#and every part of it I altered in some way

[anixvl]

WHAT ONCE WAS || NI-KI

pairing: idol!niki x actress!reader

synopsis: Years after your long-term relationship break up, you catch a glimpse of your ex on the news. But, he’s an upcoming star in a korean boy band group. Preparing for their upcoming music video, you're selected as the female lead. Will seeing each other after so long hender your hard-earned founded careers?

genre: old lovers to strangers to lovers, SUGGESTIVEE AFFFF, AU famous, use of irl famous people & films, kinda slow burn?

warnings: angst, suggestive, altered roles in films

wc: 7.5K

The lights of the studio were blinding, but you smiled through it, the practiced grace of an actress trained to charm cameras. It became second-nature to you, after years of blood, sweat, and tears. Many, tears.

Your undeniable hard work.

Across from you, the interviewer leaned in, her voice light but sharp, the way all seasoned hosts wrapped their punches in cunning enthusiasm. It was the 6th interview in the last 2 weeks, and every last one implemented the same topic. It was exhausting.

“You’ve worked with so many big names recently,” she said, her pen poised over her notepad.

“But I have to ask—there’s been a lot of talk about you and Ni-ki of Enhypen. Any truth to the rumors?”

There it was.

The repetitive, infuriating, question you've dreaded.

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t flinch. On the surface, the question was about your recent collaboration on the upcoming music video. Beneath it, though, was the unspoken truth you've spent years burying, desperately trying to forget.

To obliterate, completely.

Ni-ki wasn’t just a co-star or the idol dominating global charts. No, you both knew he was far from that.

You swallowed, pushing away all insistent memories you've forgotten you had. You laughed softly, the kind that said nice try without confirming anything.

“Ni-ki is an incredible talent,” you smiled, leaning back in your chair, “It was an honor to work with him and the boys.”

The interviewer smiled knowingly, “Some would say there’s more to the story. Any comment on the chemistry fans noticed between you two—both on and off-screen?”

you looked away, just for a heartbeat, as the memories rushed back.

Late-night walks in the quiet streets of the home-town you both grew up in, whispered dreams of making it big, and the final, shattering silence that left you both broken.

You smiled again, the professional mask slipping back into place.

“The chemistry,” you said, “is all part of the performance.”

You knew what it meant to be an actress, a global sensation, at that. You had dealt with hate, rumors, and scandals many times during your career. None of it was new to you, not that any of it was bigger than your fan base and public admiration towards you. You had billboards, luxury brand partnership, and magazines on your success and beauty. You're doing extraordinarily well. Romantic rumors between you and your co-stars wasn't new, fans love to group together actors with "chemistry." Not that it was bothersome, your publicity teams used this as advertisement to boost the views for your films, they even encouraged to subtly feed into your fans delusion. It was harmless.

4 years ago, you were nothing but a girl with passionate dreams. With huge dreams to be an actress, a star. If it wasn't for the profound heartbreak you went through back then, you wouldn't have had the courage to leave your small home-town without looking back once. As the years went by, you worked hard and gained recognition like wildfire. Not only were you talented but also undeniably beautiful, big roles were given to you insistently. You were incredibly grateful, to all your fans and support staff, so you worked evermore harder on your acting and events. It was all you felt you had after leaving your home-town, alone. You couldn't let them down, it was your motivation to be better. It was a testament of your hard work, that you could be someone in this world despite of your poor past. Or the betrayals.

A month ago, you were incredibly busy with your demanding schedule. After finally wrapping up Lovely Runner and only a few events left to attend, you had time to breathe. You barely had time to yourself, let alone to watch the news or care about the media. Not if it wasn't PR or about your work. That was, until you absentmindedly decided to turn on the channel news on a random Saturday night. Why would you do that? Out of all days, too. The only time you had to yourself, the only time you decide to indulge yourself with the media, you come face-to-face with the last person you ever thought you'd see again.

Your ex.

Only, he's not there as your ex but as an upcoming kpop idol.

Your heart drops at the sound of his name said by the reporter and his face up-close on the screen. Yes, its undoubtly him. You stop in your tracks, facing the screen of your echoing tv, in the living room of your penthouse. Suddenly, the cup of tea slips from your unresponsive hands and shatters onto the floor. Your assistant rushes out to you, her eyes widening in concern.

"y/n, are you okay? What happened?" She asks, pulling you away from the mess.

You stammer, "I'm...yeah, I'm fine. I-I don't know what...what happened. It must've slipped."

You manage to snap out of the trance, helping your assitant, Kate, clean up the mess. Your eyes frequently find the TV screen, attentively listening to the content. You feel as if a cold sweat has overcame you, you feel nauseous, the shock draining the color from your face.

Get a fucking grip, y/n. What difference does it make now that you know he's doing well? So what if he's a star? You're doing your own thing now, you wont ever cross paths with him. Let it go.

You take a final deep breath, turning off the TV and pushing back the memory of his face on the news.

You were sure you weren't going to see him again, after all, you're an actress. When will a busy actress like you ever meet with a busy idol?

The red carpet glistened under the camera flashes, a sea of faces cheering as you stepped out of the car, your gown flowing like liquid starlight. This was supposed to be your moment—a night to celebrate your tenth major acting award nomination. The big, luxurious, successful ten.

But then you heard it: a name called out by fans down the carpet, echoing like a forgotten melody. His name. Your heart stalled as you turned toward the commotion, and there he was, stepping onto the same carpet from a sleek black van, surrounded by his group members. The world knew him as the rising star of Enhypen, the global sensation boy band.

But to you, he was just Ni-ki—the boy who had once held your heart.

The crowd roared as the lights dimmed, the announcer’s voice booming through the grand stadium. The biggest night in entertainment had brought out the stars, and you were seated front and center, right where the cameras loved you most. Your stylist’s work was flawless—an elegant gown shimmering like stardust, paired with a smile that was as breathtaking and admirable as your reputation.

“And the award for Best International Collaboration goes to…”

The host's pause stretched endlessly, and you leaned back, feigning nonchalance for the cameras. But as soon as the name was announced, the room erupted in cheers.

“Enhypen, featuring Selena Grace!”

You clapped politely, your smile widening for the benefit of the cameras.

Of course, they’d win. Enhypen was unstoppable, and their song XO—an international smash—had cemented their status as global icons. Niki's face flashed on the massive screens as he and his bandmates stood, their tailored suits gleaming under the stage lights.

You kept your eyes onto the big displaying screens, your hands folded neatly in your lap as Jungwon signaled him to deliver the speech. He nods, stepping towards the mic.

“Thank you to the fans,” he began with a charming smile, his voice alluring and low.

“This wouldn’t have been possible without your love and support," He extends his hand out to signal at someone in the crowd, "And, of course, to Selena Grace, who brought magic to this project.”

The camera cut to Selena, seated just a few rows behind you, blowing him a kiss. Your smile faltered, just for a second. You quickly regain your composure, just in case the camera unexpectedly lands on you. You don't want to create unnecessary content for people to delude.

As the applause died down and the show moved on, you braced yourself for your category. Fame had taught you the art of composure, but tonight, you felt like you were unraveling. You wanted nothing than to go home and enjoy your peace.

The announcer’s voice rang through the stadium, cutting through the applause like a beacon.

“And the award for Best Actress in a Leading Role goes to… Y/n L/n!”

The room erupted into cheers and applause, the sound crashing over you like a wave. You felt the cameras zoom in, capturing every detail—the way you pressed your hands to your chest in mock surprise, the graceful way you rose to your feet, the dazzling smile that lit up you face. All of it was calculated, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t real.

As you made your way to the stage, your co-star Byeon Woo-seok in your latest drama Lovely Runner, helped the train of your gown that trailed behind you like liquid gold up the small case of stairs in courteously. But you knew it was also partly just a publicity stunt to feed into the fans who shipped you both together. The audience went louder at this, the host's smiling at the scene before them. It was a sweet gesture. He placed his hand on your lower back, protectively to ensure you could safely walk up the stage. Once safely on the stage, you exchange polite short talk and he rushes back to his seat. The cameras switch back to the crowd, It caught a flicker of movement in the audience.

Niki. He was clapping, his expression unreadable. For a fleeting moment, you locked eyes with him through the big screen. It was as if no time had passed, as if you were back in those quiet moments when it was just you and him in your small home-town.

Then the moment was gone, you quickly looked away and you were back in the spotlight.

The statuette was heavier than you expected as you accepted it, its shiny surface cool against your fingers. The host handed you the microphone, and you turned to face the audience—a sea of faces, cameras, and adoration.

“Wow,” you began, your voice steady and sweet despite the pounding of your heart.

“This… this is truly an honor. Acting has been my dream for as long as I can remember, and to be standing here once again tonight feels like a dream come true," you laugh, softly.

Polite laughter rippled through the room. You continued, your tone warm and heartfelt, the kind of sincerity that always won over the public. Like your last nine awards.

“There are so many people I need to thank—my director, my incredible cast," you smile as the camera cuts to your handsome co-star, "Woo-seok, thank you so much for being such a wonderful partner."

He smiles sheepishly, shaking his head.

"My team who works tirelessly behind the scenes, and, of course, my fans. You’ve made this journey possible, and I’m so grateful for your unwavering support," You continued.

The applause swelled again, and you smiled, letting it wash over you. But as you glanced out at the audience, your eyes land onto the big screen which found Niki once more. This time, his gaze was steady, his expression softer. For a split second, you faltered. Your attention shifts back to the mic.

“And to everyone out there chasing their dreams,” you added, your voice catching slightly, “never give up. You never know how far they’ll take you.”

The audience cheered as you stepped back from the microphone. Your heart was still racing as you made your way offstage, clutching the award like a lifeline.

When the award show was over, you lingered around, talking and socializing with other actors and idols. You spoke to some reporters and did quick interviews.

Kate stayed behind you, following you as you made your way through the crowd. Your smile lit up at the sight of Woo-seok waving you over. As you made your way, the view became clearer. Your eyes land on Woo-seok's company, Enhypen. Your smile faltered a bit. You stand next to Woo-seok as you exchange polite greetings with Enhypen.

“You were amazing up there," Jay said, flashing you a polite smile.

you return the smile, humbly denying.

"That was all you guys, congratulations on the new album," you beamed.

“That speech," Niki speaks up, "it reminded me of someone I used to know.”

The voice made your breath get stuck in your throat for a moment. Turning to face him, you found Niki standing, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his tailored suit. It's the first time you've seen him since the incident.

your eyes flicker and before you knew it, your mind spoke for itself, “People change.”

“Some things don’t," His response is quick, as if he knew what you were going to say. His gaze lingered, heavy with unspoken words.

You both look into each other's eyes fiercely. Thankfully, Jake changes the topic, starting lively conversation between Woo-seok and the boys. Niki and I stay quiet for a bit, the tension unbearably suffocating. You shake it off, jumping back into conversation with them, completely disregarding NIki. Great, now they will start to suspect. Could this get any worse for you?

Soon after, their director comes over to you. You greet him as he showers you in humble compliments.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something," he said, looking back and forth between you and Enhypen.

you tilt your head, actively listening.

“Our team’s planning a music video for Enhypen's next single. A big one. And I have someone specific in mind for the lead," he explains.

You look over at the boys, nodding your head cheerfully, "Is that so? That's really great, I'll be rooting for you guys!"

"Actually, Y/n..." Sunoo trails off, exchanging looks with the other members.

“Let me guess,” you said, “Selena Grace?”

“No,” Niki stepped closer, his voice lowering, “You.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, you whip your head toward the director for clarification. You've faced countless directors, producers, and critics, but this? This was different. You've never been in a music video, let alone for a famous Korean boy band.

“Really? Me? You think that’s a good idea?” you asked, your voice laced with denial yet gratitude.

The director smiled, nodding.

"We think you're perfect for the role," he turned to the boys, "don't we?"

You turn to face them, still in disbelief. Kate starts typing in her phone, probably sending off the information to your manager.

Niki holds a unreadable expression, “I think it’s the best idea.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, confused at his weird behaviour. You would think that after what happened the last time you both saw each other, your interactions would be vastly different. Yet, It's alarmingly peaceful, with a hint of passive-aggressive.

He smiled faintly, the kind that used to make your heart race.

That following week, news on your collaboration spread like wildfire, it became the most spoken topic and the shooting hasn't even finished. Papparazzi's followed and increased, appearing at your meetings sites with Enhypen. It was a global anticipation, your biggest project of all.

On the first official day of shooting, the set buzzed with energy as Enhypen arrived. Niki's bandmates were larger-than-life in person, their charisma radiating like a collective force field.

And, oh, so handsome.

They stood in a group, laughing and joking as if they hadn’t just stepped off a whirlwind tour.

The sun blazed high over the set, casting golden light across the sprawling outdoor location. The production team buzzed like a hive, cameras and lighting rigs being adjusted, assistants darting between trailers, and the director shouting final instructions. Amid the chaos, you sat in the makeup chair, staring at your reflection.

The makeup artist added the finishing touches, but your nerves weren’t about your appearance. Today was the first day of filming Enhypen's music video—and the first time you'd be working with Niki as professionals since your lives diverged. You hated it, utterly despised him and the thought of being around him another second longer. But you knew it wasn't fair for the rest of the nice crew, after all, it was just this and nothing more. You wouldn’t even need to really interact with him, right? Just endure it a little longer...

“Y/n L/n!” Jay called out, his voice warm and playful. You smoothed the soft fabric of the ethereal dress the costume team had chosen for you as you stepped out. All eyes seemed to follow, the weight of your “dream girl” reputation trailing like a shadow. The staff helped you out of the trailer, staying careful with your dress. You waved, cheerfully, greeting them.

Jungwon gave you a polite bow, “Thank you for agreeing to work with us. The fans are already calling this the collaboration of the year.”

“No pressure, right?” you joked, earning a few chuckles.

Behind him, the remaining members hung back slightly, though their smiles were welcoming. It was clear they all shared an easy camaraderie, the kind that came from years of working, traveling, and growing together.

As you filled your bottle with water, you could feel Niki's gaze, though he hadn’t said a word.

“Don’t be shy,” Heeseung chimed in, clearly relishing the opportunity to engage, “We were just talking about our most embarrassing moments on stage. Do you have one?”

you turned, tilting your head slightly in thought, “Embarrassing moments? Hmm…”

“There was one time during a premiere when I tripped on my dress. Right in front of a live audience and the cameras," you shook your head, recalling the embarrassment at just the thought.

Sunghoon gasped theatrically, “The dream girl… tripped?”

“It happens,” you said with a shrug, laughing.

“But I recovered gracefully, if I do say so myself," you boasted, playfully.

“Of course you did,” Sunoo said, flashing a sweet smile.

“You’re Y/n L/n. You probably made it look like part of the act," Jake joked.

The room burst into laughter, and you couldn’t help but feel a little at ease.

Niki finally spoke, his voice cutting through the lighthearted chatter, “You’ve always been good at making things look effortless.”

The tone of his compliment was subtle, but the room seemed to sense the shift. The laughter died down, and for a moment, the air between you both felt suffocating.

Jay, ever the mediator, clapped his hands together, “Well, since we’re all here, should we teach y/n some choreography from the song?”

you raised an eyebrow, laughing nervously, “Oh no, I’m not a dancer.”

Sunghoon smirked, “You’re an actress. You can pretend to be one.”

Before you could protest, Sunoo was pulling you closer to them, “It’s easy! Just the chorus—Niki, show her.”

Niki shifted reluctantly, but there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. He positioned himself beside you, demonstrating a smooth trail with his arms followed by a quick footwork sequence.

“Like this,” he said, his voice quieter now.

you tried to mimic the movement, fumbling awkwardly. The group erupted into laughter, Jake doubling over onto Sunghoon dramatically.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you said, throwing your hands up in surrender, “Stick to acting for me.”

Niki chuckled softly, his smile genuine, “You weren’t that bad.”

you met his gaze, and for a moment, you felt your breath get stuck in your throat. You quickly looked away, suppressing your thoughts.

“I swear i’m not this bad at dancing,” you defended, playfully, “it just went a little too fast for me to catch on to.”

As the crew finalized the next setup, the director approached, clapping his hands, “Alright, everyone! Let’s get the group shot lined up. Y/n, you’ll be center stage with the guys circling you. We want this to feel like a dream sequence—intense, almost otherworldly.”

you moved to your positions, and you found yourself surrounded by the seven of them. Each carried a distinct presence: Sunghoons quiet confidence, Jake’s playful energy, Heeseungs brooding intensity, Sunoo’s charming warmth, Jungwons calm concentration, Jay’s cool collectiveness, and Niki… well, Niki was Niki: Reserved.

“Alright, everyone, eyes on y/n,” the director called, “This is about the connection. She’s the muse, the untouchable figure you’re drawn to. Feel the tension.”

As the music swelled and the cameras rolled, the guys slipped effortlessly into their roles. You executed your simple choreography gracefully, focusing. Their gazes were piercing, their movements fluid, creating an aura that felt both surreal and magnetic.

But it was Niki’s gaze that unsettled you the most. His eyes locked onto yours, carrying an intensity that blurred the line between performance and reality.

“Cut!” the director called, sounding thrilled, “That was perfect. Let’s reset for the close-ups.”

As the crew adjusted the lighting, Jay leaned in conspiratorially, “You’re a natural at this.”

“Ever thought about switching careers? We could use a eighth member,” Sunoo smiled.

“Only if you want your fans to riot,” you teased.

The group laughed, but Niki stayed quiet, his focus still on you. It made you uncomfortable, catching his gazes frequently. You couldn’t think straight, and it frustrated you.

