffed to have you here as a buffer between him and your bristly coach. “Where’s my latte?”

“No time today,” you say back. You jam your foot into a skate.

Remus gives you a scrutinous look. “You alright?”

“Fine. Sorry I’m late.”

You get your skates on in record time, laced up tight enough to hurt. Sirius is ready for you in your starting position, his hands firm on your shoulders. He gives a little squeeze, meant to coax a smile out of you, but you’re in no mood.

“I was just fucking with you about the latte,” he says lowly. “I don’t need it to get through practice, though he has been especially insufferable this morning.”

You glance at Remus. He looks the same as always, half relaxed and half watchful. He and Sirius have fallen into a routine of petty spats that you suspect don’t exactly make him look forward to practice every morning, and yet he seems to be getting used to the both of you. He’s less curt than he had been during your first few days together.

“You only say that because you were here alone with him,” you say.

“It didn’t help. Without you here he’s in his most unfiltered, fogey form.”

Your skating is as near to flawless as it’s been in weeks. You throw yourself into each jump with everything you have, using the hot emotions simmering beneath your skin to your advantage. And it works. Remus looks caught offguard but directs several nods of approval your way, whereas Sirius is all untempered joy. His grin widens with each flawless landing, and when you finish your most difficult move in the routine he actually whoops. You think you see Remus’ lips twitch at that.

“There she is!” Sirius grips your hand, squeezing tight as you go into a synchronized arabesque. His hair is pulled back into a bun, but a couple of loose pieces flutter around his face as he skates backwards. He looks so happy for you, and some of that tight feeling you’ve been carrying around all morning dissipates. You smile back at him.

You both go into a lutz. It’s a jump you’ve done half a million times. It should be a given, perfect every time. And yet you catch your mistake in midair.

You land on your hands and knees.

You pant a couple of times, and your next breath scrapes on the way in. Tears press at your eyes horrifyingly fast, like they’ve only been waiting for their chance. You press your nose to the ice.

Skates hiss until they’re next to you, Sirius’ hand on your back.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

You shake your head, humiliated by your fall and even more so by this fracturing, how easily it came on. You feel pathetic.

“Where is it?” Sirius’ voice climbs, growing shrill with panic. “Let me see. How bad is it?”

He’s trying to sit you up, hands cold and gentle and frantic, but his touch stills when a warmer one meets your shoulder.

“Are you hurt?” Remus asks.

“No.” You finally find your voice, but it’s pitchy and awful. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck. Fucking hell.” In the next second you’re smushed against Sirius, who hugs you tight as soon as he knows he doesn’t have to be delicate with you. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry.” Your face feels hotter than hot in the cold rink. You push into your eyes with your fingertips. “God, what the fuck! I thought I fixed it. I don’t understand why this is still happening.”

You’re sobbing now, tiny explosions that start in your chest and ricochet all the way through you, but fuming all the same.

“You were both right, I’m holding myself back. I thought I could stop, but it just keeps happening, and I can’t do this. I’m so incompetent I can’t even do a fucking lutz. We need to find Sirius a new partner. I can’t hold us back anymore, I—”

“Hey.”

Remus’ voice is harsh, but not as harsh as Sirius’ grip on you turns at the sound of it. Your partner’s face goes sharp and cruel in an instant, an animal bearing its teeth.

Remus pays him no mind. He keeps his eyes on yours, firm and unrelenting. “Don’t speak about yourself that way,” he says.

You feel Sirius’ hold slacken in surprise.

Another tear trudges down your face, and Remus’ expression gentles. “Everyone falls,” he tells you. “You have been improving, faster than I thought was possible, but you can’t expect it to happen all at once. You’re still going to fall sometimes. It’s alright. We’re working on it, yeah?”

You sniff, wiping underneath your eyes. “Yeah,” you squeak out. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry. Just give yourself some grace, yeah?” His lips press together in a little grimace that’s likely meant to be a smile. “It’s my job to be hard on you, not yours. You’re allowed to fuck up. It doesn’t make you incompetent, or unworthy of competing with Sirius. You are the best person to be his partner. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be here, understand?”

“Yeah.” You take a deep breath in. “Thank you.” It stutters a bit on the way out, catching on another tiny sob you can’t help. This one comes from a place of relief, but Sirius’ cold fingers dig into your arm anyway and Remus’ brows twitch slightly as though it hurts him, too.

“No problem,” he says softly. “Are you sure you haven’t hurt yourself?”

You nod, closing your eyes to will yourself calmer.

“Good. Do you want to leave off early today?”

You swallow and start to stand. “No. I’m okay.”

“No.” Sirius’ voice is bemused enough to sound like a question. He rises beside you, looking at you like he’s trying to puzzle you out. “No, something’s up with you today. We should stop.”

Remus seems to go along with him, starting back towards the opening in the boards, and you think wryly that if one good thing comes from all this it might be those two finally starting to get along. You also realize for the first time that Remus is out here with you on the ice. It’s the first time you’ve seen him so much as think about coming off of the bleachers, even if he is only in regular shoes and leaning heavily on his good hip as he makes his way back towards them.

“I’m okay,” you repeat to Sirius.

He shakes his head. “You’ve been weird since you got here. What happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“Something did.”

You push out a frustrated breath. “Nothing relevant.”

“But something did happen.”

He’s steering you towards the exit now. It feels petulant to rip away and stay on the ice even if no one else will, though that’s what you’d really like to do.

“Are you actively trying to piss me off?” you ask him.

Sirius shrugs, stepping onto the floor. “If that’s what’s going to work. I only want to know what got you so upset.”

“Nothing.”

“Here we are again. Back to ‘nothing.’”

Remus is watching you both like you’re a show his TV has randomly flipped to. Tentative of where he stands, but definitely entertained.

You hate that this has become such a big thing. “It’s really nothing,” you say, planting yourself on the bench with a force that perhaps belies your claim. “It was just some git on the way here this morning.”

Sirius’ eyebrows go up while Remus’ come down.

“And what did this git have to say to you?” Sirius asks.

You sigh, starting to unlace your skates since apparently practice is over. “It’s not what he said. He only asked me out, which is fine, but then he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He, like, grabbed onto my arm and wouldn’t let go for a bit.”

Sirius’ expression goes stormy. It’s almost as bad as the look he’d given Remus earlier, only without a target to be directed at. “Are you fucking joking?”