“Alright, alright,” the director interrupted, “Let’s keep this energy going.”

As you moved back into position, you caught Niki watching you again. This time, his expression was softer, almost unreadable.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Always,” you replied, meeting his gaze head-on. You look away, giving him the cold shoulder.

After your small break, as you approached the director, he clapped his hands together.

“Perfect timing! Niki, y/n, let’s go over the first solo scene,” he instructed.

You falter for a moment.

You have a solo scene with Niki? Could the universe hate you even more?

you gathered around the monitor as he explained the setup. The concept was intimate: Niki, a mysterious figure, would catch glimpses of you in a dream-like world, your connection growing through fleeting encounters. The chemistry between you would carry the narrative.

“Chemistry,” you thought, biting back a wry smile. That wouldn’t be a problem. If anything, the challenge was hiding it.

The first shot involved you walking barefoot through a field, the breeze catching the hem of your dress, while Niki watched from a distance. Simple enough.

“Positions, everyone!” the assistant director called.

you took your mark, feeling the cool grass beneath your feet, and glanced at Niki. He stood at his mark, hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed on you. The look in his eyes sent a ripple through you—curiosity, recognition, and something deeper that he didn’t try to hide.

“Action!”

Your eyes flickered as you snapped back into reality. The world around you fell silent as you moved through the scene, every step slow and deliberate. Niki’s presence loomed at the edge of your awareness, his gaze a constant weight. You glanced back over your shoulder as directed, and your eyes met.

Time seemed to slow.

For a moment, it wasn’t the camera capturing you but the past pulling you back to a place you both tried to leave behind.

“Cut!” the director called, breaking the trance.

He clapped enthusiastically, “That was beautiful. Perfect connection. Let’s reset for the next shot.”

you exhaled, only then realizing you’ve been holding your breath. Niki approached as the crew adjusted the setup.

“You’re good at this,” he said quietly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

Yet it felt sarcastic to you. It irked you.

“Took a lot of hard work and many sacrifices,” you replied, keeping your tone neutral.

His eyes narrowed, his lips twitching into a faint smile, but his eyes searched yours as if trying to read what you weren’t saying.

The next scene involved you standing closer, your hands nearly touching but never quite meeting. The director called it a “moment of almost,” the kind of shot that fans would replay endlessly.

As you both stood there, your hands hovering inches apart, the tension between you both became palpable.

“Action!”

you turned toward him, your character’s longing meant to be subtle yet undeniable. But as your eyes met, the emotions spilling from him felt too real. For a second, you wondered if Niki was acting at all—or if he, like you, were still caught in the echoes of what you used to be.

Of what once was.

The final day of shooting had been grueling, but the wrap party was in full swing. The studio’s rooftop terrace glittered with string lights and a panoramic view of the city skyline. Cast, crew, and industry insiders mingled, laughing and toasting to the success of the project. You were tired of keeping a front for the reporters and photographers. Being close to Niki, feeling his touch on your skin, his gaze on yours—it was all too overwhelming. Moreover, it didn’t make anything better that fans and media shipped you both together after the music video was released. Countless of interviews included him, you felt as if all your hard work was underestimated because of Niki. As if your boost in popularity was mostly because of him. It irritated you.

You worked hard for this. You made it out for yourself. No thanks to him. All you wanted was to be as far as you could from him.

You leaned against the railing, a glass of champagne in hand, but your mind was elsewhere. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of emotions. Working with Niki had stirred up everything you’ve buried—the longing, the heartbreak, the unresolved tension. And tonight, it felt like it was all teetering on the edge of spilling over. You were so fed up. The pretentious act, the subtle messages, the mixed signals. Everything.

“You’re quiet tonight.”

His voice came from behind you, gentle and steady. You didn’t have to turn to know it was Niki.

You exhaled slowly, irritated, “Just tired.”

He stepped closer, the warmth of his presence cutting through the cool night air.

“Tired, or avoiding me?”

you turn around to face him, “What are you talking about?”

His expression was calm, but his eyes spoke many messages. He shoves his hands in his pockets, sighing.

“You’ve been distant. Since that scene last week, you’ve barely looked at me, let alone talked to me. Why?” he urged, his expression holding a look of longing.

you roll your eyes, the frustration bubbling up, “I’m just doing my job. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to be doing?”

He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips, “Don’t do that. Don’t pretend this is just work. I know you felt it—every moment we’ve had together on set, it wasn’t just acting. And you’re running from it.”

your chest tightened, his words hitting too close to the truth than you like. You set your glass down on the railing, your hands trembling.

“What do you want me to say? That I feel something? That being around you again makes me question everything I’ve tried to move past?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. Your eyebrows furrow.

“Because it’s the same for me. I tried to move on, y/n, but you… you’re everywhere. And now, working with you, it’s like every wall I built is crumbling.”

you stared at him, the weight of his confession crashing into you.

You scoffed, annoyed and in disbelief at his audacity. This isn’t how the story went in your book. No.

“You left, Niki! You chose this life, this path. You can’t just show yourself in front of me after not hearing from you for years and expect me to pretend like everything is fine,” you fumed, tears clouding your vision.

His jaw tightened, “I looked for you! I came back to our hometown, I…I searched for you everywhere. But it was too late. They told me you were gone. I didn’t know where to look for you, y/n...”

Your eyes flickered in shock. Your heart dropped. He looked for you? Why didn’t you know any of this? No one ever told you that he came back for you…but still, to act like this after leaving in the first place is uncalled for. What difference does it make, right? But why is your heart beating so fast? Why is your body longing for his touch?

He steps closer to you, “I was so stupid for leaving you alone in the first place, I know. I got caught up with my schedule and training that I couldn’t even sleep, let alone text. Training was intense and immersive at the company, we weren’t allowed to communicate. By the time they were more lenient with communicating, i left you so many messages and calls. Why didn’t you answer?”

You blink, slowly taking in the information, “I had changed my number. After being ghosted by my own boyfriend, seeing you be all successful on your own and feeling like you forgot about me, hurt me. It’s when I started my acting career.”

He shook his head, “I could never abandon you, it wasn’t on purpose, y/n. I thought about you every single second. You were my motivation. I thought once i was successful enough, i’d be able to find you quicker. That you’d come find me.”

“You just decided for both of us, and I was supposed to be okay with it? Do you know what it felt like to see you fade away without a word? I was worried sick for you! I didn’t know where to find you or reach you. I even worried that you were dead! Just like that, without even officially ending it, the relationship we had built was gone in an instant. How could you do this to me?” you bit your lip, holding back the urge to cry.

The silence that followed was deafening. His shoulders slumped slightly, the fight draining out of him, “I never meant for this to happen. I never meant to hurt you. But I see now that I hurt you more than anything else ever could. And I regret it so much.”

you crossed your arms, trying to keep a calm and collected composure despite the burning feeling in your throat from trying not to cry, “You did.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the sounds of the party fading into the background.

Then, softly, he said, “I don’t want to hurt you again, y/n. But I don’t know how to stop feeling this way.”

you shook your head, tears threatening to spill, “You don’t get to say that now, Niki. You don’t get to just… come back into my life and make me feel like this all over again. Not after years of loving you—waiting for you.”

He softly flinched, his expression softening. He reached for your hand, but you pulled away, stepping back.

“I can’t do this,” you whispered, your voice breaking, “I can’t go through this again.”

You turned on your heel, heading towards the exit. You quickly get pulled back by Niki, whose grip is desperate onto your wrist.

“Don’t go,” he pleaded, “please.”

“Niki, let go of me—”

“I love you.”

Your eyes widen slightly at his abrupt words. Your body loosens, forgetting to resist. Your eyes meet, his touch on your skin tingles.

“What are you saying?” You managed to say, your eyes looking into his for truth.

“I love you, y/n. I never stopped loving you,” he confessed, looking down at you in yearning.

“Don’t do this,” You pleaded, shaking your head softly as tears prickle at the corner of your eyes.

You didn’t know how much you could take, and all of this was just too sudden. Like salt on the wound.

And then, Jay barges through the doors of the rooftop.

“Niki, they need you,” he said, looking back and forth between you both.

You quickly turn away, hiding your teary expression. Before he could say anything, You quickly make your way past Jay and out the doors. As you push your way through the crowd, you feel your heart breaking further and further you walk away from him.

The echoes of the rooftop confrontation lingered long after you left the party. You replayed Niki’s words in your head, over and over, until they became a loop of emotions you couldn’t escape.

For the next few days, you threw yourself into work, avoiding every call, text, and notification. Niki hadn’t reached out directly, but articles about the music video were everywhere, the internet buzzing with speculation about your "chemistry." Fans had pieced together theories and speculations about you both. It was alarming.

When your phone buzzed with a new text from your manager, you hesitated before reading it.

"Director wants you on set tomorrow. Enhypen is doing some last-minute pickups for the video, and they want you in the final scene. Non-negotiable."

You stared at the message, your stomach knotting. Facing Niki again felt impossible, but walking away now would mean letting your emotions derail your hard earned career—a line you weren’t willing to cross.

The final scene was simple: Niki and I standing together, framed by soft lighting, as the camera panned out to symbolize resolution. When you arrived, Niki was already there, surrounded by makeup team. He looked up as you entered, his expression a mix of hesitation and relief.

“Y/n,” he said, standing.

you nodded curtly, keeping your distance, “Let’s just get this over with.”

The director wasted no time, positioning you both side by side under the glow of a massive artificial sunset. The scene required you to face each other, your hands almost touching as if the unspoken tension between you had finally resolved.

“Alright, action!”

you moved into position, your eyes meeting under the soft light. Your breath caught as Niki’s hand hovered close to yours, the warmth of his presence seeping through the small space between you. The scene was supposed to be quiet, but as the camera rolled, Niki broke the silence. His voice was barely audible, meant only for you.

“I meant what I said the other night,” he whispered, his eyes searching yours.

You tensed, your carefully maintained composure cracking.

“Niki…”

“No, listen,” he continued, his voice steady but full of emotion.

“I’ve spent every day since I left regretting it. I thought I was doing what was best for us, but I was a coward. I was afraid of being no one, so I worked tirelessly to debut. I wanted to be someone for you. To get us both out of that small town. But i was too careless and forgot what all of this was for. Who all of this was for… you were the only thing keeping me grounded,” he said.

Tears welled in your eyes, but you couldn’t respond. The director called, “Cut!” but neither of you moved. Niki’s hand finally closed the gap, his fingers brushing yours.

“Please, y/n. Just tell me if there’s still a chance. I’ll fight for it—I’ll fight for us—if you want me to,” he begged, squeezing your hand.

Your throat tightened as his words sank in, “Do you think it’s that easy? That we can just pick up where we left off?”

“No,” he admitted, his voice raw, “But I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.”

The crew watched you both curiously as you stood there, the tension palpable even off-camera. Finally, you stepped back, breaking the moment.

“I need time,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Niki nodded, though the pain in his eyes was evident, “I’ll wait.”

Back in your apartment that night, you sat alone in the dim light of your living room, replaying every word he’d said. Part of you wanted to believe him, to take the leap and trust that you both could find your way back to each other. But another part of you was terrified. Of being hurt again.

Weeks after that, you continued to replay those moments with Niki. Although shooting was wrapped up and the music video was out, you still felt stuck. You hadn’t reached out to him, you hesitated every time, afraid of what could happen if you decide to let him back in. But you knew, deep down, you were running away from what you truly felt.

Love.

You ardently and most irrevocably, loved Niki.

You stared at his name on your phone for the millionth time this month. Your thumb hovering over the call button before you sighed and put the phone down. You just didn’t have the courage to do it. Just as you were about to head to the kitchen for coffee, there was a knock at the door. You froze, your heart racing.

Yes, you just knew.

when you opened the door, there he was. Niki, standing in the hallway, looking like he hadn’t slept. His hair was a mess, his outfit still impeccable, but his eyes—those eyes that always seemed to see through you—were unwavering.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice weaker than you intended.

“I couldn’t leave things like that,” he said, his voice low but steady. “Please, I just needed to see you.”

You hesitated, every part of you screaming to slam the door and protect what was left of your fragile heart. But something in his expression stopped you.

“Five minutes,” you said, stepping aside.

He walked in, his movements careful, as though afraid of pushing you further away. You stayed near the door, arms crossed, your defenses firmly in place.

“I know I hurt you,” he began, his hands clenching at his sides. “And I’ve been trying to figure out the right way to say this, but there isn’t one. I’ve been missing you, missing you like crazy.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity.

“You don’t know what it was like for me, Niki. Watching you rise, seeing your face everywhere while I was trying to forget—do you have any idea how that felt?”

“I do,” he said softly, “Because I was watching you too. Every movie, every headline—you were everywhere, y/n. And every time, I thought, ‘She’s better off without me.’ But now…”

He paused, his voice breaking slightly, “Now I know I was wrong. I don’t want to just be a memory in your life. I want to be part of it again.”

The vulnerability in his voice shattered something in you.

He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours,“let me prove it to you. Whatever it takes, I’ll do it. Just… don’t shut me out, y/n. Not again. I don’t want to lose you when i just got you back.”

“I can’t promise anything,” you said finally.

He holds you by your arms, looking down at you tenderly.

He nodded, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips. “That’s enough.”

You both stare at eachother in silence, the tension growing heavier and heavier. Your eyes glance down at his lips and then up at his eyes. And before you both knew it, you were drawing closer and closer to each other.

He kisses you, softly and tenderly. For a second, you’re stunned but quickly close your eyes in relief as you kiss him back. He lets out a soft, relieved, sigh as he moves his hands from your arms to cup your face. He deepened the kiss, savoring every taste of you. He starts to push forward, causing you to move backward until your back hits the wall. The kiss is yearnful, desperate, and so messy. Feelings you didn’t know you had emerged from you. Finally, you both pull away to catch your breath.

“I missed this,” he exhaled, both of your faces just mere inches away.

Both your foreheads rested against each other. You closed your eyes, catching your breath.

“Me too…” your breath hitched as his fingers found their way under your shirt.

He captures your lips once again, slowly yet hungrily. He picks you up, you wrap your legs around his torso and your arms around his neck. He leads you blindly to the bedroom, laying you on top of the bed. He positions himself between your legs as he towers over you, using his arms to support his weight. He doesn’t break the kiss as his hands trail all over your body. Feeling every inch of you, remembering, noting every feature of your trembling body. He breaks the kiss to leave a trail of wet kisses on your neck, his free hand sliding under your shirt. He feels your bare skin under his touch, he grips onto your waist. You let out a shaky exhale.

“Niki…”

"Y/n,” he murmured, his tone a mix of desperation and restraint, “I can’t do this halfway with you. If I continue kissing you—touching you like this—I won’t be able to stop.”

You swallow, hard. After a moment of hesitation, you nod. He captures your lips once again, this time slowly, meaningfully, and passionately. As if he was promising so many things in one kiss. He drags his arm down your legs, slowly pulling down your shorts alongside.

His touch became more insistent as he worshipped you with a fervor that left you breathless. Whispering and groaning sweet names and phrases to you like an alluring consolation. Time seemed to blur as you both gave yourselves over to each other, the years of longing and heartbreak dissolving in the heat of the moment.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself feel—completely, unapologetically, and without restraint. Niki made you forget everything but him, his touch grounding you while his kisses sent you soaring. And as the night stretched on, the walls you'd so carefully built around your heart began to crumble, leaving nothing but the raw, undeniable truth of what you've both been fighting all along: you were meant to find your way back to each other.

By the time the music awards came, your relationship with Niki had soared. Private, but not secret. For the better of your careers, for now at least.

The thunderous applause echoed through the arena as Enhypen's name lit up the massive screen behind the stage. They had just won the biggest award of the night—Song of the Year. Fans screamed, the cameras panned across the cheering crowd, and the members of Enhypen rose to their feet, hugging each other before heading up to the stage.

You sat in the audience, clapping politely, doing your best to remain composed despite the swell of pride bubbling in your chest. You avoided the cameras, knowing full well they’d zoom in on you if you looked too emotional. Niki caught your eye as he walked by, his smile quick and fleeting, but it was enough to make your heart stutter.

The group gathered on stage, their presence commanding as the arena quieted for their speech. Jungwon took the mic first, thanking their team, their fans, and their families. The other members chimed in, their voices laced with gratitude and joy.

Then the mic was passed to Niki.

“Wow,” he started, his deep voice carrying over the crowd. “This is… unbelievable. I don’t think there’s a word big enough to describe what this moment feels like.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about this moment,” he continued, his voice steady but laced with something deeper—something vulnerable.

“When we started, we never imagined we’d make it this far. There were so many times we doubted ourselves, so many nights we wondered if we were good enough. But we had each other, and we had you—our fans—to remind us to keep going.”

The crowd roared again, but Niki wasn’t done. His hand tightened on the mic, and his eyes scanned the audience, stopping for a beat when they landed on you. Your breath hitched.

“And there’s one more person I need to thank,” he said, his tone softening.

“Someone who believed in me even before I believed in myself. Someone who’s been an inspiration, a muse, a best friend, and…” He hesitated, a small, almost nervous smile tugging at his lips, “The love of my life.”

Gasps and cheers rippled through the crowd. The cameras swiveled immediately to you, who froze in your seat, your cheeks flushing under the bright lights. Your eyes widen a bit. The crowd cheered lowly at the sight of your beautiful appearance.

Niki's voice grew steadier, more certain, “Y/n, I know this might be the last thing you want right now, but I can’t go up here and pretend you’re not the reason I’ve made it this far. You’ve challenged me, supported me, and even when things were hard, you never stopped being my light.”