“It was fine,” you say. “I made it here, didn’t I? It just freaked me out a little. And pissed me off.”

“Yeah, you should be pissed!” Sirius starts pacing, mindless of the indents his blades are putting into the rubber flooring. “Who does that? Did he think—what, you were just going to have to go out with him if he took you captive?”

“I don’t know.” You give him a dead-eyed stare. “I didn’t ask him.”

“God, you should be able to walk to fucking practice in the morning without being accosted by—by some—”

“Do you need someone to walk with you in the mornings?” Remus seems uninterested in waiting to hear what creative insult Sirius comes up with for the git. He looks at you steadily, his jaw tight but ready to accept whatever answer you give him.

“No,” you say. “Like I said, it was really nothing.”

“It upset you,” he says matter-of-factly. “That’s not nothing.”

“I can walk you.” Sirius plonks down beside you on the bench, seeming to have come to a decision. “Just wait for me inside tomorrow morning, and I’ll come pick you up.”

You can’t help but smile at that. “If I leave it to you, we’ll never get here. There’ll never be another morning practice again.” Remus’ tongue pokes into his cheek like he’s repressing a grin.

“Wha—so little faith!” Sirius sputters, straightening before he’s so much as touched his laces. “I’ll be there, okay? We will be needing to pick up my coffee on the way here, though.”

You give him a skeptical look. “You realize I wake up a half hour earlier to have time to get those?”

“Fucking hell! Do you really?”

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cosmicanakin · 10 months ago

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★ FULL OF SURPRISES.

੭୧ . . . vinnie hacker x female!reader.

ᯓ helping vinnie in the garage, your knowledge, and skills with cars over the years come to surface, unveiling a secret you'd kept hidden.

warning(s) fluff┆explicit language┆smut┆︎thigh riding┆︎fingering┆︎breeding kink. 𓇼 while i was scrolling through pinterest, i fell down a rabbit hole of photos of vinnie working on cars. eighteen plus! adult content | minors do NOT interact.

　✧⠀ ⠀⠀　𓈒　⠀⠀ ⠀૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ꪆৎ masterlist.

the soft clanking and muttered curses drifting from the garage pull you away from your mindless scrolling on your phone. you glance at the clock, noticing it's past midnight already. vinnie told you he'd be done working on his car by now but it seems he's hit another snag in repairs.

sighing, you slide off the couch and pad down the hallway. vinnie's bent over the open hood distractedly turning a wrench, smears of grease decorating his gray tank top and forearms in a way that makes your heart flutter. you admire his toned physique for a moment, always loving when he gets hands on.

"any luck, babe?" you ask softly, not wanting to startle him. vinnie jerks up with a grimace, rubbing the back of his neck. "ah, no not yet. this damn fuel pump is being a real pain in my ass. i've replaced every other part but it just won't prime right."

he kicks the tire in frustration earning a soft chuckle from you. striding over, you stand on your tiptoes to peer into the engine compartment. years spent helping your dad under the hoods of countless vehicles have given you more than a casual understanding.

"mind if i take a look?" you inquire, already sliding some gloves from the table beside you. vinnie gapes at you in disbelief. "i had no idea you knew about cars, babe," disbelief colors his tone but you can also detect a hint of thrill at discovering another layer to you.

"my dad always said it's a good skill for any woman to have. now scoot over, let me see what's going on." vinnie readily obliges, interest overtaking his previous annoyance as you step into his place. running an analytical eye, you soon spot the issue.

"ah, there's your problem. the fuel filter is badly clogged, no wonder it can't draw fuel properly. just needs a replacement, should clear it right up." you declare confidently, removing the filter to examine. vinnie peers over your shoulder in amazement.

"damn baby, you never cease to surprise me. i'm seriously so impressed right now, you've got me feeling all kinds of things." he purrs against your ear, hands sliding around your waist from behind. a shiver runs down your spine at his breath on your skin but you maintain focus, humming thoughtfully.

"flattery will get you everywhere mister, now hand me the socket wrench so i can get this fixed," you demand gently, holding a hand back expectantly. vinnie hurriedly passes you the tool, enthralled by your take-charge demeanor. within minutes the new filter is installed and you're reassembling the compartment.

flicking your gloves away, you turn to face vinnie's adoring gaze with a smile. "alright big man, give her a start, and let's see if that did the trick." he grins, pressing a swift kiss to your lips in thanks before jumping into the driver's seat.

the cars roars to life on the first try, rumbling smoothly without any hiccups. vinnie whoops loudly, leaning out the window with glee. "fuck baby, you're amazing! that was the perfect fix. come here, i gotta give you a proper reward."

giggling, you allow vinnie to tug you into his lap as he's sat in the driver's seat. his mouth latches onto your neck desperately, hands roaming your sides. "i'm so turned on by how smart and skilled you are. drives me crazy knowing you could probably rebuild this engine from scratch if you wanted," he growls between kisses.

heat pools low in your belly at his adoring praise. you slide his hands up under your shirt, craving his touch. "mhm, maybe i will someday just to watch you swoon. but for now..." twisting, you capture vinnie's lips hungrily.

he sighs into the kiss, deepening it instantly as his tongue delves between your parted lips. you rock against his firm thigh. vinnie groans, hands gripping your hips to guide your movements.

"fuck, i need you so bad. let's take this inside, i wanna worship your perfect body properly." he breathes heavily, pupils blown wide with want. you nod eagerly, already scrambling from his lap toward the house. vinnie follows, hastily towing you the rest of the way by your wrist.

as soon as the bedroom door clicks shut he's pinning you against it feverishly. your shirt disappears followed by his as he assaults your collarbone with rough kisses and nips. a gasp escapes your throat, grabbing handfuls of his hair to encourage the delicious treatment.

vinnie hikes your legs around his waist, lifting as if you weigh nothing at all. the hard line of his erection presses relentlessly against your core through the multiple layers still separating you, seeking friction. you grind down needily, desperate for more contact.

"slow down, baby, 'm not going anywhere," he pants, carrying you to the bed and laying you out like a feast. vinnie quickly divests the rest of your clothing, gazing in awe at your naked form beneath him.

"so perfect, and all mine." his worshipping words steal your breath, stomach clenching deliciously. when his mouth latches onto a pert nipple to suckle, you cry out loudly at the exquisite sensation.

vinnie takes his time lavishing each breast and curve of your body with wet kisses and love bites, mapping every sensitive spot until you're writhing and begging for more. finally his fingers dip to your dripping core, circling your swollen clit teasingly.

"fuck vinnie!" you babble, back arching off the mattress at his feather light touches. he chuckles darkly, sinking two digits into your core. "you take my fingers so well baby. bet you'll feel even better wrapped around my cock though, what do you think?"

a choked moan is your only response, eyes rolling back as he pumps his fingers leisurely. vinnie slowly adds a third, stretching your entrance deliciously full. his thumb rolls firm circles over your clit in time, driving you to the edge at an agonizing pace.

just as your orgasm begins to crest, he removes his hand entirely leaving you keening. vinnie stands to remove the last of his clothing, hard length jutting proudly from his slender hips. the sight alone could make you cum but he hasn't given permission yet.

crawling back over you, vinnie slots his cock against your dripping entrance and leans down to claim your mouth in a filthy kiss. "gonna make you feel so good, fuck you senseless until you can't remember your name. that's what you want isn't it?"

you whimper desperately, nodding fervently against his lips. "please, i want to feel you so deep inside me. use me as rough as you like, i'm all yours baby." his restraint snaps, and with one powerful thrust, he's fully seated to the hilt within your clenching heat.

you cry out loudly at the relentless stretch, walls spasming deliciously around his girth. vinnie groans deeply, staying locked in place to adjust before beginning a punishing rhythm of hard, deep strokes. his hips snap violently, balls slapping your swollen flesh with each impact.

all you can do is hold on for dear life, nails raking down his sweat slicked back as he fucks you into oblivion. vinnie pistons his hips with animalistic drives, pounding directly into your most sensitive spots unerringly. a constant litany of filthy praises tumble from his pretty lips, only spurring you nearer the edge.

"fuck you look gorgeous taking my cock sweet girl, your pussy was made for me i swear. gonna fill you up, have your belly swollen with my babies, you want that, baby? want me to come inside you while i fuck my name out of that beautiful mouth?"

the depraved imagery plunges you over at last, walls constricting vinnie's member in a vice grip. your orgasm tears through you with ruthless intensity, eyes rolling back as you scream his name. he chases his own release, fucking you through the aftershocks until spilling deep within your quivering channel with a guttural groan.

collapsing together in a sweaty heap, you trade sloppy kisses and whispered 'i love you's' while coming down from ecstasy. vinnie curls around your sated form protectively, pressing sweet affection into any skin he can reach.

"you never cease to amaze me, sweetheart. i love how full of surprises you are, constantly keeping me on my toes. and damn do i love when you take charge like that, so fucking hot." he sighs contentedly, nuzzling your hair.

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anantaru · 10 months ago

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cw.・✶ ｡ i wrote this with my pussy, [ex]plicit, riding, also typed this in under 5min i am speed, fem! reader

in addition to dr. ratio's otherworldly mind, veritas was a man of an assembly of skills. although for one, he finds himself questioning his abilities of being in charge of his emotions when you slowly sink down on him while settled on his lap. a blush of roses, that eyeful of champagne pink, housing on his cheeks when he rests his hands over your hips.

his gentle guidance has taught you how to move your body on his— and even if you were clumsy before, you certainly know what to do now. veritas was always able to see right through you— a peek of dominance studying your reactions, most definitely when you were in a vulnerable position such as exposing your bare body to him.

a thrust of his has you faltering when your legs part and frame his narrow waist, and you stifle a moan as he drags you back and forth on his lap, groaning lowly in approval as you settle your arms around his neck when you burn your face into the flesh. "hm? too much?" veritas had an indistinctive color in his tone that made it hard for you to decipher if he was enjoying this as much as you did, his voice low and gravel alike, but the tempting lust was all in his eyes.

"no!" you whine, "no, no, no," before you feel a gentle kiss at the tip of your nose, "feels amazing, doesn't it?" he digs his fingers into your hips as his knuckles turn white due to the strength he put behind, throwing you a glare when you hiss out at the mild pain.

in that split second before his next thrust, every nerve in your body and brain was being targeted, electrified when his erection splits you apart and brands its size into your flesh. for you, it was certainly the anticipation of his movements, how veritas would never let you know his next step— or when he will decide to move himself in and out of you again.

but being together, moving as one in such way, was more than pleasure and the act of sex itself, in a way it's so completely palpable and glimpsing at ones soul.

dwelling in the air, there were pheromones and the scent of sex when you moan in tandem with your liquid movements. you moan and squeal delicately as he fills you till overflow on every last thrust of his cock taking your breath away, the squelches of flesh slapping at each bounce, or the stickiness of skin against skin filling the room as you rock your hips up against him.

#hsr x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio smut #dr ratio x you #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #hsr dr ratio #veritas ratio x reader #veritas ratio smut #hsr drabbles #honkai star rail drabbles #dr ratio drabbles

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pedge-page · 18 days ago

Text

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: From Party of Two, to Family of Three

Sunday Surprise takes place right before this, but not necessary for this part

notes: you guys already know this is my favorite little crackhead family. While we've been enjoying Sarah's adventures out of order for a while, lot of people have been asking when we'll meet Ellie. Which I didn't feel it was right until we actually see Sarah's birth! So here she is. Please enjoy!

warnings: childbirth (not too graphic), a shit ton of language, comedy and fuff

- - - -

They say childbirth is a miracle. It's the single greatest, most amazing, most heavenly, life giving, breath of fresh air day of any parent’s life.

What they don't say (almost as if conveniently forgetting to even mention it) is that the moments leading up to the birth are the single most excruciating, marathon through the worst hell of a nightmare.

"YOUUU. YOUUUUUU MOTHER FUCKING--FUUCCKKEERRRR!!" The banshee (his wife, you) next to him in the car screeches directly into his ear, a death grip on his forearm.

He’s one handing these turns, blowing more red lights than he's ever yelled at Tommy for, while ready to lose his right hand to your talons and his hearing to your incessant wails.

"fuck YOU!OOOOWWAHAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"

You squeeze your eyes shut, head crouched down while another wave of contractions splinters your insides apart. Every muscle known and unknown in your body is engaged.

"We're almost there, you’re gonna make it--"

"YouFUCKINGfuckSTICkofaFuCkFuckshitheadfuckingbastard mothershitstainfrigginFUCK!"