“I’ve spent so long trying to prove that I’m worthy of standing next to you. And now, I’m standing here tonight, on this stage, with this award, and I want the world to know that it’s because of you. Thank you, Y/n.”

Tears pricked your eyes as the entire arena seemed to dissolve into chaos. Fans screamed, the cameras fixated on you, and Enhypen's members exchanged wide-eyed looks with one another.

Your gaze locked with Niki's, and despite the noise, the flashing lights, and the million eyes on you both, it felt like you were the only two people in the room.

Niki stepped back from the mic as the crowd continued to roar, his lips curling into a soft smile meant only for you.

You flashed a pretty smile, a chuckle following after. Maybe it was the shock, maybe it was how thoughtful this was, or simply you just loved him so much that nothing else mattered.

The night ended with fans buzzing, headlines exploding, and Enhypen securing their place as not just award winners but as the center of one of the most iconic love declarations in recent history.

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 24!!!

Guess who finally had the time and spoons to write?? ME. I DID.

I promise I'll update as much as I can, but finding time to sit down and write for fun is hard in grad school, folks. It's also on my To Do List to put this whole thing on AO3. Most importantly, I wand you to know that I love this story too much to abandon it.

Okay, that being said, let's do this.

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********************************

Metatron had drawn a number of conclusions while studying the developments in the Book of Life. First of all, he gathered that the book was a ways behind on the transpiring events – given that it had some catching up to do, it seemed. Second, the longer the human remained, the more permanent the new story in the book became. The white tape in the first few pages now being impossible to scratch away, while the alterations were still possible in the pages currently being written. The third, and most important development was the one that had brought him, once again, to Earth. This time, however, he found himself staring at the tall shelves of an institution known as Waterstones.

Although it was much less of a mess than Aziraphale’s bookshop, it was just as crowded. He held back a sigh. Something about this planet seemed to have every being desperate to collect as many blasted things as possible. Movement in his periphery drew his attention, and he saw that a shop employee had appeared to his left, looking confused. Of course the young man was confused, it wasn’t British behaviour to approach customers to ask if they needed help. But when you happen to be The Metatron, things (and people) seemed to anticipate your needs. Indeed, he reflected, The Lord Provides.

“Can I help you find something?” The employee asked. He shifted as he stood, clearly uncomfortable with the interaction.

“Ah, yes,” Metatron replied, “I am, as a matter of fact, looking for a book, and it would seem that I need some assistance in finding it. Might you be able to tell me where I may find a book called...Good Omens?”

“Oh, yeah,” the young man said, “It’s in the Fantasy section, right this way.”

“Fantasy?” Metatron mused, following the employee through the shop to the shelf in question, “How quaint.”

The employee raised an eyebrow as he handed Metatron a copy of the novel. Metatron took it, and flipped through the pages, an amused smile spreading across his face.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” The employee asked uncertainly. He was clearly hoping for the interaction to be over with as soon as possible. Metatron raised an eyebrow, quietly surprised the young man was still there.

“No, thank you,” He said, “I believe I have all that I need.”

He left the shop without paying. No alarms went off, and no one noticed.

*****************************

You may be hyped up on adrenaline right now and a hair’s breadth from screaming just to release some of the pent-up energy running wild through your brain, but Jeremy – the entitled, rich, teenage son-of-God-re-incarnate – is cornered. Anathema and Sardis have cut off his retreat, you and Aziraphale have his front and side options covered, and Crowley stands towering above him.

“Well, well, well,” Crowley drawls with a devilish grin, “It’s been a while, now, hasn’t it?”

You see Jeremy stumble back, watch his eyes flick to the three of you in front of him, then to the side as he realizes there are more people behind him. Thank goodness you spent all that time starting at gifs of Micheal “Acting Choices” Sheen, because you’re able to see the calculating look that flickers behind his gaze. He’s assessing his options. It takes all of a second before he straightens up, folds his arms, and cocks his head to the side.

“How much?” he asks. Clearly, this is not the response that Crowley’s expecting, because you can see the demon’s face scrunch. He exhales loudly.

“Oh well, gotta be at least,” Crowley glances back to Aziraphale with a shrug “At least...what would you say...’bout...two thousand years, give or take...” Aziraphale shrugs back, and Crowley returns his attention to the teen. Anathema smacks her forehead with her hand.

“What??” Jeremy asks. He’s looking at Crowley and Aziraphale like they came from outer space. Well, he wouldn’t technically be wrong. “I meant money, dumbass.”

“Whoa,” You say, “Uncalled for, kid.”

Well, you all did just chase a child through alleyways and commit at least three traffic violations in the process so….okay, maybe the kid deserves one. But he doesn’t need to know that.

“You chased and cornered a child,” Jeremy replies, arms still crossed, “I could call the police and all of you would be arrested on the spot.”

Dammit, he’s smart.

“Look,” Crowley starts, “We just need you to come with us.”

“Yeah...” Jeremy drawls, “I don’t think so.”

“Listen here!” Crowley’s voice is getting louder. He’s not shouting just yet, but he’s on the verge of it. Jeremy sees an opening.

“What? Are you gonna make me?” The teen is almost laughing. He’s not trying too hard to hold back his giggles as Crowley’s face grows red with anger. Aziraphale takes a step forward, placing a hand on Crowley’s shoulder. It keeps him cool – barely.

“We need you to come with us because we need your help saving the world,” Aziraphale says calmly.

Oh no, he thinks he can be reasonable with a rich, entitled, teenager. Now the kid actually starts laughing.

“Wow,” You say, looking at Crowley and Aziraphale, “You two are really bad at this.”

“You are welcome to try if you like,” Aziraphale says through gritted teeth. Oh crap. Well, you walked right into that one. You clear your throat – may as well give it a shot.

“Listen, kid,” You say. Jeremy forces his laughing into submission and looks at you like he’s waiting for the punchline to a joke. “For real, these two here are magical beings okay?”

“Pffffff, right. So am I. It’s called Being Rich.”

“No, but they can do miracles. Like actual miracles!”

“Yeah, me too. It’s called Being Rich.”

Okay, so it turns out you're not any better at this than Crowley and Aziraphale are.

Not that you thought this was going to be easy, but you realize that this is still going to be a LOT harder than you thought. And you really don’t think time is on your side.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

I'm gonna set the poll duration to 3 days this time. Give people a chance to see that I've updated (and remember I exist ^_^" )

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[ratinacoat]

Buddy. Buddy. Endos do not have alters because "alter" means "alternate personality state", states that are kept separate due to dissociative barriers that only exist because of trauma. You cannot have dissociative barriers without trauma.

That second paragraph is just objectively untrue. Endos and CDD systems don't hold similarities in the way they function or exist because one is caused by trauma and one isn't. Alters in CDD's are results of the brain using a defense mechanism it learned to protect. Endos do not have that defense mechanism. Endogenic plurality also isn't proven, it's just a belief or personal identity label. CDD's are disorders.

Third paragraph is basically just ignoring peoples experiences in the communities. Myself and many others have been taken advantage of by system communities a lot. They're hell holes and just looking at this thread, you are a part of why. You're so aggressive for no reason and such an asshole all the time. Exactly the problem.

4th paragraph. Not witnessing something doesn't mean it doesn't happen. Integration, dormancy, fusion, etc are very commonly demonized in system spaces. Often people are forced to put a TW on their recovery. Sys communities like to treat healing like it's getting rid of your alters, throwing them into the void when it's not.

5th paragraph. Just a "I haven't seen this happen". That requires nothing but a "I don't think this happens" isn't really good proof in an argument. I'll add more anyway though. I have personally experienced these things. The system community, endos and RAMCOA people especially, took advantage of the fact I was unmedicated and convinced me things were worse than they are. Some even tried to convince me to kill my father! I lost years of a relationship with my mother because they convinced me she was evil. I witness my friend deal with this every day as he tells me insane shit endos tell him. Like feeling as though you're a character = fictive!

So basically in essence, your argument is just a desperate attempt say endos fit into spaces that contradict their own label with no actual real proof.

Shared spaces between endos and CDD systems can actually be really harmful but y'all aren't ready for that conversation

[dare-g]

waiting for a bit of glue to dry then my Halloween costume is done! really happy with how it has turned out idk if I'm going to have the patience to wait till Halloween to post like I told myself I would

[brittlebutch]

finding a character that grates against your nerves and eventually thinking, well, that's not fair, you haven't done anything; why do i dislike you? and then you dwell on this for a while and discover 'oh! you are like me when i was younger' and decide well, i'll simply learn how to love the both of you. power in this.

[milkweedman]

Bought a pair of pants at goodwill earlier but all the ones I've been to have had their changing rooms closed the whole pandemic so couldn't try them on... did pull out my measuring tape that's on my keys and they were pretty much my size, but I have discovered that while they would fit well if they had a normal waistband, they actually have a stretchy waistband (like, strip of elastic sewn the whole way around) and thus are so big that they're falling off me, because their own weight kind of pulls them down so that the cuffs drag on the ground. Unclear if they're intended to be high waisted and just too big or for someone bigger in all dimensions than I am, but not the point.

I've been trying to figure out how to fix this, bc they're very comfy. I kinda wish I could just take out the elastic and do a drawstring but there's 2 buttons and a zipper that would definitely complicate things. Could also wear a belt, if I had one and if they weren't the worst sensory experience since not wearing socks.

[icewindandboringhorror]

I still very loathe the Media Trope of ‘’cold genius man doesn’t feel emotions and never has relationships... UNTIL.. one random relatively bland Preddy Woman comes along and warps his entire personality and ability to think, his heart has grown and his seeming asexuality has evaporated, he is now Normal :)” or whatever like... AS a walking generic hermit archetype myself.. we would NOT act like that .... just let people be detached weirdos in peace, you cowards .. OR, don’t bother to write one in the first place if you find us too boring to exist realistically in our natural state lol.. pathetic 

[gojorgeous]

"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.

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[saja-star]

I've had a hard time articulating to people just how fundamental spinning used to be in people's lives, and how eerie it is that it's vanished so entirely. It occurred to me today that it's a bit like if in the future all food was made by machine, and people forgot what farming and cooking were. Not just that they forgot how to do it; they had never heard of it.

When they use phrases like "spinning yarns" for telling stories or "heckling a performer" without understanding where they come from, I imagine a scene in the future where someone uses the phrase "stir the pot" to mean "cause a disagreement" and I say, did you know a pot used to be a container for heating food, and stirring was a way of combining different components of food together? "Wow, you're full of weird facts! How do you even know that?"

When I say I spin and people say "What, like you do exercise bikes? Is that a kind of dancing? What's drafting? What's a hackle?" it's like if I started talking about my cooking hobby and my friend asked "What's salt? Also, what's cooking?" Well, you see, there are a lot of stages to food preparation, starting with planting crops, and cooking is one of the later stages. Salt is a chemical used in cooking which mostly alters the flavor of the food but can also be used for other things, like drawing out moisture...

"Wow, that sounds so complicated. You must have done a lot of research. You're so good at cooking!" I'm really not. In the past, children started learning about cooking as early as age five ("Isn't that child labor?"), and many people cooked every day their whole lives ("Man, people worked so hard back then."). And that's just an average person, not to mention people called "chefs" who did it professionally. I go to the historic preservation center to use their stove once or twice a week, and I started learning a couple years ago. So what I know is less sophisticated than what some children could do back in the day.

"Can you make me a snickers bar?" No, that would be pretty hard. I just make sandwiches mostly. Sometimes I do scrambled eggs. "Oh, I would've thought a snickers bar would be way more basic than eggs. They seem so simple!"

Haven't you ever wondered where food comes from? I ask them. When you were a kid, did you ever pick apart the different colored bits in your food and wonder what it was made of? "No, I never really thought about it." Did you know rice balls are called that because they're made from part of a plant called rice? "Oh haha, that's so weird. I thought 'rice' was just an adjective for anything that was soft and white."

People always ask me why I took up spinning. Isn't it weird that there are things we take so much for granted that we don't even notice when they're gone? Isn't it strange that something which has been part of humanity all across the planet since the Neanderthals is being forgotten in our generation? Isn't it funny that when knowledge dies, it leaves behind a ghost, just like a person? Don't you want to commune with it?

[creatingblackcharacters]

No, That’s Not ‘How Color Works’. - Whitewashing

Whitewashing, as defined by Merriam-Webster:

"to alter (something) in a way that favors, features, or caters to white people: such as a) to portray (the past) in a way that increases the prominence, relevance, or impact of white people and minimizes or misrepresents that of nonwhite people and B) to alter (an original story) by casting a white performer in a role based on a nonwhite person or fictional character"

In fandom context, we know it to include:

Making someone’s skin lighter

Making someone’s hair a thinner texture

Changing someone’s nose to be thinner

Shrinking their lips

Changing the character in their entirety to be someone else

The Normalization of Whitewashing

Remember how I mentioned last lesson that despite the nature of poorly drawn Black characters, most audiences are not turned off enough to discourage the action in professional works? Similar idea with whitewashing. Not the same- unlike the Ambiguously Brown Character, which claims to have plausible deniability, overt whitewashing is usually enough to make fans speak up! But that’s the key word here- overt! It has to be “bad enough” to make enough people speak up, but as we’ve seen many a time, “bad enough” seems to have a much higher threshold for nonblack viewership (sometimes the limit doesn’t exist!)

Some visual examples

This is a link to my personal thread on a Netflix show I was watching- Worst Ex Ever. Now, while the show itself was quite enlightening, there was something I could not get over. I thought I was going crazy. And that was that no matter how dark the person of color would be in real life, the animated portions would draw this light pinkish-brown. Every. Single. Time. It's like they couldn't fathom scrolling down the color wheel. And this is a Netflix original! Netflix has plenty of money for someone to have caught this in creation. But... it was produced. And put out. And they're making more of it.

I asked all of the Dragon Age fans about the series, and uh… I didn’t know things were this bad, guys! Apparently this is a man of color, but it doesn't seem like the creators want you to know that 🤣. Jokes aside, as I’ve discussed before, the noticeable whitewashing- and that was one of many racist things I was told- was not enough to prevent sales... so why would they stop? I can only hope this new game, with all the updates, is enough to turn the tide. But the series has gone on for a while now, that if they’d chosen to do ye same olde… there clearly would not be a lack of financial support to prevent it.

Colorism as a Tool

Even when actors of color are cast, colorism often plays a role in normalizing whitewashing to audiences, even to Black audiences! People think “oh well at least they’re Black!” as if that is the only important part. It is not.

While Aaron Pierre, the actor cast for John Stewart of Green Lantern fame, is a GORGEOUS, STUNNING man, he is not the dark-skinned man that John Stewart is supposed to be and should not have been cast! To me, this is overt colorism, but clearly for many people this is not “enough” to warrant concern or even prevent the casting itself- including the studio behind the movie! Black fans have plead for years for the character of Storm to be played by a dark-skinned, preferably African, woman, and it has never happened.

It naturally happens in fan spaces as well, which is another indicator that colorism as a tool for whitewashing is quite effective for audiences. If I see one more Zendaya fan cast for Kida from Atlantis, I will scream. It’s been happening for years, and I don’t think any of the people who just want to see her and Tom on screen either understand or care that Kida is a dark-skinned character. Zendaya doesn’t look anything like Kida- it doesn’t matter if she’s Black too! Just because someone is Black does not mean they can play every single Black character! I’ve even seen people fancast Emilia Clarke of Game of Thrones fame, to which… I don’t have the words. I can’t fathom what would cause these decisions other than racism.

The Common Excuses

I must be honest. I don’t really feel like re-iterating how certain things are not okay and how to fix them, because I’ve already discussed these things in massive detail. So I’m just going to direct the excuses I regularly hear to my lessons, where you can read up on them.

“Their hair/eyes are like that because they’re biracial so-”

Relevant Lessons: 2.1, 2.2, 2.3, 8, 9, 10

There is nothing wrong with having biracial characters with a range of features. I am not saying that! Because yeah, genetics do happen!

But I mentioned this in my last lesson, and I will re-emphasize here, that using biracial identity as a way to whitewash is a sinister form of racism. The intention here- the real intention- is the issue here! The idea that somehow this character can only look the way you want them to look by "diluting" their Blackness… I don’t know how you can explain yourselves out of that one.

You don’t get to use us as an excuse for diversity while still trying to maintain your preference for Eurocentric beauty standards. Black biracial people don’t always look light skinned, thin-haired and ambiguous, and even the ones that do don’t deserve to be treated as your fetish for pretend antiracism. If you just want to draw a white person with a tan, do that. But don’t change a character’s entire look just so you can work in some whiteness. If you want to claim that canon Black character’s mother was white, then I guess they inherited some of her personality because their features should not change.

“It’s my style/It’s the color-”

Relevant Lessons: 3, 4, 10

I hate all excuses for whitewashing, but I’ve grown to despise, hate, abhor and loathe this one the most as I’ve become an artist. I wish there were stronger words to describe just how much I hate the “style” and “color” excuse.

Are style and use of color oft intertwined? Absolutely. I’m not saying they aren’t. But out of everything, there are two things I want artists to understand:

1. Style does not cancel out racism! No style forces you to choose ashy greys and to change peoples’ features. That’s you! If you look at something, and it looks offensive, you change the style. You grow as an artist!

2. “Everyone who is brown will look ashy so I just-” if you recognize that your Black characters look strange in comparison to your nonblack characters, then it’s time to try something else! I don’t understand this sudden need for “realism” when it comes to color and lighting, but not when it comes to hair, for example. No one cares about realism when giving every and all Black characters wavy tresses they probably wouldn’t have, but suddenly milquetoast watercolor attempts at brown and off-putting lighting is “how it works”. That’s not fair.