You'd bash his head against his window repeatedly if your other hand wasn't already occupied cupping your rupturing belly.

Joel’s never been simultaneously in control and losing it inside all at once. He’s got one goal right now: get you to the hospital in one piece.

That goes for driver safety but also to ensure the baby does NOT come out prior that because lord help him he would not know what comes next.

The truck screeches to a halt at the parking lot in 3 spaces. Joel tumbles out of the seat, missing a step and stumbling clumsily to his hands and knees on the pavement. He doesn’t even brush off the bruises and dirt as he’s running to you. You’ve nearly thrown him over again by how fast you swing the door open.

Both his sturdy, reliable, big hands are there for you when you take them, hoisting yourself with an agonizing yelp.

“You’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay, baby momma, you’re—“

“FUCK!!!!!”

You’re clutching your belly, now way lower than it ever has been. Each step feels like fire, with Joel cradling your back and trying to get you to the front door with quick steps.

“Baby! Baby now!” Joel shouts, pointing to you with wild and pleading eyes.

You let out a horrendous scream, stopping in your tracks. Your spine, your bones, your head, and especially your stomach, is all being hit by a truck right fucking now. And you’re crying, you’ve never cried like this. It’s not the fake shit he’s gotten so accustomed to when you want a cookie or milkshake or pussy eating. This is real.

They get you in a chair and wheel you off to the delivery unit, your hand squeezing the shit out of Joel’s but he’s never once let go. He’s gone so pale, running and running alongside you, trying to answer their questions about when it started, how long, what was due date, etc.

He’s doing a million things at once, and you’re just fighting to stay alive.

Oh, you also would forget everything you were saying at this moment. But thankfully, Joel, and the entire fucking hospital, wouldn’t.

“YOU FUCKING, COCK—FUCKER—SHIT FUCKCUnt cunt CUNT! FUCK-OHM Y MOTHERFUCKING GOD FUCK.”

They manage to get you stripped to the papery gown, push your ass onto the bed, spread you wide so the doctor can take a look.

They’re all so calm, walking around and nodding, hooking you up like you’re just here for a checkup, like they’ve done this a thousand times before.

Joel feels the worst stabbing pain along his skull as your nails dig into his hair and yank him down to your face.

“MILLER,” you seethe, venom and sweat breaking through your clenched teeth and slitted eyes.

“Y-yes?”

You force out harsh pants, groaning, but making sure he understands you clearly right fucking now. “Give me. A fucking. Epidural.”

“I-“

“NOW!!!!”

He looks around for some assistance. “Ep—is there an--”

“WHERES THE FUCKING EPIDURAL.”

Joel makes contact with the nurse, who checks below your legs again before resurfacing with the look Joel feared above all else. While you’re heaving and and moaning in pain, Joel receives the nonverbal confirmation she passes to him:

It’s too fucking late for an epidural.

Both Joel and the nurse also pass a clear, mutual understanding about how to pass that info on to you:

“ITS COMING!” He nods reassuringly to you, exceedingly over the top acting. “Right nurse? See she said it’s coming!”

“Any second now, we’ll get that epidural—“ she agrees, nodding and nodding with a thumbs up to you extra confidence.

“FUUUUCCCCKCKKKKKK,” you sink lower, back falling and head tossed as wave of new pain ripples through you.

“FUUCCKKING —Fuck J-Joel. Joel Miller—“

“yes baby, I’m here.”

“Im getting a fucking epidural.”

“Yes you fucking are.”

“You fuckers aren’t lying to me?”

Joel glances at the nurse again, who quickly shakes her head at you with her calm, straightforward, trusting voice of reason: “No ma’am we would never.”

Praise this woman, he thinks. “That’s right baby she’s telling ya, its coming—“

“I’ll FUCKING kill you, Joel Miller. Do you know that?”

“Yes-“

“I fucking HATE you right now.”

“Yes—“

“You shit—fuck bag motherfucker, I HATE you—you—you—“ and you start sobbing “—did this to me!”

“I did—“

“YOU!”

“ME.”

Back again to an angered, snarling beast, you growl, “I’ll rip your fucking cock off. I’m fucking you up so fucking bad when we get home, you can never FUCKIN’ do this fucking shit to me again. Balls in the fucking blender.”

“Balls in the blender,” he repeats with absolute conviction, not an ounce of protest in him.

“The FUCkING blender—you hear me fucker?”

“The fucking blender, for sure baby, anything you want right after this.”

“Ugh--oh dfuck Joel its coming!”

“Yeah?” He asks, and its the first time he hears his own voice waver. Holy fuck this is it. This is the moment for the last 9 months its actually here—

“Just another contraction,” the doctor confirms casually.

FUCK DOC HOW LONG DOES THIS TAKE I can’t feel my skull!

“CUNT SUCKER!” You scream, holding Joel’s head hostage as you chant through your breathing pants.

“Any where’s my MOTHERFUCKING epidural!”

“It’s coming! It’s coming!” Joel nods to his now best friend nurse, who’s also nodding dramatically to keep you distracted from the epidural that is absolutely not on its way.

“Miller,” you growl, shoving his nose right against yours. You stare into his very soul, like Death herself ripping his life choices out of his body and spilling them under your eyes. “I think that Bitch is lying to me. There’s no fucking epidural coming, is there.”

“There is, baby, she said it herself, I checked…”

“Are you fucking lying to me Miller?”

“Never baby, we’d never lie to you, right?” He gestures to the nurse again, who nods diligently again. “See baby, no lying, we’d never lie.”

He watches your jaw drop, voice disappear as another roar is ripped from your chest..

“I can’t do this.”

“You can, you can and will. I’ll give you anything you want, right after you do this.”

“I want you fucking DEAD.”

“Sure thing. Want a divorce too?”

“I’m CONSIDERING IT,” you bark a baritone lower like the devil. “FuuuUUUCCCKKKK!!!!!”

“I’ll get the papers printed right up. Favorite pen signed an’ all. But only after you have this baby tonight—“

The doctor checks the monitor again just as you let out a piercing scream.

“Ma’am it’s time to push.”

“YOU PUSH!” You shout, waving your arm at him but unable to put a curse to the end of it. Your pains are coming through quicker, no longer waves but an unyielding rumbling as the baby kicks and punches and squirms and—

Joel is by your side, taking your hand in his. He’s prepped this speech in his head a million times, every night, every time he felt that baby kick or watched you struggle to tie your shoes, every single second, he’s perfected it:

“It’s here. Its happening. You’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do this together, you and me, right now—“

“Nope.”

“We—what?”

Your voice is calm and face plain. “Changed my mind. Not having this baby.”

“Yes you for fucking sure are.”

“Nope no. I’m returning it. Got the receipt.”

“There—there IS NO RECEIPT.”

“Yes—I got it—90 day warranty—“ your face tightens, clenching out the last word as if you’re mentally willing this baby to not pop out right now. But by god this baby is not taking your bullshit any longer.

“We are way past the 90 day warranty, honey, you’re having this baby, TODAY, Right NOW!”

“Nope, nope I’m gonna suck it back in!”

It seems all ability to ‘suck it back in’ has failed, as the nurse shouts clearly “I see a head!”

Your voice breaks in the most heart wrenching “I CAN’T—“ you sob, terror in your voice.

You scream again, and it’s the worst thing Joel’s ever heard. He feels like a kid again, for the first time in a long while, when his parents fought, and the sounds of their voices carried upstairs to his and Tommy’s bedroom. He wanted to run, hide in the closet, cover his ears, cradling himself and rock back and forth, shut his eyes and his mind out, drain everything away. Instead, he held Tommy, he watched Tommy, he calmed Tommy. He bared the brunt of it, and the fear, he learned to control it.

The control is gone. He’s fearing again. And it’s not his parents having an argument over watermelon seeds, but his wife experiencing the most unimaginable pain right now, and it’s because of him, it really is, just like you said. Worse than nails on a chalkboard, glass in his eyes, fire on his feet. He’s so scared, everything he had tried to train for, for you, for this moment, is collapsing before him, and he’s not gonna make it—

Every fiber in his body grips your hand more tightly than possible. “You can,” he says, sturdy yet trembling. He’s scared.

He’s always known what to do, what comes next, how to make your pain and sadness and tears go away. He’s perfected it, knowing what to get you or what to say to make it all better, but now? He doesn’t know what comes next. Doesn’t know how to make it stop, help you through it, take your worries and griefs—you’re on your own and he’s just next to you, and its not enough, and he can’t help, and he doesn’t know what to do—He doesn’t know what to do-Hedoesntknowwhattodo!

“Hey.”

He feels a gentle hand on his shoulder; the nurse who’s holding all the pieces of his heart and sanity together. She looks at him, focused, locked in from the moment your wailing, miserable self was wheeled in here, and has been doing everything he can’t.

“We’re right there. I need you to ground her,” she says. “Can you do that?”

He nods, tightening his lips. He remembers your hand in his now, remembers where he is, in this moment, and its all the matters.

He’s here. And he wants—needs you to know he’s not going anywhere.

He calls your name. “It’s time, okay baby?” Steady. Reassuring. Level headed. Strong. Rock. Crutch. Love. Everything he’s good at. Everything you know him by. “I need you to push.”

You shake your head again, eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenching hard. But he nods, because he’s gonna do the nodding, and the yes’ing, and he’s gonna take everything that’s ever caused you wrong or pain or sadness away because it’s what he does.

It’s what makes him keep going.

“FUCK! MOTHER———MOTHERFUCKER!!!!AHHHHHHHHH!!”

“Keep going!” The nurse encourages. “Dad, you’re doing great, keep getting her to focus—“

“I’M NOT GETTING MY FUCKING EPIDURAL!!!!!!!!!!!!” You sob in finality, the truth seeping into your bones. “YOU FUCKING—MOTHERFUCKING CUNNT SHIT STICK LITTLE BI—“

“For Christ’s sake, SHUT THE FUCK UP!” The nurse howls, and the entire room goes silent, even you. Joel stares at her dumbfounded.

‘“The baby. Is HERE,” she huffs definitively.

“Now fucking—PUSH!”

Joel’s heart has stopped.

He doesn’t know where it is, but he knows it’s no longer in his body.

Its not until he hears the first, most beautifully devastating croak of an angelic cry that he’s felt his heartbeat resume again, and its being cradled gently by the nurse as she pulls the tiniest, wrinkliest, most precious thing on this planet from between your legs.

“Congratulations, mom and dad. A healthy, happy baby girl.”

There’s no way this little—thing—this… bean—can be a baby. It’s the size of both his hands together, and so incredibly delicate, my god, weighing almost nothing and yet the sheer weight of who she is has him nearly capsizing at this very moment.

She’s wrapped delicately in cloth, face and nostrils wiped of fluids before landing gracefully in your outstretched arms. And it’s like the cosmos has realigned in harmony.

No amount of sweat, tears, crazy hair and braised skin, torn clothing and achy muscles could possibly deter the absolute love bursting from your chest as you hold the tiny baby in your grasp. “Hi,” you whimper with a big smile, eyes floating in a shiny haze pf exhaustion and happiness, looking down upon her. “Hi baby girl.” you laugh, tears falling freely as you shake your head and hold her closer, as close as possible, reabsorbing her into your bare chest, and you feel it. Her skin on yours. You’ve carried her this entire time, and yet it’s like you’re feeling her for the first time in your life.

Joel curls next to you, his big palm splayed over top her whole body, touching her. And it’s the first time, the first time he’s felt his daughter. He had been separated by the membrane of your belly, anxiously, excitedly waiting all this time to meet her, and now she’s here. She’s here. Neither one of you can believe it.

Your little baby wiggles, cooing noise stuck in her throat as she settles from her cries. she’s so wrinkly, skin still absorbing all that fresh air, working color into those cheeks and hands, fingers and toes. Her eyes are too swollen, not yet ready to say hi to this world. But that’s okay. Because her mom and dad are still going to be right here when she wakes up, the first people who will introduce her to the world around her. Because she is their world.

“Joel,” you whisper softly. He hears you. He’s here. He hasn’t left your side once. You know he’s here, you’re grateful. He’s here. He loves you.

“Joel,” you hum again. “She’s beautiful.”

You tremble against him. Shaken from love and joy, more than your entire achy body can contain as you bring her little head to your lips and press the most fulfilling kiss to her.

Joel cups her little head. He wants to hold her, but he’s gotta wait. Fuck after all this time, he’s gotta wait. And it’s enough. He can handle it because he’s so fucking overwhelmed that she’s finally here.

“She’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen,” he rasps into your hair, kissing you tenderly.