The color picker is an available tool! I use it often!

Dead giveaway of purposeful whitewashing: if someone gets the outfit color palette right via color picking, but the skin color is multiple shades lighter. That means they were looking at that character and chose not to proceed.

Dead giveaway of purposeful whitewashing: if the white characters in the show are completely correct in their palettes. Again, that means they cared enough to look at everyone else… and not the Black characters.

If you use the color picker and the color picked is… disrespectful, you do not have to use that! You can simply choose a better color that is still similar to the brown that ought to be depicted!

“It’s the lighting-”

Relevant Lessons: 4, 5

If your white characters do not shine like snow in the sunlight because of your lighting, then your lighting does not make your Black characters suddenly light tan.

If your Black characters look bad in your lighting of choice- for example, putting a very dark-skinned character in electric white lighting can be ghastly- try changing the intensity or the color of the lighting. DON’T change your character’s skin color!

I'm going to show you some pictures of South Sudanese model Nyakim Gatwech. Pay attention to the choices of light, color, and makeup.

Look how BEAUTIFUL she is! Look at the choices of intensity and color of light, and how they make her look different in each image.

Now look at this image in comparison:

In this image, whoever did her makeup and took this picture did not take into consideration her skin tone. She's also under this really intense lighting. This is an example of "increasing the lighting does NOT make an image "better"". She didn't need to have lighter skin or "more lighting" to look good. She needed BETTER lighting, lighting that worked with HER.

To see this as an example in drawn art, @dsm7 makes an excellent argument for proper lighting and color, why it is an issue to use it as an excuse, and how to solve that problem.

‼️DISCLAIMER FOR NEXT EXAMPLE‼️

Okay. I am about to show y’all a fan-created example from my personal experience. It is a TEACHING EXPERIENCE ONLY. I am not including the artist’s name in this image. It happened a couple years ago, and it’s over- they’ve chosen to be who they are despite me kindly confronting them about it. The only reason I’m including it at all is because I feel like it would be remiss to have such a clear-cut, multi-level example, and not teach with it. That said, no, I am not telling anyone to act out towards them. Again, that is not what I’m telling you to do. The last thing I need is a literal lynch mob of angry nonblack viewership for trying to teach you all, and y’all sitting there watching it happen to me. Every example of whitewashing is not going to be so obvious, but I hope you learn how to spot the examples in the art you see and share.

I'm obviously a Hades fan, particularly of Patroclus- despite my disdain for the lack of effort in his canon character design. So I've seen a lot of things. That said:

“Well it’s just MY design of them-”

Relevant Lessons: ALL

The sepia coloring did not do this. The lighting did not do this. The design is the exact same as the Hades version, even down to the shape of the hair curling in the back. The only thing that is different… is the man himself.

Y'all. Y'all! You CANNOT take a pre-existing Black character and say “oh well this is my design of them” …and the design is of a whole white person. Because if the rest of the fit is the same, and the only thing that changed is the Blackness… Racism. If you’re going to “make up your own design”, then do that!

“Blackwashing”

Speaking of: I’m sure someone edgy out there thinks they’re so smart as they retort to the screen: “but if that’s not okay, then why is Blackwashing okay?” To which I say- shut up. 😐

The “definition” by fandom: making a nonblack character Black, usually an anime character, but characters in general.

Funny enough, the actual definition in the dictionary (or closest to) is “to defame”, in contrast with whitewash (as in whitewashing history). Maybe racist fans ARE using it correctly when they say you’re blackwashing their characters, when they mean you’re making them “less likable because they’re Black now”. 🤔

Anyway: Blackwashing is not real for the same reason reverse racism is not real.

Me painting these characters brown is not going to take away from the fact that there are far more of you in media than there is of me. Me saying that I ‘headcanon a character as Black with 4C hair’ is not going to make the studio go “oh! Well they must be Black with 4C hair now!” Me saying “oh I think I’d like this character better if they were Black” as a beta tester (less overtly, obviously, because I’m not racist!) will never make a studio change that character. Black viewers have minimal value in comparison to the power of the white viewer’s dollar. I could draw white characters Black every single day of every single game media… and they would still produce majority white characters. There has not been centuries- if not millennia, when we consider Jesus Christ himself, even- of purposeful “Blackwashing” with the intent of removing the original ethnicity- and thus importance- of white people. No one has ever been allowed to forget when someone is white. No one has ever been allowed to forget or not acknowledge white people.

How it could be "solved"

Personally, I love Black edits and I welcome them here. I find them creative and fun. But if you really, REALLY didn’t want us to make those edits, then naturally, we need more Black characters in all of our media!

I wouldn’t have to make edits if I saw more of me to begin with in the things I like to watch- but when we have those characters, racists act an ass about them. We’re not allowed to even be present! I’ve seen too many gamer bros mocking the existence of Yasuke in Assassin’s Creed, and he was a real ass man. But if we made a game about African peoples in African societies, how many of the gamer bros would actually play those games? Do you think there’d be as much support, when we hear so much about Black characters that are treated so abhorrently? How many games do we have where people would love their faves just as much if they were Black? I even learned that Solas was apparently supposed to be a man of color. IMAGINE how many people would not have liked that man, with the same exact plot and characterization.

Something I’ve noticed recently: apparently "Blackwashing" is not a thing when White fans “allow” it. Take this recent trend with Miku. International Miku was beloved! But if you draw any other character as Black on any other day, there will be people that are horrid about it. Ask any artist, Black artists and Black cosplayers especially, who’s ever done it what their comments are like. I’ve read entire missives akin to white supremacist drivel on how it’s somehow morally wrong to make characters Black. Meanwhile no amount of “hey maybe you shouldn’t do this” prevented the movie Gods of Egypt from being created, with a cast full of British White people.

Solutions to Avoiding Whitewashing!

1) Using References!!

Do I think you should know what Black people look like? Yes. We’re humans. It’s 2024. Everyone knows what we look like when it’s time to hate and discriminate against us, so you know what we look like when it’s time to love and depict us. If you’re on Tumblr, you have access to the Internet. ESPECIALLY if you’re in the U.S., as Black people are the source of damn near every piece of online pop culture. If you can find my dialect to make my jokes, you can find pictures of me.

Would I rather you use a reference every single time so that you can only strengthen your depiction of my people? ABSOLUTELY.

Anyone on the Internet telling you not to use a reference or that you shouldn’t need a reference? Unfollow them. You don’t need that negativity in your life. Why would you deprive yourself of a tool to create? The greatest portrait painters in history had to look at their subjects! You are not getting paid nearly as much to do this as Hans Holbein, and he had to stare at Henry VIII correct else lose his head- you can pull up multiple references. I’d far rather be judged for using hella references than be judged for being a racist!

Part of the issue is people draw what they’re used to, what they’re comfortable with (thus last lesson). But if what you’re used to is not what someone will look like… That’s not okay. Their features are not the issue, your skills are the issue. Learn! Practice! There is no rush. No one is rushing you to be perfect at drawing Black characters, and no one is rushing you to post them. You can just practice! If you’re not a professional, you can take as long as you need to draw! If you need to draw that piece of hair over and over until you feel like you have down the shape, you do that! If you need to use a tool that would draw the hair for you, you get that tool!

If you want to post, you can say you are practicing! If you make clear you are practicing, then be willing to accept that people may have feedback. I’d far rather deal with someone saying they’re unconfident and practicing, than someone posting a whitewashed caricature and closing their ears because “well at least I’m trying!”

2) Empathize! Care about actual Black people when you create a Black character!

Imagine, if you will, in the Twilight Zone: you went to an artist, and you asked for a white character (I typed in “regular looking white dude” on google). There’s hardly ever any white characters, you’re so super excited about this one! You paid good money, because you’ve seen just how amazing this artist creates! They’re so good at drawing characters of color! But no matter how many times you ask, they send you back an image of… Assad Zaman.

That man might be fine as hell! Gorgeous! Beautifully done! Chef’s kiss. Stunning! But… He’s not white. That’s not what you asked or paid for. You can’t even fathom how they mixed this up, they don’t even look alike! And when you confront them, they gaslight you, they call YOU the issue for not understanding how you can’t tell that this is a white man! They would never get this wrong! They have white friends, you’re the racist! But you’re not stupid, and you have functioning eyes- you can SEE what this drawing looks like! And… It’s not you.

It’s dehumanizing. It’s being told that there’s a “better way” to look like you, and that’s by… Not looking like you. You, as you exist, are what’s incorrect. Your identity is incorrect, not their drawing. It’s better to have thinner hair instead of an afro or locs, it’s better to have lighter skin, it’s better to have a straighter, thinner nose over a round one, and smaller lips.

And what makes it worse is knowing that people who don’t look like you? Probably won’t care. They won’t be willing to see- not unable, but unwilling- that playing with this caricature is harmful, that they’re propagating harm by not acknowledging it. They’re letting you know that your humanity means less to them than the clout received with a whitewashed or half-assed Black character, and that people will applaud them for that ‘attempt at inclusion’. And people will applaud! They will be entertained by the mere performance! And that hurts.

I’m going to say this, and it’s awkward and I try not to say it directly on here, but… Having Black friends and/or being around actual, real life Black people would help. I can tell from some of the questions I receive that Black characters and their traits- especially things like our hair and our cultures- are being treated as… alien concepts. But even if, for whatever reason, you legitimately don’t know any Black people, you do not need to know us individually to care about our humanity as a whole! Even if you do not know we’re there, we are, and we could possibly see your work!

By acknowledging Blackness and making room to understand what it means- and that includes how we can look- you are doing the bare minimum of acknowledging our personhood. If you cannot do even that, you don’t need to be drawing us.

Conclusion

Here’s the thing: if you want to draw a white man with tanned skin, do that. Just do it! You do NOT have to erase me to have more of you! There is not a single fandom where the majority of the white fans ever said “gee, not another white guy!” It simply doesn’t happen. God knows we wish it did sometimes. You will always have an audience for white characters. There’s no danger to any of you of “being erased”.

(Without putting on my political hat, I will say that a lot of white people who consider themselves to be far from white supremacist will express beliefs in line with great replacement theory if you push them hard enough. It is unfortunately not as uncommon an idea as you might think. I would do some self-evaluation.)

People are going to notice that you only ever draw white people, but… To be frank, that has never stopped anybody from being successful. Again, Jen Zee, at Supergiant with the terrible dark-skinned characters… Still has a job. at Supergiant. A professional studio. Dragon Age. Multiple games of consistent whitewashing and racist writing. Still going. If racism prevented creation and popularity, I wouldn’t have to have this blog. Alas, that is the society we currently live in.

But if you ACTUALLY want to depict Black characters, if you ACTUALLY want to do right and be respectful- not because you want the clout, but because it’s the right damn thing to do- then you need to commit! This means drawing them as they are meant to be! Accept that you’ll likely lose some fan base, who was there (whether they were aware of it or not) for the white and lighter skinned characters. Accept that this means that trying to appeal to those people by whitewashing characters is 1) wrong, 2) racist, which is 3) something you chose to do when you could simply have just… Drawn more white people.

I’ll say it again: antiracism is hard. It’s hard doing the right thing in a society that rewards racism so easily. It’s really hard knowing that people will stop supporting you or caring as much about your work when you start including Black characters as actively as you do white ones, especially if you start talking about the importance of it. But in my honest opinion, I’d far rather be someone that cared about others, with genuine fans, than someone that was racist for the fleeting internet clout of strangers. And that may be less ‘hopeful’ than I normally am in these lessons, but… People make choices. And people who have been informed- as you are now- are aware of the choices they are making. It’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers- let’s choose better actions.

[arminslovurrr]

choso who loves when u ride him, his rugged hands on ur ass as u grind ur cunt on his length. he’s a mess, his eyebrows furrowed as he immersed himself in the way u looked down at him like u owned everything that was him, his pillowy pink lips parted as whiny moans spewed out of his mouth like a fluid river. “fuh-fuckkkkk… u-ur so pretty baby mnghh..” he’d whine with his glossy eyes glued to ur pretty face. i mean, who wouldn’t be a wreck? the way u would move ur hips in a circular motion whilst still slamming ur self down onto his pelvis at an agonizing pace, the way u would every so often leaned down to peck his puffy lips n the way ur tough facade began to fade when his fat tip would slightly graze against ur g-spot. slowly losing himself everytime u would clench ur warm walls around his girth, it was all too perfect,even the part when u continued to ride him even though he had already spilled his thick silky cum into ur warmth.

he’d grip ur ass so tightly as he pushed himself impossibly deeper into ur heat, kissing ur cervix in the process just to spurt his creamy seed into ur womb, “awh choooo,” u whined as u slowed ur hips “that was alot, no? think you’ve been pent up, huh?” you teased as he nodded his head profusely. “s-shit, mhmm.. been so worked up angel..” he said as he wiped a bit of sweat off of his head. “then ya must have some more f’me, right?” u said tilting ur head to the right as u began to ride him again. “wha-what are you doin.. i just came, don’t have anymore f’yo- fuckk!!” he groaned softly when u bounced up n down on his thick cock, “shh it’s okay cho” you smiled at him, reaching a hand down to rub his rosy cheeks with ur thumb. digging his nails into ur hips as he tried to get u to let up on ur pace, “ple-easeeeee, c-can’t- hah fuckin take it babyyyy..” choso whimper as tears brimmed his waterline. not responding to him, u sped up ur pace, his sleepy looking eyes widening as he tosses his head back. if he wanted to say something, now he couldn’t, all words were stuck in his throat only letting a string of whines pass through.

“too much ‘s too much, gna cum f’you again baby!” he simpered as his hips involuntarily buck up to meet ur thrusts. it was so much, his eyes squeezed shut, biting his bottom lip in a attempt to stifle his moans- which did not work btw tears rolling down his pink cheeks,spilling his hot sticky cum into u once again as he cried out ur name. “fuck choso, ur cryin..” u watched in awe, ur hips slowing down to a maintainable pace so he could ride out his orgasm. once he came down from his high, he looked at u like u we’re a psychopath “u almost rode me to death, i mean it felt good but i felt like i was dying!” he said dramatically as he stared up at u, watching a smile form on ur face. his theory of u being a mad woman checked out when u said “chooo, i still haven’t cum yetttt, think you can go again?” ur say batting ur eyelashes,putting on the most irresistible face u could. u knew u won when he threw his head back into the pillow with a groan. he just couldn’t resist u n u knew it!

a/n: hiii guysss, i just wanted to whip up something real quick so im sorry for any spelling mistakes n stuff !!

© arminslovurr 2024, do not copy, translate or alter my work in any way.

[deathanddogs]

Translation:

Jehan: "Revolution without the guillotine", how I've longed to hear that phrase!

Jehan: Had you been there for the French Revolution, the great poet André Chénier would not have been decapitated

Jehan: I wished to convey that splendor, so I wrote a poem.

Jehan: It is called "The Poppy: Blooming in the Snow"

Grantaire: You are all like the sons of the French Revolution

Grantaire: The rights of the people, the Republic, democracy, civilization, progress, religion, revolution

Grantaire: What's the point of such things?

Grantaire: There are other things to learn: The best coffee is to be had at the Cafe Lemblin, a wonderful chicken dish to be had at Mother Sauget's

Grantaire: Good lasses at the Ermitage on the Boulevard du Maine, that sort of thing.

Courfeyrac: Then why did you follow me?

Grantaire: ...ah... I don't know either

Grantaire: ....... hello~

Grantaire: My apologies for the mess

Grantaire: Forgive me, I am Grantaire

Grantaire, in whom writhed doubt, loved to watch faith soar in Enjolras.

He had need of Enjolras.

That chaste, healthy, firm, upright, hard, candid nature charmed him, without his being clearly aware of it,

and without the idea of explaining it to himself having occurred to him.

[incognit0slut]

A SPECIAL SHOW

Part 3 of kinktober | main masterlist

virgin!spencer x fem!reader; Lingerie, Exhibitionist/voyeur, overstimulation, squirting

No one would’ve guessed you liked to touch yourself in front of billions of people online, except for your roommate, who you thought would be a great addition to your next late-night session.

Words: 6,213

a/n: my kinktober is running late. Oopsss

THERE WAS SOMETHING EXHILARATING ABOUT BEING WATCHED. You reveled in the sensation of being the center of attention. You weren't sure how it started, nor when it started, all you knew was that every Friday night you were always seated—or sometimes laid—in front of your computer. Webcam on, chatroom on, and most importantly, your alter ego was on.

Princess_Pink is online.

It wasn't the most creative name, but it was your initial thought when you made your account. You had always taken a certain liking for the color pink. As for princess... well, there was nothing else to it, you just liked being called that.

Princess.no1.fan: i've been waiting for you!! Adam_4432: hey princess Keaton-bigdick: ready to jerk off to you baby Hardcock69: turn on your cam!

If you told your younger self that you'd be touching yourself in front of horny strangers online, you would've scoffed in disgust. Your past innocent self would definitely look down on your choices, which honestly, something you once had questioned too at one point. But the amount of money increasing in your bank account always stops you from doubting yourself.

It was partly the reason why you were still doing this. Your nine-to-five job wasn't going to cut out the expenses you needed, providing yourself in other ways was the only option. The reason was, yes, you needed the money, that was true. But deep down you were aware of how much you actually enjoyed doing this. If you once thought that these men watching you were disgusting, horny people, then maybe you were just as disgusting as they were.

And somehow you were okay with that.