Joel steps outside the room, softly closing the door behind him. He watches from the glass window pane, with you perfectly framed in the center as its only subject. Just the way he’s seen the world every day since he met you.

Only this time, you hold another part of you, and him, in your arms. The two of you, together. Like the only things that will ever matter to him.

And suddenly, Joel lets himself feel it all.

He clutches his mouth with the entirety of his palm, his yelp buzzing in his hoarse throat. He feels his knees give way, tumbling to the ground, one hand holding the wall while the other grips his face to keep the cries at bay. And he cries. He cries harder than he’s ever cried, and they’re wonderful. They hurt like kisses, burn like candy, ache like love.

He wants to go back in there.

Quickly wiping his face clean, he stands up, straightening himself.

“Hey.”

The nurse who had delivered his baby stands next to him.

“She did fantastic. You both did.”

Joel tries to clear his throat, but his face is so obviously still red, swollen and barely holding it together. She doesn’t question nor judge the tough guy facade, yet completely speaks to his soul, telling him everything he didn’t know he needed to hear. “She’s 7 pounds, 2 ounces. Ten fingers and toes. Brown eyes. Hearing is great, so is—“

“Thank you,” he interrupts.

She goes quiet but offers a gentle smile.

As he stares at her, the literal saint that got you and his baby through this, from point A to B, he realizes nothing is coming to his head.

“I’m sorry, I … I don’t even know your name.”

She laughs. “I would not expect you to. You had way more to worry about.”

“Well, I just … really, really wanted to say…. Thank you…”

“Sarah,” she responds.

“Sarah,” he repeats. He repeats it over and over again in his mind, as if its going to stick, and he doesn’t quite know why yet.

“I’ll give you two—three, some time together,” she says, gathering the checkerboard hanging by the wall. “Then I’ll be back to help get her ready to take home, and let your wife sleep some more.”

He nods, looking down then back up, just as she’s patting his shoulder reassuringly and turning away to attend her other duties.

When he steps back inside, you look up to him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he whispers back. Now that the dust has settled, he can finally see just how exhausted you are. The absolute train wreck that has battered your body this last hour really settling in, and it makes his chest sore to see you like that. Your gown pulled halfway down to your ribcage, tousled hair sticking awkwardly to your forehead and back from all the dried sweat. And yet none of it, absolutely nothing, is getting in the way of that smile that hasn’t left your cheeks since the moment you heard her cry.

“She’s sleeping,” you hum, looking back down at your daughter, who’s coddled up in a wrap and little cap.

“You thinking about putting the baby down, getting some sleep too?”

“Never.”

He smirks, looking down at her again.

“You think about any names yet?” You ask, stroking over her little forehead.

The two of you had thought about it. A lot. You didn’t want it to be random, but you didn’t want it to be weird. It had to have meaning, but not so closely related to a family member that you’d always mess them up at thanksgiving. It had to remind you of someone strong, unique, purposeful but distant enough that she could to grow and make it her own.

And this was a girl, after all, so it had to be someone that could put momma AND papa in their place whenever shit got too crazy.

“I’ve got…one.”

Joel helps dress the baby from her swaddled blanket into clothes.

“They’re gonna be a little bit big at first—“ you say, giggling as the two of you realize that the smallest clothes in the world are still a little too baggy on your little—so fucking little—girl.

Joel doesn’t waver, helping put her bitty legs through the loose pant legs…

You see him wipe his lips quickly, swallowing a lump to clear his throat.

“Joel, are you crying?”

“No,” he rasps like a whimper. “M’just sweatin’ through my eyes.”

You let out a chuckle, and Joel tries to do the same, but then he looks down at his little angel again, who’s stretching herself out in the new cloth that’s practically a giant coat on her. Joel starts to tremble. “She’s so perfect,” he weeps, and the shine in his eyes are clear as day.

“Oh baby, it’s okay to cry! I’m gonna cry too—“ you bawl, and now the two of you cry over this little girl who’s just trying to figure out why this blanket is stuck to her.

Not a great first impression from mom and dad but she’ll just have to deal with it.

And just like that, the Miller family went from party of two, to family of three.

6 weeks later…

The baby monitor crackles to life, and Joel is already tossing the blanket aside before the baby utters her first cry. He’s already up, kissing your forehead with “I’ll get her," almost excitedly through the heavy lull of sleep. You barely get a noise out of your throat, already snoring away into the pillow. He’s exhausted too, but his feet carry him onward with droopy eyes as if on their own.

He’s still not happy about the pink paint color of her bedroom, but that hardly matters right now. Terribly dramatic cries echo from the crib ahead. He scoops his little bean—since that’s what she looks like all curly in her onesie—supporting her head carefully and tucking her into one elbow.

He rocks her squirming, agitated body back and forth in one arm as he shakes the now warmed bottle in his other hand. Joel tries to get her screaming mouth to take the cap, but she shakes her head, avoiding him at all costs to her own detriment.

"Oh you’re such a squiggly girly for daddy. I got ya bubbas right here, quick ya cryin’. You’re gonna wake up mommy."

As if she understands how she wouldn’t want to cause YOU any problems, his baby stops crying and accepts the bottle between her lips. Once she finally has her snacking, she peacefully looks back up to him, studies him.

"There she is. Told ya." He grins, swaying back and forth as she stares back at him with those big beautiful brown eyes. You definitely got one of your wishes: Joel’s eyes. The rest of her, is yours.

He’s hypnotized, so in love with her he didn’t think it was possible to love something as much as you. He already knows he’s gonna get her the dog, the kitty, the pony, the car, credit card, dress, house, anything she points to really; he’s never going to be able to say no to those enchanting eyes.

All of her bitty fingers fist around Joel’s pointer, as if to anchor her, and she doesn't let go as she drinks safely.

She’s only 10 pounds now, but he feels like Atlas, carrying the entire weight of the world all curled up in his arms right now. Ans he'd carry this weight forever if he could, would pump iron and concrete slabs and oceans just to stay in shape and keep his girl in his arms for eternity, never to tire.

“My babygirl,” he whispers with a grin, pursing his lips close to her. “My little baby Sarah.”