Horny_BBC: turn your fucking cam on you slut JadenCums: don't talk to her like that JadenCums: she's not going to give us anything if we don't behave Princess.no1.fan: princess pretty please show us your sexy body

You turned your camera on. There it was, your reflection on the screen. Your baby pink lingerie, a silky second skin, clung to every curve, accentuating the elegant contours of your body with its deep neckline plunging gracefully. Your hair cascaded in loose waves, catching the soft lights in your bedroom, and illuminating your smooth skin. A coy, knowing smile played on your lips, revealing a self-assured confidence that was impossible to ignore.

"Hello, boys," you greeted, your voice deep and sultry. "Did you miss me?"

A chorus of replies filled the chatroom and you smiled. You loved the attention they gave you. It was something you never gained in your normal, mundane daily life, and you actually didn't mind it. You liked being the invisible quiet girl sitting at her own desk, minding her own business. But now you were exactly the opposite of that girl and you thrived on the desires that lingered in those who watched you.

But there was still some privacy that you needed to keep because honestly, you didn't want your coworker to know this secret life of yours. You used to wear a fancy mask that looked like it came out from a masquerade ball, but with how technology has developed, you now opted to use a filter that animated your features. It was perfect.

"I had a very rough week," you continued, playing with your hair. "But now that everyone is here..." You leaned forward, showing the soft curves of your cleavage. "...I feel so much better."

Adam_4432: fucking hot Keaton-bigdick: love the dress Keaton-bigdick: love it better on the floor

You giggled. "Patience, boys. You know how this goes. We play a little game along the way." You ran a hand through your hair. "So what game do you think we should play?"

Your eyes traveled along the comments. "Twister? How are we supposed to play that? Oh—Strip poker? That does sound good—wait! Yes! We should do a classic." A smile curled on your lips. "Truth or dare."

Fatcock_777: ok truth or dare princess?

You rolled your eyes. "Truth, duh. We're starting this slow."

You scanned through the comments and picked a question that seemed easy for you to answer.

Pussylicker: have you ever masturbated in public

"I have masturbated in public," you responded, biting your bottom lip teasingly as you looked straight into the camera. "I once touched myself at work because... well, I was desperate. Locked myself inside the bathroom and fucked myself with my fingers, it was so hard keeping quiet."

You then laughed at yourself. "Alright, next question. I'm still choosing truth, by the way."

JadenCums: will you ever bring a guest here? JadenCums: would love to see you getting fucked

This time you wiped your tongue along your lip. The mere thought of having someone else please you who was not yourself, right in front of these strangers online, aroused you in a way you never thought possible. You clenched your thighs together as you imagined yourself in front of the camera while somebody else was here to touch you, to tease you—to fuck you.

"Bringing somebody else here? Sounds amazing, to be honest," you answered. "But you see, I don't think I know anyone willing to do what I do—"

Bang! Clink. Clink.

You stopped yourself and frowned. A sudden sound vibrated through your room, a jarring clash of clanging and clattering emanated from what seemed to be the kitchen. Your eyes darted toward the noise, curiosity, and concern merging on your face as you attempted to discern its source.

Another clatter followed through, louder than before.

"Wait a minute, boys," you mindlessly said to your audience, your eyes still narrowing on your bedroom door. "I'll be right back."

You quickly turned off your camera and muted your microphone, ignoring the protests thrown in the chat, and rose from your bed. With measured steps, you left the sanctity of your room and ventured into the adjacent kitchen. Your steps halted right at the moment you found your roommate stooping down to retrieve a fallen pan. The metallic clang resonated briefly, then subsided, replaced by the soft rustling of clothes and the muted glow of ambient lighting.

"Spencer?" You called out softly, your voice carrying a note of concern.

He straightened up, holding the pan in his hand. His response was apologetic, a musing note in his voice, "Sorry if I woke you. I couldn't sleep, and I thought drinking something warm could help me relax."

Your eyes wandered to the carton of milk that sat on the counter. "So you decided to make warm milk?"

"Apparently we ran out of tea..."

His voice trailed off as he looked up from the fallen pan, and as he met your gaze, time seemed to slow. His apology hung in the air, a mere whisper, as his eyes found your figure in the soft glow of the kitchen lights. The lingerie you wore, delicate and pretty, cast your curves in a subtle, alluring way.

There was one word to describe your roommate. Cute. He was really cute. If he wasn't so oblivious to your little, innocent crush, you'd already be worshiping the ground he walked on. Maybe you should've told him how you found his habit of dumping facts endearing, but then again, you felt as if he had been avoiding you ever since he found out about your late-night rendezvous with your computer.

Keeping it a secret from your friends, family, and colleagues was easy, you didn't see them often. But keeping it a secret from Spencer, your roommate who you see every day, who bluntly asked why you were whining every Friday night at the exact same time, was hard.

Surprisingly, you thought you'd be appalled by telling him the truth, but something about him made you spill out what you had been doing behind your bedroom door. He seemed like the type of person who never judged, and he obviously didn't when you told him you were doing it for the money. But even though he accepted your secret without pressing any further, you realized, he had been avoiding you ever since.

For a heartbeat, silence enveloped the room, broken only by the distant hum of the refrigerator. Then he finally tore his gaze away, clearing his throat, attempting to regain his composure. "It's Friday, huh?"

You stepped closer, your bare feet making a soft padding sound on the kitchen floor. "Yeah."

"Well, uh, you can go back to what you were doing. Don't mind me."

You couldn't help but study him with a sense of quiet fascination. There was something utterly captivating about the way he appeared in this unguarded moment, and you couldn't resist your curiosity as you observed his relaxed, almost nonchalant demeanor.

Your eyes trailed over him. The lower half of his body was swathed in loose-fitting pajama pants, their fabric patterned with a subdued design. The shirt he wore was equally unpretentious, and its well-worn, soft texture cradled his upper body loosely. His hair seized your attention next. It was disheveled and slightly tousled, its tips barely touching his shoulders.

Yet, it was his hands that captivated you the most. His hands were notably broad, his fingers long and deft. The veins that traced along the back of his hands were what had you staring further, and as you caught the way they flexed whenever he moved between the narrowed space, you wondered what it would feel like to have them on you.

And now the question from earlier kept on repeating in your head. Will you ever bring a guest here? If you had to choose someone else to please you, your answer would definitely be him.

"Hey, Spence?" He looked at you, and under the intense scrutiny of his gaze, your nerves tightened their grip on you. You quickly shook your head. "Never mind."

"No—wait. What is it?"

"It's nothing, just forget it."

He took a step forward, closing the gap between you. "Tell me what you were about to say."

It was now or never, at least, that was what you kept convincing yourself. You then braced for the question that had been lingering on the tip of your tongue. "How do you feel about joining me?"

You noticed the frown forming on his face. "Joining you?"

"Yes, for my stream." The baffled look he gave you made you explain yourself further. "You don't have to be naked! And if you must know, I use this cute filter to hide my face in a way, but if you don't like that, you can be completely anonymous. I'll make sure your face is out of the frame."

You wanted to kick yourself. The silence that came after your proposition was gnawing at you, almost as if it was mocking your brassness. This was Spencer Reid, the hot-shot FBI agent you lived with who had been avoiding you for the exact reason, and you were now inviting him to join you? What on earth were you thinking?

"See? This is stupid. Forget I said anything—"

"What do I have to do? If... if I don't have to be naked."

You blinked, caught by surprise for a moment, and then your lips curved into a coy smile. He was interested.

"You can play with me."

You took a step forward.

"Touch me."

You took satisfaction in the way his eyes lowered down your body.

"Please me." Your eyes bore into him, liking the way they turned a shade darker as he kept staring at your cleavage. "Who knows? Maybe you'll be able to sleep after this."

His eyes swept along the expansion of your neck before they met your gaze. "Just... touch you? That's it?"

"That's it," you confirmed. You wanted to ease the tension, so you joked  with a playful grin, "I'll split the money with you from this stream."

Spencer softly chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. "No, keep it. People pay to watch you, not me."

"So is that a yes?"

He exhaled a deep breath. "...yeah?"

It was really happening. Before he could regret his decision, you quickly reached for his hand and guided him to your room. He followed you quietly, and when you pulled him in, his eyes swept across your personal space, taking in the predominant color palette of pink that seemed to envelop the space with a cozy, feminine charm.

The heart of your room was undoubtedly your computer setup, strategically placed directly in front of your bed. There was a small camera perched on top of the screen and a professional mic placed to the side, and to be completely honest, the sight of everything was starting to intimidate him.

"I need to tell you something," he softly began. "This is my first time doing this."

You gently squeezed his hand. "I'd be surprised if you've ever done this before. You're not even on social media."

"No, I mean—" He turned you around to face him. "I've never touched someone... intimately."

"Really?" Your eyes shot up as you noticed the way he emphasized the word. "Wait, Spencer... are you a virgin?"

There was a pause as he searched your eyes hesitantly. "Does it make me weird if I told you I am?"

Somehow that didn't surprise you, since you never actually saw him taking an interest in relationships, so your response was swift. "No. You're always weird regardless," you quipped, dissipating the tension with a teasing grin. "I'm kidding."

He smiled, although his question still lingered in the air, and he shifted the focus back to you again. "Do you still want me here?"

"I should be asking you that question, silly. Are you fine with all this?"

To your surprise, his response was affirmative. "Surprisingly, yes, I am."

"Then there's nothing to worry about."

He still looked nervous though, and without putting much thought into it, you closed the distance and stood on your tiptoes. Your hands softly held his jaw, and the moment you pressed your lips onto his, a sound of satisfaction erupted from his chest.

You sighed in contentment as you felt his hands sliding around your waist, holding you closer as you moved your lips against his. The kiss was slow and lazy, yet the sensation of it traveled along your body, leaving you almost breathless as you felt his tongue teasing your entrance. A moan slipped out of you as you buried your hands in his hair, tugging onto the strands desperately as your tongues collided with one another in a delicate trance.

Your lips on his were hot, soft, settling, and wet, pulling onto each other for more and when you finally stopped, his eyes were closed, heavily exhaling, his hair ruffled, and he looked like the prettiest mess ever.

"W- What was that for?" He whispered, still in his dazed state.

"Setting the mood." You slowly pulled away and walked over to your bed, sitting at the edge of it, positioning yourself back in front of your computer. "For someone who has never had sex, you sure know how to kiss."

He collected himself and looked at you as if you had offended him. "I've kissed other people before."

"I can tell." You then narrowed your eyes at him. "Alright, you ready?"

"I..." He took a tentative step forward. "I think so."

With practiced efficiency, you started up the stream again. The moment you turned on your microphone and camera, almost immediately, comments began flooding in. The chat scrolled rapidly. You let a mischievous smile tug at the corner of your lips as your eyes flicked to the monitor.

"Hey, everyone, sorry for leaving you so suddenly. But I guess this is your lucky day... because I have someone joining me tonight!" A chorus of excited responses flooded the chatroom and you giggled at the enthusiasm they were giving you. "Oh my, didn't know you guys really wanted a guest over here."

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Easy money, you thought to yourself, and by the way Spencer's eyes went wide, he also caught the amount of money sent to you when you were barely doing anything. "They give you that much for saying that?"

You couldn't help but laugh at his innocence. "Spe—" You stopped as his name almost slipped out your mouth. You cleared your throat and quickly corrected yourself. "Babe, they can hear you."

The pale complexion of his skin accentuated the subtle blush that tinged his cheeks, a result of either your affectionate tone or his embarrassment over his unfamiliarity with the situation. "Oh." He stared at your computer screen with uncertainty, his gaze filled with hesitation. "Right."

You urged him to come closer with your hand. "Come here, pretty boy."

He cast a fleeting glance in your direction, prompting an eye-roll as you observed his clumsy approach towards you. You eyed the camera and addressed your audience, "He's a little shy, please be nice to him."

As soon as he entered the camera frame, the comments section buzzed with curiosity. Many viewers wondered about the identity of this mysterious man, who happened to appear just as someone questioned a potential guest on the stream. Most of the other comments were positive, stating how excited they were, but a few of them disturbed you when they mentioned Spencer's physical appearance and how 'this fucking twig' didn't deserve to touch you.

You quickly guided your mouse to block them.

"I told you to be nice," you emphasized, your voice carrying a subtle edge. "I don't tolerate any form of harassment."

Spencer, seemingly oblivious, frowned at you. "What did you do?"

"Kicking disrespectful people out," you answered for him. Then, directing your attention towards him, you rose from your bed and gestured to the empty space. "Sit here."

He followed your instructions, settling onto the soft mattress as you adjusted your camera at a lower angle, making sure his face remained hidden from view. When you were satisfied, you instructed him to scoot back, which he happily obliged, because how couldn't he? He was captivated by what was happening.

Spencer never thought he would have his lower half on display—albeit still fully clothed—in front of thousands of people online. Yet here he was, sitting right in front of a camera, watching you as you slipped your knee between his thighs, urging him to part his legs. Nervous energy pulsed through him as he found himself in such close proximity to you, especially when you started to kneel right between him, clutching his shoulders as you steadied yourself.

"Someone dared me to show my cute panties," you mused, and even when you were addressing yourself to the stream, your eyes were locked with his. "Help me show them, babe."

His heart quickened as he looked up at you. "W-what do I do?"

You smiled at him and leaned down, pressing your lips against the shell of his ear, making sure he was the only one to hear you as you whispered, "Play with my ass, Spencer."

His breathing became shallow and erratic. He slowly reached out and put his wide hands on your hips before sliding them along your ass cheeks. He gently kneaded them, squeezing them with the utmost delicacy as if he was holding himself back.

Spencer had always been a gentle person, it was a fundamental aspect of his character, something he had known from the depths of his being. You liked that about him, it differentiated him from all the men you had ever been with. But right now you needed him to touch you with the same urgency you craved. You needed him to let go.

"You can do better than that, pretty boy," you pressed on, brushing your lips along his jawline. "Show the audience what they want."

Something in him switched at that moment. Maybe it was the way you were kissing down his neck. Or maybe it was the way you were pressed against him. Whatever it was, he suddenly felt less inclined to be gentle and, instead, he gripped onto your cheeks with more power. He squeezed them, holding your flesh with so much vigor that you had to hold onto him, burying your face in his neck.

He glanced past your shoulder and caught your reflection. He couldn't believe those were his hands on the screen; touching you, teasing you, pleasing you. You were definitely pleased with the way you kept on squirming against him. It mesmerized him how much you were responding to his simple touch, and now when he knew he could make you sigh in pleasure, he wondered how much more you could react the more he touched you.

Spencer pressed his hands at the back of your thighs before trailing them up your legs. He paused for a moment, hearing the way your breath quickened with anticipation, and smiled to himself when you let out a whimper as he squeezed your flesh again. The hem of your lingerie rode up your hips every time he moved, and your laced panties, with their fabric barely covering your already wet sex, were on display for the audience to see.

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He cocked an eyebrow, fascinated by how showing a little skin could earn you money. Curiosity took over him, and he let his fingers trail between your flesh before spreading them apart, showing off your wet patch to the camera. You arched your back, pressing your lips into his neck again as your arousal shot through your veins before it pooled right in your center.

Princess.no1.fan sent you a $100 gift

Interesting, Spencer thought, and slipped his fingers between the soft material of your panties before sliding it to the side, exposing your wet skin. His eyes shot up when someone gifted you another hundred dollars, and without much thinking, he brushed the pad of his fingers along your folds, loving the way you whined out a desperate moan right into his ear.

"You're doing great, baby," you told him breathlessly. Hearing your encouragement only made him want to please you even more. He let his middle finger glide along your dripping pussy, mesmerized at how wet you were, and braved himself as he slowly pushed his finger inside you.

He couldn't stop the sound of pleasure erupting from his chest when you squeezed around him. You were so wet, so warm, so incredibly tight. He thrust his finger in and out of you and you mewled, arching your back, grinding your hips toward his touch. And just as you were about to relish the sensation, he abruptly pulled his finger out of you and held you by the hips, gently pushing you off of him.

"Somebody dared you to turn around," he said, licking his lips as his eyes trailed along the front of your body, stopping right at your cleavage.

You smiled, amused that he was actually reading along the comments while touching you. Without saying a word, you got off the bed, your back still facing the camera. Your hands gently slid up your lingerie and you tugged on your panties down your legs, not forgetting to arch your back while doing so, making sure the camera captured the soft curves of your ass.

Spencer watched you intently. He watched the way your body swayed from each movement, appraising the swell of your breasts and the way your nipples pressed against the thin material of your lingerie, slightly teasing him behind the see-through lace. His eyes skimmed along your neck, stopping at your face, taking in the way you were looking at him with half-lidded eyes.

You were so beautiful. His fingers moved almost of their own accord, reaching out as if guided by some unseen force, wanting to touch you further. He rested a hand on your hip while his other hand slipped behind your neck, pulling you closer as he slightly reached out, meeting you halfway in a soft, enchanting kiss.

You melted right into him. His unexpected kiss threw you off as you weren't prepared for how passionate he was exploring your mouth; nipping your bottom lip, softly sucking the flesh as he pushed his tongue into you. He was kissing you as if he couldn't get enough of you, as if the first time he tasted you ignited the passion within him, forcing yourself to surrender to his touch.

As much as you wanted it to last, you pulled away, pressing your forehead against his, completely breathless as if the sheer magnitude of his kiss had stolen the very air from your lungs. "We should... we should keep the show going."

Your words reminded him that you were still being watched. "...Right."

Finally pulling away from him, you turned around and faced your monitor, reading along the comments on the screen. Although the camera didn't capture your kiss, the intimate atmosphere was unmistakable, and many of your followers began speculating about the identity of this mysterious man. They raised questions, even going so far as to wonder if he was your boyfriend.