- - - -

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lanadelnegan · 5 months ago

Text

The Feeling Was Mutual

Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Female Reader

Summary: You and your former friend and co-star, JDM, pick up where you left off years ago when he joins you on set of TWD. Starting with a dinner date and ending with a quickie in the elevator. Warnings: smut, 18+, unprotected public sex, heavy touching and kissing, angst, sexual tension, *Jeffrey is single

Requested by anon <3

Your heart thumped in your ears when the RV doors opened and the gorgeous man you hadn't seen in 10 years stepped out. You tried to stay in character, purposely replacing your googly heart eyes with fearful ones. You studied his every move, noting the new silver streaks in his hair and beard. His voice was deeper than you remembered and his waist skinnier, but it was a nice look on him.

For the past decade, you've avoided him, focusing on your acting career and pushing your growing feelings for him aside. Things were different now. You were both more mature and further along in your careers. And single. From what you last heard. Not that you were checking up on him.

"Eeny. Meeny. Miny. Moe."

When the end of the barbed-wire bat came dangerously close to the tip of your nose, your eyes finally locked with his. His smug gaze softened and for a moment, you thought he was about to break character. A grin threatened to tug at the corner of your mouth, but you mentally pushed it aside, breaking eye contact to stare at the ground. His smirk grew wider before he walked away from you, continuing his impressive opening speech.

"Cut. Amazing! Let's take a break." Your fellow actors stood to their feet, wiping the dirt off their knees and laughing amongst each other. You did the same, glancing at Jeffrey across the set before grabbing a drink of water. He was busy getting to know the others as they welcomed him to his first day on set.

Your back was turned away from him as you took a sip of your water. You hated yourself for being this shy in front of him, purposely stalling on greeting him with the rest of the cast. There was a time he was one of your closest friends but now you only saw him on social media, occasionally dropping a comment on one of his new posts and him returning the gesture.

"Not gonna go say hi to the new guy?" Norman teased.

"Eventually. You?"

"Met him earlier. Seems like a nice dude."

"Yeah, he's -"

"Walking over here." Norman said quietly, giving you a subtle heads up. Your eyes widened as he tilted his chin up at Jeffrey. "Man, that was awesome. Making us all look bad." Norman joked, earning a chuckle from the tall man next to you.

Jeffrey's hazel eyes quickly skimmed over you before settling on your own. "Hey stranger."

You rolled your eyes, playing off your ridiculous grin as he brought you in for a hug. You were always attracted to him, but this new him did something to you. He looked taller somehow. More confident.

"You know each other?" Norman asked.

Jeffrey rambled off to Norman about the movies you made together while you half listened, too busy soaking in his handsome features and the way the corner of his mouth tilted slightly when he spoke.

"And then, one day, she just.. ghosted me." He said jokingly, bringing his hand to his chest like it pained him.

You felt heat quickly rise to your cheeks. "I dunno if that's what happened." You said casually, hoping he'd drop it. Of course you weren't that lucky.

"You stopped returning my calls and texts. I'd say that's.. exactly what happened." Jeffrey tilted his head at you, resting his hands loosely on his hips.

"Well, you guys enjoy your reunion." Norman interrupted, patting Jeffrey's shoulder before walking away.

"What the hell was that?"

"Wasn't a lie." He shrugged, sipping his can of coca-cola.

"So that's how it's gonna be? You haven't seen me in a decade and you want to start it like this?"

He made a satisfied sigh, swallowing his drink. "This is awkward because of you, darlin'. Not me."

You scoffed. With his new found confidence, he was also apparently an asshole. You turned to walk away but he was on your heels.

"Y/n, wait."

You ignored the loud sigh he made.

"Y/n. Stop, can we just talk?"

You turned to face him, opening your mouth to say something, but quickly realized how close your face was to his. Your mind wandered back to one of the first scenes you shot with him - a kissing scene that involved lots of heavy touching. As if reading your mind, his eyes dropped to your lips then quickly back to your eyes.

"I'm sorry." He said genuinely. "Let's start over. You look.. really great."

"So do you. I.. I missed you." You stepped back a couple inches, allowing some space between you so others wouldn't stare.

"How about we get dinner tonight and catch up?"

You thought for a moment then nodded slightly. "Okay, yeah. That sounds nice."

Later that night...

You decided to keep it casual and eat at the restaurant at the hotel you were both staying at. This was just a friendly outing after all. You had to remind yourself of that a few times while getting ready, keeping your makeup light and your outfit nice but definitely not overdressed.

Your phone buzzed just as you were stepping off the elevator. Digging it out of your purse, you smiled at the name on the screen. You were surprised his number was still saved. And that he clearly still had yours.

JD: Got us a table outside in the back.

The nickname for him in your phone stuck after the filming of a show you did together. JD Richter. You smiled to yourself as you walked, remembering a particular scene you shot together that consisted of a king-sized bed and his body hovering over yours. His lips exploring your neck and collarbone. It was your favorite scene you ever shot with him, for obvious reasons. Partly because of the kissing, but mostly because of the way he whispered your name in your ear while on top of you. You real name, not your character name - so quietly that only the two of you could hear it. Shortly after that scene, your friendship grew apart and it was all your fault. He was right, you had ghosted him - stupidly. But tonight you'd make up for it.

You made your way through the restaurant, finding the door to the back patio. The sun was starting to disappear, but the patio was outlined in greenery and warm sting lights.

He stood when he saw you, pulling out a chair beside him. "You don't have to pull my chair out. This isn't a date." You half teased as you both settled into your seats.

"So there's no chance I'm getting lucky tonight? Shit. I wore my fancy underwear and everything."

Your laughs echoed across the patio, slowly fading when the waiter finally approached. After ordering a bottle of wine and a couple of appetizers to share, you took turns catching each other up on the past decade of your lives. He had been in two semi-serious relationships, one of which was fairly recent.

"The last one, I thought for awhile she might have been the one, but then it just didn't feel right."

"What happened?" You asked curiously, sipping your wine.

He hesitated for a moment. "When I got the call about the Negan gig... I broke up with her shortly after that."

"Choosing your career over your love life?" You chuckled like the idea was ridiculous.

"Sound familiar?" He raised an eyebrow at you.

Ouch. He was right.

"I deserve that." You nodded, popping a pretzel bite in your mouth. "But.. why after you got the Negan call?"

"I - uh.." He hesitated again. "Knew I was about to see you again."

You blushed, feeling his knee brush against yours underneath the table.

"Look y/n, I know you don't wanna talk about it. But I need to know. Why'd you stop answering my calls?"

You knew that question was coming.

The truth is, you needed to focus on your career. You were barely a known actress at the time, and Jeffrey had already made a name for himself. When you started developing feelings for him, you knew you had to distance yourself. You wanted to be known for your work, not your love life.

"Fine. I.. I had feelings for you. That I didn't want to have." You admitted, ignoring his gaze and taking a bite of chocolate cake you were sharing for dessert.

"You should have told me." He said, casually wiping a dab of icing from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. You blushed when he brought it to his own mouth and sucked it off with a quick pop.

"I didn't know if you felt the same way."

"So you preferred never speaking to me again?"

Guilt punched you in the stomach and you felt like the worst person in the world. "No. I made a mistake. And when I realized it, I figured it was too late. You already had a girlfriend." You couldn't believe you were finally saying all of this out loud.

He nodded, deep in thought. "Okay."

"Okay? ...That’s all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say, y/n?” He asked, avoiding eye contact and signing the tab.

That you had feelings for me too. That the feeling was mutual. That I made a mistake and we should have been together.

“It’s getting late, we should probably head back.” You said instead.

The walk back to your rooms was silent with the exception of him asking what floor you were on. You stared at him as he leaned back against the elevator wall, sliding his hands in his jean pockets. He stared back at you and you wondered what he was thinking, but stubbornly, you weren't going to be the one to speak first. When the elevator doors opened, he motioned for you to lead the way, so you did until you came to a stop at your door.

"Well, thanks for dinner. It was nice." You finally spoke, annoyed that you lost at your little silent game.

He nodded. “Yeah. Any time.”

You opened your mouth again to speak but he was already walking away. “JD.” He stopped, looking back at you over his shoulder.

Come inside. Stay with me. Let's do what we should have done a long time ago.

"...goodnight." You said instead.

"Night, y/n." He disappeared down the hall and you drifted into your room, disappointed and frustrated with yourself.

You kicked off your clothes, replacing them with your favorite silky night gown before falling into bed defeatedly. You closed your eyes, still feeling a buzz from the half bottle of wine you finished.

Imagining Jeffrey on top of you and whispering in your ear, your hand slipped between your legs. You easily rubbed your clit, considering your panties were on the floor with your other discarded clothes.

You were growing hotter by the second until your phone chimed from the nightstand. You sighed, picking it up and squinting at the bright screen.

JD: The feeling was mutual.

Your heart flipped at his confession and you jumped out of bed. You didn't bother slipping on shoes as you flung open your door. You took one step around the corner and immediately slammed into his tall figure.

"Oh.. hey.. I was just.." You rambled nervously, suddenly losing your courage.

"Me too." He said, slamming his mouth to yours and pressing you against the carpeted hallway wall.

He tasted like wine and chocolate cake, mixed with a hint of tobacco. The flavor alone enough to make your knees weak. He devoured your mouth and tangled his tongue with yours until you were breathless. Pulling away slightly, his mouth dipped to your neck, tracing his lips against your sensitive flesh. Your hand reached for his hair while the other wrapped around his wrist and guided it towards your soaked center.

He stopped suddenly, pulling away and looking at you. "Fuck, we can't do this." He ran a hand through his tousled hair.

"Oh.." You said, cheeks flushed. "Right.."

"Here. Someone could see us." He clarified. You exhaled a breath of relief as he guided you quickly to your room, placing his hand on your lower back.

"Oh no.." You panicked slightly, realizing your room key was on the other side of your door.

"Fuck. Come on." He led you to the elevator and luckily you didn't have to wait long before the doors opened and you stumbled inside the small space. His lips were on yours again as he clumsily pressed the button to his floor.

"I don't think I can wait another second to be inside of you." He said against your mouth, running his hand up your thigh and feeling your bare pussy. His finger slid through your wetness. "Fuck baby.."

"Then don't." You fumbled with the belt on his jeans. Pressing his forehead to yours, he helped you quickly unbuckle him.

You almost moaned at the sight of his cock when he pulled it free from his pants. He was rock hard and already leaking precum. Before you could admire it any longer, he lifted one of your legs around his hip and held it there, guiding his length to your slick hole. You were so wet and ready for him, you wouldn't be surprised if you were making a puddle all over the elevator floor.

He rubbed the head up and down your slit, coating his cock in your juices before stopping at your entrance.

"If you want to take this slow, we can."

You shook your head no, eager for him to be buried deep in your cunt already.

"You sure? I could take you back to your room.." He whispered in your ear. "And eat this pretty pussy before I fuck it."

"JD.." You almost yelled. "Please just -"

He pushed forward suddenly, entering you hard with one full thrust and stretching your walls perfectly. Your mouth fell open as he pressed fully against you, his cock buried so deep in your cunt it was almost painful. He let out a hoarse groan before sloppily kissing you again.

"Fuck, doll. You feel fuckin' good."

His hips began moving slowly, allowing you to focus on every inch of him. The elevator door opened for a few moments but he didn't stop. Luckily no one was on the other side and it finally closed.

His movements quickened and the moans from both of you filled the small space. You didn't care that someone was probably watching from the other end of the camera in the corner. Or that you could be caught at any moment and end up trending on the internet. You were too focused on each other. At how amazing he felt inside of you, like his cock was made for you.

"Oh god, fuck. I'm-" You couldn't finish your sentence before your pussy clenched around him and your legs shook beneath you. He watched you, his eyelids heavy as he felt his own release coming.

Suddenly the floor felt like it was falling from under you when the elevator started to descend.

"JD.." You said panicked, trying to push him away. But his grip tightened around your thigh and he continued thrusting, faster.

"JD..!"

Jeffrey stilled, letting out a couple of sharp grunts before spilling his load inside of you. "Fuck.. fuck." He pulled out of you quickly, stepping to the other side of the elevator and zipping himself up in his jeans. He held his wrists over his unclasped belt buckle as the doors began to open.

One would never be able to tell you just fucked.

Besides your flushed cheeks.

And his messy hair.

And the handprint on your thigh.

And the heavy breathing.

And-

The doors slowly departed, revealing Norman standing on the other side.

Oh fuck.

He squinted, eyeing you both suspiciously as he grinned, long enough for the doors to begin to close.

"I'll catch the next one." He said before they shut completely.

You couldn't help but giggle. "Oh my god.. you think he knew?"

Jeffrey took a step towards you, placing his hand on your lower back and pulling you towards him. "Probably. Especially if he noticed my cum running down your legs."

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