How you wished that was true.

You shook your head and focused on the other comments, picking up the ones where they were throwing you some dares. One of them insisted for you to spread your legs in front of the camera which was honestly something you plan to do anyway.

So you sat between his legs, pressing your backside against his crotch, and stifled a moan when you felt his cock pressing into you. You could tell how hard he was, how aroused he seemed just by touching you. It was undeniably satisfying to be the one who had evoked such a response from him.

You leaned on his chest, placing your head right in the crook of his neck, and slowly spread your legs apart, finally exposing your flesh. Spencer could feel his slacks tightening, feeling himself going hard at the sight of you. The soft, ambient light in the room played a delicate dance upon your wet skin, accentuating its flawless smoothness. He also realized he wasn't the only one mesmerized by you, the chatroom also seemed to be buzzing with excitement.

Horny_BBC: sweet fucking pussy Horny_BBC: dripping wet JadenCums: holy shit I need to fuck you Pussylicker sent a $100 gift Prince_Casper: I dare you to finger her tight little pussy pretty boy

"I think they dared you to do something, baby," you mentioned, arching your back and spreading your legs wider. But Spencer's attention was somewhere else, most precisely, on your chest. Your nipples were begging for attention and he couldn't help but reach out his hands over the swell of your breasts. He gave them both a gentle, appreciative squeeze, admiring the way they looked in his hands.

"Babe," you whispered, your voice almost coming out as a whimper. "T- That's not what they want."

"But it's what I want," he said absentmindedly, too focused on watching the way his large hands covered your breasts. "They can wait a little longer."

His hands then moved to tug down the straps of your lingerie, your breasts spilling out from the sheer lace material and he groaned at the sight. "You're beautiful," he praised you, earning a soft blush along your cheeks. He palmed them again, watching the fleshy, supple skin contort around his touch. "No wonder everyone loves seeing your body."

Your breath quickened as you felt the sensations intensify, pleasure coursing through your body. "Are you sure you've never touched anyone before?"

He hummed a reply as he pinched your nipples between the calloused pads of his fingers, tugging them from your body as he cherished the gasp that left your lips. Letting go as he watched your breast bounce at the motion before repeating the action, wanting to pull more of those noises from your pretty lips. His eyes glanced over to the screen and smiled in satisfaction when your subscribers gifted you again.

"See? They like these as much as I do," he mentioned, giving your breasts a final squeeze before down your stomach, across the dip of your navel, up and down the thickness of your thighs until he stopped between your legs. Fingers lathered down your slit, feathering at your folds and experimentally teasing around your entrance. He watched himself as he pressed onto your pussy lips, spreading them apart for your viewers to see.

This position wasn't unfamiliar to you, you had spread your legs for the camera countless times, but to have another person touching you overwhelmed you in a way you didn't know possible. And when you thought you couldn't take more of the pleasure building up in your body, he proved you wrong by pressing a finger right onto your clit, making circular motions right on top of it.

You couldn't help but let out a moan louder than you intended to. "Babe..."

You gave into the sensation, watching as his fingers continued their exploration. You could already feel him harden with each steady, rhythmic beat of his heart while his fingers explored you, collecting the slick of your arousal before spreading it along your folds.

Hardcock69: fuck her with your fingers Hardcock69: ruin that sweet little pussy

Spencer didn't have to be asked twice, sliding his middle finger into you. You let out a gasp. "Fuck, baby..." Your eyes were transfixed on the screen as you watched the way his hand flexed, slowly pumping his finger in and out of you before adding another one, stretching your inner walls.

You whimpered as he began to thrust into you and your body jerked involuntarily. Your room was quickly filled with the lewd sound of his fingers plunging in and out of you as he kept a steady pace, fingers rutting into your tight hole, your slick inner walls clenching around him with each thrust. He watched your reflection on screen with curious eyes, catching the way your breath hitched and the way your lips fell split.

His fingers were long and thick, dragging along your walls. The moment of gentleness was suddenly gone when he picked up the pace. The speed turned into a ferocious one as if he was trying to reach deep inside of you and force something out. A reaction. He wanted to force another reaction out of you, more than you were giving to him now.

"That's it—fuck." You gasped, feeling that familiar coil in your stomach. "Don't stop. Don't fucking stop."

He curled his fingers inside of you, making your body jolt. He pressed the palm of his hand on your clit, and with every thrust, his skin rubbed against it. Your hips jerked against him again as a tiny moan escaped your lips, your head slumping against his shoulder.

"Faster," you managed to squeak. "I-I'm close."

Who was he to disobey your wishes? He obliged to your needs and pumped his fingers in a mind-numbing speed. The intensity made it hard for you to think, your body trembling as you felt the coil inside you tighten desperately.

A guttural whine left your lips as he began to pump his digits in and out of your sloppy pussy, focusing on the same spot inside of you with each flick of his wrist. Your mouth parted in a squeal as your toes curled, the soles of your feet digging into your mattress as he continued to thrust his fingers inside you, helping you to ride out your release.

Maybe it was the inexperience of sex, the way he had never seen a woman come undone right before him, that piqued his curiosity. It was his first time, and he found himself irresistibly drawn to the unknown, his eagerness to explore and understand the human body, especially your body. Every sensation, every moment, was tinged with the exhilaration of discovery, which led him to continue rocking his fingers into you, not slowing down even when you were a whining mess.

"Baby..." you whimpered. "W-What are you doing?"

Adam_4432: fuck her again Pussylicker: keep going pretty boy Pussylicker: don't stop even if she begs you to Pussylicker sent you a $200 gift

A new surge of pleasure engulfed you, a sensation unlike before. It coursed through your veins like a sweet, intoxicating elixir, so utterly consuming. Your hands clutched at the bedsheets, kneading them between your fingers as you felt this unusual sensation creep up on your lower half. It became so overwhelming your body was trying to ignore it, your eyes clenching shut as his fingers continued to pump into you.

"Oh, shit," You gasped. "I-I can't—"

Spencer's eyes flickered between the comments telling him not to stop and the way your body trembled in his arms. His free arm slid around your waist, pulling him into his chest as he gently whispered, "Do you want me to stop?"

Your lack of an answer was enough for him to keep going, digging his fingers deeper inside you, pressing onto that same spot repeatedly. He felt you shaking again, noticing the way your mouth fell apart as you gasped for air.

"I got you," he said softly, his eyes trailing down your body and his fingers between your legs. "Breathe," he instructed, slightly pausing when you clenched around him.

"N-No, don't stop," you begged him. "I can take it."

He curled his fingers again and you arched your back, hips bucking against his hand. "Oh god," you cried out, your voice sounding a little raw. "That's it—fuck, I'm gonna cum again."

He started to speed up, a sound of pleasure leaving his lips when your pussy started to squelch. It didn't take long for you to reach your second high as he doubled his movement, thrusting into you faster. You were shaking uncontrollably, and as you were about to calm your breathing from the overwhelming pleasure, another sensation burned between your legs.

You tipped your head back as it traveled along your body, clamping your thighs together only for him to push them apart again with his other hand. Every touch from him sent shockwaves of ecstasy, making your limbs quiver and your breath hitch. The sensation was so consuming that it turned your thoughts into a mushy, incoherent whirlwind, rendering your mind of rational thoughts.

"F-fuck, fuck, fuck," you cried out. The intensity of it overwhelmed you to the point your tears began to flow. "R-right there—"

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Your body trembled uncontrollably, each shiver echoing the overpowering sensations that consumed you, and you couldn't hold it anymore. A harsh whine was torn from your lips as your release rippled through you. You gasped as your cunt began to convulse, a clear stream of liquid gushing from between your thighs as you cried out, "Spe—"

Spencer grunted as he clamped your mouth with his free hand, stopping you from calling out his name. He quickly pulled his hand and rubbed your clit furiously as he tried to coax more of the liquid from your convulsing body. Your body quivered as his meticulous touch kept you teetering on your high, the pleasure flowing through you as you continued to come undone.

He watched as your chest rose up and down, your perky breasts moving every time you tried to calm your breathing. Your body was still shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm, but you didn't want your viewers to see you in your most vulnerable state, at least not now when you were still trying to comprehend what just happened. So you sat up and quickly turned off your stream before you glanced at your drenched sheets and the mess you splattered across your desk.

“I- I’ve never—” You were shocked, the sensation completely new to you. "That... that never happened to me before."

You could hear the triumph in his voice as he replied, "Really?"

You were torn between amusement at his gloating and embarrassment at your own overwhelming experience. You turned your head to see him sitting there, grinning sheepishly at you. Your eyes flickered between his legs, noticing the outline of his cock pressing against his pants, and even by the shadow of it, you could tell his size was bigger than you anticipated. 

It didn't take long for you to make a move, really, because he was staring at you with doe eyes filled with lust and you couldn't stop yourself from climbing onto his lap, earning a moan from his lips as you settled right on top of his cock. Your wetness covered him and it took a lot of self-control for him not to pounce at you right at this moment.

"Hey, Spence?" Your voice was sweet, the tone of it reminded him of the way you had asked him to join you when you both stood in the kitchen. His ears perked up as he held you by your waist.

"Yeah?"

You smiled down at him. 

"What do you think about losing your virginity?"

He had never agreed to anything so fast in his life.

[smutoperator]

Bad Girl, Good Girl

Bae Suzy/Lee Doona, Nakamura Kazuha x Male Reader

Part of Legends series

Tags: all holes filled, alter ego, anal, choking, creampies, crush, domination, (a bit of) facefucking, k-drama references, lookalike, morning sex, older/younger, peeing, rimming, rough sex, (a bit of) shower sex, (lots of) slapping, threesome, toilet dunking

Word count: 7318.

After your first year in university, you had enough of commuting every day to college, deciding to move to a new flat close to it. However, you had forgotten the password the landlord had given you, drawing the suspicion of an older woman who was already living there.

"Who are you?" the woman asks as she's smoking a cigarette and sees you typing the wrong password. "Sorry, I just moved here, but I can't seem to remember the password," you told her. "Here is my rental agreement", you said, giving her proof you weren't some random stranger.

The woman noticed your t-shirt. "The girl in it is so pretty," she said, pointing to Bae Suzy, the very famous idol and actress. "Yes, I love her," you replied. She then picked up the password in her phone and let you in.

"My name is Doona; I've been living here for a while," the woman told you. "Nice to meet you, Doona; I am Won Jun," you replied to her. "Just be aware of the rules of the house; I won't bother you as long as you keep things to yourself," she told you.

You started settling things down in your bedroom but were already plotting to break those rules. Indeed, you were quite a party animal and not very rule-abiding, as you were already texting your college crush to meet you at your new home.

A few hours later, Doona noticed the noise coming from the kitchen in the common area that interrupted her sleep. A few groans, moans, and sloppy sounds that she could hear loud and clear. She slowly got closer, until she was finally able to look at a shocking scene: a long-legged girl on her knees with her perfectly shaped butt already out in the open and sucking your cock.

"Oh my God, Doona, what are you doing?" you asked her. "You really didn't respect my rules," she angrily pointed at you. "I'm sorry," you told her. "Damn it, you guys are all the same, always partying and bringing girls to my house," she said. "That's not your house, Doona," you tried to remind her.

Doona looked at the young girl on her knees. For the first time in a while, she felt jealous. The girl truly looked like a taller, younger version of herself. She made Doona feel old. But the older girl quickly decided to show her who was the one in command.

"You're sucking his cock the wrong way; let me show you how it's done," Doona said to the girl. "By the way, what is your name?" she asked. "Kazuha," the girl answered.

Doona grabbed your cock with just one hand and slowly started going down on it. You could tell she was way more experienced than Kazuha, sucking it without using her teeth, unlike the young girl. Kazuha felt a little embarrassed, just licking your shaft instead when Doona handed her the cock. As she slowly gained confidence to suck your cock the right way, Doona started taking her clothes off already, leaving her legs bare to match with Kazuha.

Doona watched Kazuha go down on your as she caressed your balls and kissed you. Your hands reached on both sides and ran over their naked butts. Kazuha licked your cock while Doona tasted the tip of it, then the young girl stroked and while Doona slowly bobbed her head on it. The double blowjob session kept going, now with Zuha taking your shaft in her mouth as Doona licked your balls.

"Fuck, that's amazing," you said as both girls fought for your attention. They were like an angel and a devil. The young, still learning Kazuha, the good girl. And the very experienced Doona, with her masterful skills, the bad girl. She truly sucked your cock masterfully, getting sloppier as you looked eye to eye on Kazuha and smiled at your crush.

Kazuha tried to imitate the moves of Doona during her turns sucking your cock. The older girl looked at her, and her eyes told Kazuha she was doing it right. Doona licked your balls perfectly while Kazuha kept savoring your pole. "Oh wow," you said as the two hit the right spots.

Doona gave you a no-hands deepthroat that sent shivers down your spine. If Kazuha wasn't exactly the best college student, she was actually learning quite well from the girl that looked like her older self, matching Doona's moves to perfection while trying a few extra ones. 

You truly felt like a boss with two beautiful girls worshipping your cock on their knees. "That's fucking hot," you said as both licked your meat at the same time. The two kept going until Doona whispered a few words in Kazuha's ear.

"Be a bad girl and sit on his cock."

Kazuha obliged and lined up your shaft against her pussy, slowly impaling herself on it as your manhood disappeared inside her and her fit ass dropped down your crotch. Eager to watch, Doona sat on your face and looked right at the youngster as Kazuha slowly started to bounce on your pole, taking some time to adjust as this was the first time you two had sex, all thanks to Doona.

You truly couldn't have dreamed of something better than this. Your crush was riding your cock while Doona's pussy was right in your face for you to lick. A truly amazing experience. You gave a little slap to Kazuha's fit butt, telling her to go faster, while Doona was already creaming your face full of her juices. She lowered her dress, pushing Kazuha to suck her tits and helping the youngster deal with the heat of your cock in her pussy, as she could clearly tell she was struggling with such a big dick.

Kazuha tilted her body and moaned as you reached to rub her asshole. She finally felt safe enough to bounce faster on your cock, and you responded by thrusting upwards towards her tight hole, making the old couch creak. But Kazuha quickly managed to reassure herself, spreading her ass and learning the right way to ride your pole while her pussy creamed all over it.

"How does that feel?" you asked Doona as you kept licking her juicy pussy. "Really good; I guess you're making it up well for breaking the rules," she answered. Doona had such a good slit, with lips that fit perfectly in your mouth. One that you couldn't wait to get inside of too, as you could feel how warm it was.

You grabbed Kazuha's waist and thrust upwards, leading the young girl to let out loud moans. Doona looked at her, as Zuha could tell she was instructing her on how to deal with it. You kept licking Doona's cunt while pounding Kazuha's, getting more and more enamored with it, sticking her tongue deep in her folds in sync with your cock, reaching all the way deep into Kazuha's cervix.

Kazuha got pounded harder and harder, making Doona a bit jealous as she started to crave for your cock. The young girl could barely stay on her feet as she looked at Doona for more instructions, but this time, the noona left her on her own. Her ass getting spanked, her pussy destroyed. It was the perfect initiation for Zuha.

You carried Zuha up while keeping your cock inside her pussy. Doona looked at the scene and smiled, watching you passionately carry fuck Kazuha as she kept moaning and your hips made loud noise every time they thrust into her. Kazuha clinged to you until you gave her a final spank, telling her to drop to her knees and taste herself while you kissed a now completely naked Doona, who was ready to go next.

Thanks to Zuha's quick blowjob, your cock easily slid inside Doona's pussy. But as soon as it did, she quickly tightened it up. You quickly responded, carrying her slim body up while sucking her perky tits as Kazuha dove between your legs and licked your balls while you adjusted your cock inside Doona's cunt.

"Stay right there. I got you, and I'm gonna fuck that pussy good," you told a smiling Doona, who enjoyed having her body lifted up in the air. You bounced Doona's smile against your cock as she laughed and moaned, feeling a tingling sensation she hadn't in a long time.

"Now I want you to take control and teach Zuha how to ride a cock properly," you told Doona after you put her body back on the ground. She quickly obliged, sliding it back inside in reverse cowgirl to give Zuha a perfect view of it. "Oh shit," you said as Doona's walls quickly wrapped around your cock.

But her pussy was so enticing you quickly forgot your words, thrusting into it as soon as she finished going all the way down your shaft. Doona just watched as your cock bulged under her belly, and Zuha took some time to relax, passionately kissing you.

"Wow, that's such a perfect cock," Doona said in between moans, caressing your balls as you pound her. "Keep going, that's so good," she continued, slowly losing her breath as your manhood made her pussy burn. And things were about to get even better, with Kazuha sitting her fat ass in your face and offering her pounded pussy for you to lick.

Doona took advantage of your distraction with Kazuha and started bouncing on your cock. You spanked and grabbed her pale, bouncy ass, which moved perfectly on your dick. "That's it," you told her in between more slaps, as her ass jiggled each time it went down, while Kazuha buried your face completely with her big ass.

To avoid their bouncy asses leading you to cum too early, you decided to cut their fun, putting both girls on the kitchen's stools. You stripped Kazuha fully naked, matching her with Doona. She sat her fat ass on the stool and opened her long legs for you to penetrate her again under Doona's watchful eye, quickly increasing the pace and making her struggle with your cock deep in her cunt, with Kazuha fingering herself and having Doona lick one of her feet as her pussy got pounded harder and harder.

"I'm gonna cum baby, ahhhh," Kazuha said in a cute manner, driving you feral as you hit the perfect spots in her pussy. Doona just watched in awe. It wasn't the first time she saw one of her threesome partners get leveled like that, but with just a stool as a support it might have been. Next time her best friend Nana comes to town, she'll make sure both try it.

Kazuha cums as you fuck her like an animal. It's now Doona's turn, and she can't wait, opening her legs as soon as you turn your attention to her. You rub your cock against her pussy and then kiss it, worshipping it like you are about to fuck a goddess, all that while Doona gives you a sexy stare.

Doona drops her head down as your cock has a difficult time getting deep in her pussy. She's really too tight for you to handle, leading you to take it slow, more so as her pussy-fingering makes her walls clench even further. You and Kazuha share kisses as you try to get deeper into Doona's pussy. "Does that feel good?" your crush asks. "It feels amazing," you answer her.

"Your pussy is so good," you tell Doona, rising up to the task of giving it the fucking it deserves. "Then fuck it like your life depends on it," Doona says, slowly riding herself into an orgasm as you increase your pace. You just decide to carry her once again, taking her to your bedroom as Kazuha walks alongside you.

You drop Doona into your bed and passionately fuck her under Kazuha's watch. The young girl seems to be enjoying watching it as she masturbates herself, but also feels a little jealous by all the love you start giving to Doona, kissing her and whispering words in her ear as if you're ready to get out of this bed and marry her the next day.

Kazuha fingers her pussy harder as you fuck Doona in a hot missionary love-making position. The older woman moans beautifully. She never told you about her job, but you wonder if she might be a singer because her moans are truly music to your ears. "Yes, keep going, ahhhh, ahhhhh," she moans as the bed starts creaking with your hard but very passionate pumps. Doona closes her eyes and just lets your cock stretch her pussy out, putting her under your complete submission as your balls smack agains her pale skin.

You bring Kazuha next as she smiles. Doona comes closer and watches you tell your crush what you did to her, all that while you bring Doona's body closer to the scene to eat her goddess-like pussy while you fuck Kazuha's and turn the younger girl into a submissive moaning mess, ruthelessly pounding her babyhole on a hardcore mating press under Doona's watch.

Doona turns around and gets herself on all fours, putting her ass close to your face and offering you both her fuckholes to lick while you stay fucking Kazuha. You happily seize the opportunity, matching your thrusting against your personal fucktoy Kazuha with the lickings you give to Doona's pussy and asshole.

Kazuha keeps getting pounded hard as you feel like you need to quell her jealousy over your latest round with Doona. These two girls are at the mercy of your cock, but you're also at their mercy, knowing that you need to show them a lot of love and fuck them good if you want to keep a good relationship with both.

After 10 long minutes of lovemaking with Zuha, you bring her to clean your cock from her own mess. Doona comes from behind and starts licking your asshole. You truly didn't know such a cute girl like her could be nasty too. "Ohhhh fuck," you say as Kazuha throats your cock while Doona tongues deep in your anus at the same time and then reaches under to stoke your shaft and caress your balls. The girls stay that way for a long while, as Kazuha has a long way to go before cleaning your cock while Doona shows she's a nasty girl who loves dirty assholes.

"Both of you, bend over," you tell the girls. Doona's cutely shaped ass contrasts with Zuha's fit butt. You lick both their pussies, starting with Doona's. Zuha quickly drops down and gets her ass spanked. You eat them out like the two perfect godesses that they are and then go back to fuck Doona once again.

"Fuck your pussy is so tight, and it only gets tighter," you tell Doona, who looks at herself in the mirror as you fuck her and finger Zuha's pussy. "That's it, baby," you tell Doona, who looks at Kazuha and loves the way the youngster is smiling while she gets stuffed full of cock.

Doona gets railed harder, her moans getting louder, and her ass getting more and more spanked. You move into a prone-bone position while Zuha flips around and flashes you her pussy for you to keep sucking it while you bury your cock deep inside Doona. "Seems like he loves multitasking," Kazuha says as she caresses your head and moves it closer to her pussy, while Doona smiles, before it goes away and gets replaced by more moans as you attack her pussy with your cock and Zuha's with your mouth.

Each thrust you give Doona sends her closer and closer to the heavens as you use her pussy so hard she can barely feel her legs at this point, numb by the amount of cock she has taken inside of her. But you just don't seem to stop; her tight pink pussy is just too good, and so is Zuha's within your range for more fingering and licking. These girls are made to be worshipped and fucked, and you'll do it as long as you have the stamina.

"Let's switch girls, turn your pussy this way," you tell Zuha, repeating the same position you did to Doona, prone boning the young girl as you eat Doona out. Kazuha seems to struggle hard, as you attack her cunt even harder when you do Doona's, testing her to the maximum. She moves her hips and meets your thrusts halfway, using her big ass like a pillow to dissipate the impact of your cock in her pussy, but you quickly tame the good girl and take control of her, enjoying the wet and clapping sounds coming out of her cunt every time you reach the depths of each, with Doona fingering herself heavily entertained with the scene and enjoying the way, and you obliterate Zuha's pussy nonstop in a perfect rhythm.

Kazuha quickly starts to tap out, and you show endless strength to pound her while giving sexy stares to Doona. Her ass gets spanked, and she gets weaker and weaker to resist your endless fucking. "Don't move, stay right there," you tell as she can't barely move. Meanwhile, you flip Doona around and get ready for another round of passionate lovemaking, all that while you and Zuha kiss each other, and she looks at Doona being pounded and smiles, watching the older girl taste the same medicine she just did.

Doona receives some bed-breaking sex, wrapping her legs around you as you just can't stop fucking her. Indeed, her pussy is like a drug to you now. You seem to have finally unleashed your inner beast and seize the opportunity of taking these two fuckdolls to the fullest. Your thursts are now so fast and powerful Doona can't even react, just cumming all over your cock as you plow into her on an animalesque mating press that makes her reach multiple orgasms for the first time in many years, your balls making loud clapping noises against her cheeks while the bed's creaking gets even louder.

You switch from Doona to Zuha, sticking your cock in your crush's pussy as it disappears right under her big ass. Doona takes a deep breath and masturbates herself watching you drill your crush. Kazuha struggles, already overwhelmed by taking so much cock over the past 40 minutes. But you just don't stop, entertaining Doona as you mount completely on top of Zuha and clap her cheeks hard, putting Zuha at total submission and smashing her cunt harder and harder.

Zuha can only helplessly moan as you absolutely show no mercy to her pussy, turning her into your personal fleshlight and asserting your dominance over her under Doona's watch. It doesn't take long until you fill your crush's pussy to the brim, pushing your seeds all the way deep into Kazuha's tight young hole. 

"OH FUCK!" you scream as you pull out of Zuha's pussy and open it up for Doona to lick your cum oozing out from it. "Shake that ass and show me how much you loved getting filled with my cum" you tell Kazuha, who smiles and happily does it. After they swap your seeds with each other, you kiss both girls and thank them for the night. "Did you two have fun?" you ask. "Definitely," Doona replies. "You fucked me so good," Kazuha then said. "I had a lot of fun too, we need to do that again," you say as the girls leave, Zuha back to her home and Doona back to her bedroom.

You wake up the next day and go to the kitchen, where you find Doona making breakfast while wearing nothing.

"What are you looking at?" she asks. "Have you never seen a naked woman before in your life? I'm pretty sure you saw two just yesterday," she continues. "Sorry, I felt a little embarrassed," you tell her.

"Embarassed from what? You just saw me like that yesterday," Doona giggled. "By the way, today is my birthday," she continued. "Then, happy birthday," you replied back.

"Not really; I need a gift only you can give me, and it's right between your legs," she tells you. "Well, I'm going back to my bedroom and will wait for you," Doona says.

You hesitate a bit, but after a few minutes, find your way into Doona's bedroom. She wraps herself in her blanket, pretending to be sleeping. You take a peek through it, right where her pussy is lying, fully shaved and waiting for you to fuck it again.

You run your hands through Doona's vagina, but she remains asleep; she truly must be a good actress to not feel anything from your touch. You take it slow, playing with your hands alongside her mound. You then take the upper part of her blanket and stare at her hardened, pierced nipples. Her body is truly perfect, but her face is even more beautiful. Unable to resist your perversions, you touch her breasts, but she remains unfazed.

You look at Doona's fully naked body lying in bed with awe, uncovering it completely, and running your hands in her ass now. She reacts and turns sideways, but still doesn't say a word. You place your thumb right at her butt crack and admire her pale ass, spreading it a bit to take a glimpse at her pink anus, then touching her pussy lips.

"Hey, Doona, hey, come on," you start calling for her, growing tired of her little sleeping beauty game. "Wake up, your gift is here, birthday girl," you tell her. "I'm so sleepy," she says to you. "Well, you can stay asleep while I play with you," you tell her.

You place your thumb right in Doona's pink butthole. "Wanna fuck it today?" she asks, as you then move it into her mouth for her to taste. "It's so dirty," she says. "But if you want to wake me up, you better give me some cock," Doona tells you.

"Looks like I have awakened the beauty as soon as we started talking about cock," you say, lying in Doona's bed. She smiles and crawls in your direction, going right at your pants. "What are you doing?" you ask her as she gets on top of you and starts rubbing her hands against your clothed manhood.

Doona teases you as she slowly rubs her clit lying in her bed. You come close to watch her performance, as then she uses her middle finger to shove it in her cunt. "Keep doing that; I love the way you touch yourself," you tell Doona, as you also give her boobs a little groping.

You choke Doona as she keeps masturbating herself. "You're such a fucking birthday slut," you tell her, giving her beautiful face a slap. "Look what you made me do yesterday; we and Kazuha weren't even planning to start dating yet; you made me cum deep in her pussy," you tell Doona.

"I didn't make you do anything; you're just a horny young boy who thinks with your cock. Which she was already sucking by the time I arrived. Right, Mr. . Won Jun?" Doona tells you the hard truth.

But you don't want to hear what she has to say and just keep slapping her model-esque face. She smiles every time you hit it. Maybe she's really taking some good acting classes, because you slap it hard yet she barely flinches.

"What do you do for your life, Doona?" you ask her. "Well, I was a singer for many years, but these days I want to be an actress," she answers, confirming your suspicions from the past couple days. "Then why did you move to a student flat?" you keep inquiring her. "Well, I didn't want the media to notice it," she says.

Then you ask her yet another question.

"Is Doona even your real name?"

"You searched who I was. That's funny because I was in your t-shirt all along and you didn't recognize me," Suzy answers.

"Well you looked a little different with bangs. So you are indeed the Bae Suzy, Korea's most beautiful face," you say to her.

"And by the way, you fucked me yesterday; I'm also Korea's tastiest pussy," she says, bragging about it.

"By the time I'm done with you, you'll also be Korea's biggest whore," you tell her.

"Maybe I'm already that," she says.

You take your pants off and feed your beautiful big cock to Suzy, who sucks it masterfully from the beginning. Her blowjob is very slow, but she knows where to suck and where to stroke at the right places. She then goes all the way down and gives you an amazing deepthroat. "THAT'S IT, YOU BAD GIRL!" you tell her as you sit on the bed, and she immediately crawls to rim your ass and put your balls in her mouth.

"Shit, you're such a fucking whore," you tell Suzy. "Yes, I am, and I love licking your balls and your dirty asshole," she says, entertaining herself with them. In fact, she's so good massaging your prostate you have to spank her ass to ask her to stop before she drives you insane.

You keep spanking Suzy's butt with your feet as she keeps her mouth now glued to your balls. You then stroke your cock and crush her sexy face between your legs, slapping your shaft against it before you free her to do what she pleases with it, as Suzh sucks and licks it like a maniac and makes your curse endlessly, then follows it with a couple more deepthroats.

"Get down, bitch," you say as you position Suzy's face in the perfect angle to start thrusting against it. "YEAH, THAT'S IT, BITCH," you tell her, using her pretty face to your pleasure, even sitting on top of it for her to lick your ass again, burying it full of cock. 

Suzy then turns around and puts her ass up, leading you to spank it even harder. "OH YEAH, OH MY GOD," she screams as your hands hit it heavily multiple times and then places your thumb in her anus. "Open it, bitch, I want to see that fucking asshole," she says as her ass crack closes between your hands.

Suzy quickly flips herself around and guides your cock into her pussy. "Oh my God, what a birthday gift for me," she says as it slowly makes its way inside her hole. You quickly pump it hard, just like yesterday, as she fingers her clit. "I want you to take this big cock all the way in," she begs.

You're in full control, pouding Suzy's cunt at will as she stays lying on the bed while you are on your feet, taking her from above. "It's so big, and it's stretching my pussy so fucking good, yeah," Suzy says as you slow down, grab her neck, and reassert your dominance over her.

"I want you to be an obedient good girl for my cock," you tell her, slapping Suzy once again. "OH YEAH," she answers as you pick the pace back up, now spanking her boobs as you thrust into her cunt. "Damn, that pussy gets even wetter when I smack your slutty body," you tell her.

"Tell me I'm your fucking whore; do whatever you want to me, as long as you give me that fucking cock," Suzy begs as you keep pounding her. "I love being slapped like that; please, baby, use me," she continues as she rubs her pussy and slowly starts cumming, closing her legs and eyes, and having herself a heavenly orgasm.

But you don't want Suzy to have that much fun already, switching positions to a hard spooning where you pound her hard while groping her bouncy tits. "That's what I want; use me like a fucking whore, choke me, and give me that birthday fucking I deserve," she tells you.

"OH MY GOD, YOU FUCK ME LIKE AN ANIMAL," Suzy moans as you attack her pussy even harder. You had already done that yesterday but in a more passionate manner; today, you'll be rough and use her like a bitch; after all, out of the 365 or 366 days of the year, only today is the birthday of the Bae Suzy, the it girl of all it girls.

"COME ON, BITCH, YOU'RE SUCH A BAD GIRL," you say as you pound Suzy and slap her back for a bit. You then stop and let her taste herself on your cock. "Stroke it, you fucking cunt," you tell her, lying on the bed as you let her have fun with your throbbing shaft and spit on it while using your feet to choke her and make it harder for Suzy. She gets more animalesque, getting out of it and giving you a sloppy blowjob. "OH FUCK," you groan as your cock reaches the depths of her throat.

Suzy climbs on top of you and impales your massive cock back in her cunt, bouncing on it as she says dirty words to you. "Look how I ride this big fucking cock; I'm such a bad girl," she tells you.

You quickly put an end to Suzy's fun, pumping your cock upwards against her cunt and hitting her cervix. "Oh my God," she moans, but quickly regains control. You keep slapping her tits, trying to make her lose her cool, but Suzy stays composed and just smashes your cock like the good whore she is. 

"That's the way," you praise Suzy's riding skills as she now slowly grinds on your shaft. "It's so fucking good," she says as she enjoys it reaching the depths of her pussy, bouncing on it while licking your right foot. "You're such a whore, your sucking it like they are another dick, such a good girl," you tell Suzy, who puts all your toes in her mouth and keeps bouncing on your cock with ease regardless.

"That pussy is so wet," you tell Suzy as she stays using it to crush your cock. "And your cock feels so good in it, it's gonna make me cum again," she replies, rolling her eyes and enjoying it to the fullest.

You grab Suzy's neck as soon as she finishes her orgasm, but she grabs your shaft in retribution and strokes it mastefully. You punch back, hitting her in the face once more as you two duel to see who's the most animalesque person in that bed.

You get on top of Suzy and stick your cock from behind in her pussy. "I'm just your fucking slut," she says as you kiss her and she feels your shaft going back inside her. But she had stroked you so hard you were already throbbing, to the point that after just a few thrusts you were already on the edge. You pull her hair and use her like a fuckdoll, showing no restraint whatsoever. 

"Spread that ass; I'm gonna plow that fucking pussy until I cum inside it," you vow as you also penetrate Suzy's asshole with your thumb. "God, it's so fucking wet," you add. "Do it please, cum in my pussy just like you did to your girlfriend yesterday," Suzy demands.

Your thrusts come to a halt as you explode inside Suzy's perfect pussy. But you are far from done. In this morning, Suzy will be nothing but your cum dump, as you don't even let her taste the cum that flows out of her pussy, quickly turning her sideways and kissing her while slowly shoving your cock in the second prize of the day, her butthole.

"Ahhhh," Suzy moans as your big cock stretches her tiny anus. "You know, your girlfriend has a great ass; you could use some training with me to fuck hers next," Suzy tells you. "She's not my girlfriend," you argue with her. "Why, am I your girlfriend now, you cheater?" she asks.

"No, you're just a whore, and in a few minutes you'll literally be a sore ass whore," you tell her. But you started rather gently, seeing that her tight asshole won't give up easily, trying to get accostummed to an even tighter hole than her already tight pussy.

Suzy fingers herself, and you two keep sharing kisses as your cock slowly digs deeper in her asshole. You wrap your arms around her and start giving her butt a couple pumps, kissing her in the meantime. "OH MY GOD, YOU'RE SO BIG IN MY ASS," she tells you.

Suzy struggles with your cock in her ass; it's been a long time since she's been fucked in the butt, but you manage to slowly ease her into it, going very slowly and passionately wrapping her around your arms. She moans as you put more and more heat inside it. "Fuck, it's so big," is all she can say. You finally give her harder pumps, trying to make her adjust through the pain. She screams, but you just don't care and cover her mouth. "Shut up, you fucking whore," you say to her, relentlessly pounding her butthole.

"I love that," Suzy says. Sometimes, pain is the best way to reach a goal, and she confirms it. You keep going, kisses at the top, poundings at the bottom. You make her tits jiggle and bring her to submission, thrusting as hard as you can in that whore. But you can also be kind and slow down to kiss her from time to time.

Suzy sits on your cock and tries to ride it anally, but you don't let her, pounding her ass as soon as she attempts to make a move. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD," she screams, fingering her pussy to cope with the heat you put in her ass, squirting a bit.

But you're so controlling you don't even let Suzy do it, placing your own hands in her cunt while manhandling her butt. "GOD, YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME FUCKING CUM AGAIN, FUCKKKKKKK,"  Suzy screams while sirens of a police car pass through the street, making her get quiet for a bit to not get noticed before going back to plead to God at each pump you give her ass.

"OH FUCKKKKKK!" Suzy screams again as you pull out of her and let her taste her butthole; she seizes the opportunity and sucks your cock like a maniac. "Lick my ass again," you tell her, who quickly obliges and then moves up to your balls and later your whole shaft, showcasing her cock-addicted spirit.

"God damn it, Suzy, you really know how to lick a man's ass," you tell her. "And I know how to suck a man's big fat cock even better," she says, moving up and giving you yet another deepthroat, which you make sure to last as long as possible, putting your legs over her head and pushing it to your shaft, with Suzy only pulling out when she's completely out of air.

Suzy twists your pole and throats your shaft hard, quickly recovering. "Damn, this fucking cock is so good; this is the best birthday ever," she tells you before going on another deepthroat. "You could make it better by giving me that asshole once again and sitting on it," you reply.

Suzy obliges and quickly moves to get on top of you. "Oh fuck," she says, rolling her eyes as your massive pole impales her butthole. She takes it slow, baffled with how huge your cock is. Slowly increasing the pace, she put her fingers in her pussy and used them to fuck herself. Finally finding the rytym, Suzy rides it as hard as she can.

"Keep going, baby, come on," you give Suzy words of incentive, and they work, her riding your cock perfectly and at full speed now. "That's how you do it, good girl, or should I say, bad girl?" you tell her as her hips hit yours and you love it. "Don't stop, baby; bounce on that cock like the fucking whore you are," you tell her.

Suzy giggles as she squirts on your face. "You made my pussy cum from my asshole," she says with a big smile in her face, burying your cock in her ass and staying with it inside her. The fucking was very intense, so she had to take a needed break, so you just pull out and let her suck it once more, letting Suzy show how crazy she is for cock, stroking your shaft in a way that almost snaps it in half while enjoying your big balls and dirty butthole.

"Let me see that asshole," you ask of Suzy, who turns around and spreads her butt open for you to see the work your cock did on it. But it was all an excuse to shove your cock in it while getting a perfect view of her behind. 

"Sit all the way down," you tell Suzy. She does it as you please, pushing your full pole in it. "Move it slowly up and down; let me see my length going in and out of your ass," you tell Suzy, who does it very slowly. "That's perfect, very slow, just like I want it," you tell her. Suzy's slow bounces and her moans over your massive cock impaling her push you to the edge once again. "Like that, like that, keep moving slowly," you tell her.

Suzy bounces faster as you give her butt a few spanks and order her to do so, getting you even closer to cumming again. You can no longer resist the urge; her bounces are getting you out of breath. You soon take control, getting on the edge of the bed and putting Suzy on all fours and fucking her asshole at full speed, giving her hard spanks until you finally cum inside it.

It seems for a moment that's going to be it for the morning. As your cum oozes out of Suzy's butthole, you are now feeling exhausted, and Suzy heads to the shower. You stand idle in the bed for a few minutes, just hearing the noises coming from the bathroom and unable to get yourself hard again after such a long good fucking and two ball-draining cumshots inside Suzy's tight fuckholes.

But as soon as you decide to check on Suzy in the shower, that immediately changes. Her naked body looks even sexier while covered in water, and it gives you an instant boner. You look at her recently fucked ass, her washing your cum that's still all over it. She gives you that perfect smile, turning around as you give her some soap to pour over her body, the white foam covering her fuckholes, making them very enticing.

Suzy spreads her pussy lips and washes them with a lot of soap. She also uses a natural cleaner, as lots of pee comes out of it to help wash her cum-filled cunt. She also pours a lot of soap on her boobs, leading to a lot of foam covering them, before washing them away. Seeing your cock get hard once again, Suzy grabs it and strokes your shaft in the masterful way she always does. "It's so dirty after such a long time in my ass; let me help clean it," she says.

After lots of stroking, finally feeling your cock is truly clean, Suzy turns around, gets off the shower, and guides it for one final time in her pussy. She takes it deep, wiggling her ass and bouncing on it sensually while holding her hands against the shower's support. You stay passive for a bit, just letting her do the work, until a feeling of guilt starts coming into your head.

You start thinking of Kazuha. The good girl you had worked so hard to get a date and even managed to have sex with her in it, who must be chilling at her home now unaware that you are fucking the older, sluttier clone of her. Every time Suzy bounces her cunt all the way down her cock, you get madder at her for being such a good whore that she leads to you having second thoughts about Zuha. For being such a bad girl.

You grab Suzy by her neck once again and take her out of the shower. You are now determined to punish this slut on her birthday for being such a wrecking force of nature. For undermining your relationship. For pushing you towards doing the naughtiest things in bed. You take her across the bathroom, hitting her beautiful face multiple times until you shove it down the toilet.

But that only makes Suzy get sluttier. She puts her tongue out and invites the challenge as you stick your cock in her pussy once more. You flush the toilet, but she stays unfazed, pushing you to fuck her as hard as you can. "Fuck me just like that," she demands. "SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU SHITTY WHORE," you answer, yelling at her.

"Take that fucking cock, stupid whore," you tell Suzy. Now you don't care which hole you're fucking. Pussy, anus, it doesn't matter, as long as you stick your cock hard and deep inside Suzy and show her who the boss is. You hammer her like a lifeless sex doll, flushing the toilet multiple times to teach her a lesson. "OH FUCKKKKKK," she screams, but with a laugh in her face and an animalesque drive that quickly rises up as you get more and more insane.

Suzy crawls on all fours as you finish fucking her in the toilet, screaming like a horny demon as she chases you over the bathroom. You pin her to the glass of the shower box and fuck her face, making her drool in saliva that drops down her chin. Your cock is throbbing so hard for that bitch that you quickly have to pull out, jerking your cock off as you prepare to unload in her face. "I want all that cum in my fucking throat, every single drop of it," she says in an inviting fashion.

And what a load it was. It may have been the third of the day, but it was by far the fattest, covering Suzy's face and mouth and painting the whole glass behind her in white. Twelve shots of milky white cream for this whore on her birthday, glazing her face. Suzy is so hungry she immediately licks your cum out of the glass, fulfilling her promise of swallowing every single drop, making bubbles with it in her mouth.

"It tastes so fucking good," she tells you. "That was a good way to wake up," you tell her. Suzy gets back to bed as you admire her body—the way she's a perfect cum dump, smelling like every single body fluid and looking like a total slut.

"Is this better than the breakfast you were eating in the kitchen? I bet it has a lot more protein," you tell her. "For sure," Suzy answers, giggling to you. Both of you stay in bed for a bit, her winking your anus and praising you for giving her such a great birthday gift, until you say a couple of words that provide the perfect ending.

"I need to pee."

"Then pee on me," Suzy says. "Let's go to the shower once again," you tell her. Suzy kneels on the shower's tile, and your cock bursts the yellow liquid all over her mouth, with her easily swallowing more of it, smiling at you once you're done turning her into an urinal.

"I think I'm gonna take a walk after this, smelling like piss and cum," Suzy says. "Also, don't you have classes this morning?" she asked.

"Damn, you're right," you tell her.

"I'll be waiting tonight, and don't forget to bring Kazuha."

PS: I almost canceled this fic, but given I had written most of it, in spite of my tight schedule, I decided to make an effort to publish it on Suzy's 30th birthday, as she has always been one of my favorites and is one of the most legendary female idols to ever live. Hope you guys enjoy the story, the refences to Doona, one of the dramas she starred on, the threesome with her lookalike Kazuha and her going full bad girl for a morning sex session.

Happy Suzy Day!

[r1elle]

“no use crying over spilled milk.” —except, there probably is.

a. miya x reader

atsumu knows he’s messed up.

he thinks he may need to leave all that he’s accomplished in his lifetime — all because of a simple, but dire mistake.

“this can’t be happenin..” the blonde murmurs, looking at the monstrosity infront of him.

spilled vegetable smoothie. on three dozens of cooling cookies. that you’ve excitedly made. for your friends and family. as gifts.

atsumu was definitely crying over this ‘spilled milk’.

brushing off the fear of getting divorced on Christmas Eve, atsumu decides to think of how he can remove any remaining evidence.

he thinks that perhaps he can just bake the cookies again, —but argh, he silently curses osamu for taking the culinary skills.

the blonde scrambles around, scurrying to every part of the kitchen to at least try and scrape some of the green-kelpy smoothie bits on your cookies.

the opening of the front door was the only thing that could make him drop whatever he was doing.

“atsumu!~ do you think you can help me with the groceries? i ended up going a little overboard, so i bought some hot coco and chocolate fondue as something to go with the cookies! and—“ you ramble on, however atsumu could only feel the lump forming in his throat, the sweat on his forehead, and the drying of his lips.

he’d rather experience losing a volleyball match right now.

but unfortunately, the sweating of his palms wasn’t going to help him cover his crime scene— with you finally walking up to him with a questionable tone and all.

on some lame attempt to delay your discovery by even a fraction of a second, atsumu lays a cloth on top of your pastries.

“hey, something the matt—……er…?”

you pause in between your words, familiar with atsumu’s current expression. your husband is wearing the exact face he made the last time he realized he’d accidentally mistaken your diy project as trash and threw it out. (valentines almost ended off with him sleeping on the couch.)

his face could only mean one thing, then.

however, distracting you from the overly guilty look on his face was the unusual placement of the rag that you had bought not long ago.

you look at the cookies.

he looks at you.

you look at him.

he looks at the cookies.

you lift the rag.

green, protein-y, vegetable smoothie mix laid on top of your thick, chocolate chipped cookies.

“miya.”

despite the fact that you both now share the same last name— atsumu knows you talk of his last name.

he fears that you may end up going back to your own after this night passes.

“baby please, i— i didn’t…” he rambles, but knows that no excuse can save him from his actions. he pinches the bridge of his nose. “…im…i’m sorry, hon. i’ve got no excuse. i was bein’ careless, and yer’ cookies are all damped because of my stupidity. i’m sorry. what can i do? hm?”

his build envelopes yours, and suddenly you find a man nearing his 30s senselessly murmuring sweet nothings to your ear, hoping that perhaps a single saying can be of the slightest comfort to your disappointment.

the room quiets down, the sound of the ventilation being the only source bearing noise.

the silence only makes atsumu antsy, who begins to lose hope of your anger easing down any time soon.

and so, he decides to call it a night.

“i’ll take the couch tonight, hm? how’s that? i know that it’s nothin’ much…”

a grin.

“…but if it’ll help you in even the slightest way, i’m more than willing to do it—”

a stifle of laughter.

atsumu paused, thinking that the (familiar) sound he’d just heard was some sort of hallucination that his mind had made up on the spot.

“a-anyway, i’ll see what i can do soon, and—“

finally releasing any ounce of self control you had, bursts of laughter start leaving your mouth.

“oh— oh, oh my gosh, i…” your unexplained cackling begins to alter the solemn look on your husbands face into one of confusion.

“you just looked so pathetic— it was cute! i’m sorry, i’m sorry..” you manage to hide in a snort, your husbands eyes following every movement you made.

why were you laughing? was he getting divorced?! is this some sick way to break it to him? no…no??! you’ve both been through so much together, you couldn’t possibly—… but then again… he’s probably put you through so much! argh! is this what osamu meant when he said—

atsumu’s disorganized internal thoughts then get interrupted by your pecks, something that’s been able to melt him since your last year of highschool.

“i’m not mad, no.. no,” you smile, a little giggle sneaking out. “i just couldn’t help but see how you’d react if i looked mad! i’m sorry baby, forgive me?” you coo, your head lifting up to meet his eyes as you sway his tall figure.

“but… i.. yer not mad? i completely trashed the cookies, babe. look!—

“i may or may not have accidentally mixed the salt up for sugar.” you say, a playful smile greeting your lips. “haven’t told you about the cookies i just bought from the store.”

as if all his worries had come to an end, atsumu’s shoulders slump down, a sigh coming out of him.

“ya couldn’t just tell me all that in the beginnin’?”

“and miss seeing you all so guilty and pouty? what am i, insane?”

“be happy i love ya’.”

“need i remind you of last valentines, then?”

“why don’t we get set up? also, yer’ lookin’ beautiful in that dress. anyone told you that yet?”

“okay, you can stop that now, miya.”

“yer’ a miya too, ya know.” he grins.

you roll your eyes, however a smile creeps it’s way in, betraying your ‘dismay’ towards the man.

“you’re right. i suppose i am.”

this was from the request of an oomf !

can we just pretend this was posted before Christmas thank u very muchiez

i fear that the pathetic husband atsumu will never become a trope i’ll get tired of

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone !

ps. if you start seeing that i lowkey started to get confused as to how to write that lil accent he has, no u didn’t.

[cazshmere]

Synastry Observations Pt.2

materialist🔖

DISCLAIMER: These are just my personal observations and are meant for entertainment purposes only; it may not resonate with everyone due to the nuances of astrology. Please respect my work and avoid copying or stealing it. Enjoy reading!! 🍊⭐️

🍊 Mars in the 12th house synastry has got to be one of the worst things 😭. It’s confusing and exhausting. The Mars person seems to harbour some sort of irrational animosity towards the house person in a very passive-aggressive way. The house person can sense this too, but they are unsure if they’re making it up or not. Also, it’s such a blockage; you could be really close to each other and know of each other, but the conversation WOULD TAKE AGES to start because neither the house person nor the Mars person wants to initiate conversation. It’s like there’s an invisible barrier between you guys 🥲

🍊 Venus in the 8th house/ in Scorpio’s first romantic relationship or situation always ends up hurting them. I’ve seen this countless times where their first experience with romance either ends in heartbreak, unrequited love, or just a missed opportunity. This heartbreak helps these individuals immensely transform, and they might prefer to isolate themselves from anything romance-related for a long period of time. Honestly I think this is a canon event for every Scorpio/8th house Venus that I’ve met, including me lmao and especially if there are Venus-Saturn hard aspects, dear lord, sending love to all my scorp/8th house placements fr🫶🏻🥲❤️‍🩹

🍊 Something I’ve observed with Libra placements, especially the moon, is that when they’re in a relationship, it becomes the focal point of their life. They might go as far as changing career paths to be closer to their partner, altering their style to match their partner’s preferences, or adjusting their personality to be more appealing to their partner (yes I’m sure most of us do this to some extent but it’s a bit excessive for these peeps😭). Their relationship becomes such a central part of their identity that if anything goes wrong, it can feel devastating for them. For instance, I have a friend who is a Libra moon, and she always refers to her partner as “my boyfriend” instead of his name, even though we all know him personally, like gurl come on he’s got a name haha😭

🍊 Moon in the 12th house synastry can equate to the house person opening up to the moon person or just feeling extremely vulnerable around them. They’d share things with the moon person that they dare not share with anyone else. This synastry could also mean staying up late in the night and throwing your sleep away just to talk to each other 🧿

🍊 12th house synastry could also have undertones of enemies-to-lovers (the lovers part only if you ever get together, that is) because there’s this energy where you don’t know why the other person acts hostile/passive-aggressive towards you, ignores you, or sends you mixed signals that makes you dislike them but at the same time, you can’t stop fantasizing/dreaming about them in all these romantic scenarios or them showing up in your dreams outta nowhere like??😭

🍊 7th/8th and even 10th (to some extent) house synastry could indicate that one of the two, either the house person or the planet person (mostly the house person), copies the other, be it mannerisms, clothes, slang, or even certain traits of the other’s personality 💀. It’s because they notice how much attention or admiration the planet person garners, so to obtain that same kind of attention and recognition the house person might try to emulate the planet person 🫤

🍊 7th house Mars synastry can be very annoying and tiresome (especially for the house person). The Mars person could be a bit too much for the house person. The Mars person could get very petty and passive-aggressive towards the house person for no reason (this could go vice versa too). Yes there is sexual attraction and y’all could motivate/support each other through stuff but at the same time it’s draining asf, a big no no for me when it comes to synastry 🥲

🍊 Moon square Saturn synastry can cause delays when it comes to emotional attachment between two people, but once these two finally connect, it’s ride or die typa relationship fr 🥺🫂

🍊 Moon/Mercury in the 1st/5th/9th house synastry is very exciting and fun-loving, with lots of playful teasing and bantering with each other 😋🥰

🍊Moon /Mercury in the 2nd/4th/8th/10th/12th house synastry makes both parties very sensitive to each other’s words because these houses reflect our self esteem/self worth, the deepest parts of ourselves, our core, our reputation etc. A little bit of critique can also be taken personally by either party. Even harmless jokes could be taken in the wrong way and arguments could occur (especially if there isn’t 3rd/5th/9th/11th house synastry or any easy aspects in the synastry chart)

🍊 When someone's planets fall in your 8th house, they intuitively sense your true and deep needs related to that planet. For example, if someone's Venus is in your 8th house, they will know how to love you in a way that makes you feel unconditionally loved and appreciated. If their Mercury is in your 8th house, they will understand how to communicate with you on a profound level, meeting your need for deep and meaningful conversation. If their Mars is in your 8th house, they will instinctively know how to meet your sexual needs and desires and please you in bed🖤❤️‍🔥

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