#good lord this piece makes me feel things

[meadowlarkx]

8+8+8 Silmarillion Fic Recs 2024!

I was inspired by @sallysavestheday and @polutrope's recs to revisit some of the Silmarillion fandom fics I read and loved in 2024, arranged in lists of 8 long fics, 8 short fics, and 8 bite-size fics that made my year delightful. With plenty of things still on the TBR, I figured I would nonetheless share a few faves!

Fics and summaries under the cut!

Longer fics

Penumbra by @imakemywings (Maedhros/Thingol, M, 18k)

Maedhros presents himself as a diplomatic guest to Doriath, certain he can convince the king to do as Maedhros wishes him to if he only had the chance. It is possible Maedhros is less than prepared for Doriath than he expected.

This is the kind of longer fic that feels so beautifully fleshed out and lived-in to read. Thingol characterization here is INCREDIBLE as is the slow build court romance, political dynamics, and light mentor/mentee. So key to my conception of this amazing ship.

naught green upon the oak series by @welcomingdisaster (Maedhros/Maglor, E, 37k)

Maglor returns from the Bragollach. Or someone returns, anyhow.

I love this Gothic widower Maedhros so much. This CoH-inspired Maedhros/Maglor (in which much is being compartmentalized) is so dreamlike to read. Himring feels like a house in a fairytale, Maglor its lost princess. Also, really sexy.

Mélamar by @buds-of-marjoram (Maedhros/Maglor, E, 40k)

Nelyafinwë doesn't have the sight, yet his dreams are filled with blood, fire and screams. Even in the peace of Valimar.

Please imagine a world where Maedhros foresees the dreadful events and moral spiral of Silm in advance, shares his misgivings with Maglor, and then the tragedy is averted by their close bond and increasingly public D/s relationship as Maedhros takes the reins of politics in Valinor to arrange the pieces on the board differently than in canon. This lavish, sexy fic brings me SO much joy.

What Blooms on Ard-Galen in the Springtime by @jouissants (Maedhros/Maglor, E, 8k)

The grasses and flowers sleep beneath a blanket of white feet thick. When spring comes and Maglor walks among them again, all will be different.

I could not resist the chance to rec Maglor lady-lord of Himring of my heart. This accidental pregnancy AU is so gorgeous and tender. Maglor doubting Maedhros' valuing of him and then it being so plainly affirmed and reaffirmed heals me. Please also read jouissants' absolutely epic postcanon Strange Currencies, which I can't say enough about!!

The Worst Are Full of Passionate Intensity by steadfastalysanne2022 / @last-capy-hupping (Thuringwethil/Ungoliant, E, 7k)

In which Ungoliant comes to Middle Earth, nearly slays Morgoth, and recruits a new servant within a week.

This is so incredibly hot and unhinged and such a gift to fandom femslash. Thuringwethil attracted to power and enmeshed in its hierarchies, served by others and seeking someone worthier/worthiest to serve herself, then biting off way more than she can chew with Ungoliant, is all just so good. Reading it for the first time made like my whole week.

And Love Grew by @polutrope (Maglor & Elrond & Elros, T, 23k)

As a host of survivors makes the journey from Sirion to Amon Ereb under Maglor's leadership, old bonds unravel and loyalties crumble. But from the scraps and ruins, new and unlikely bonds take shape. A story of perseverance through suffering.

This is written in such a classic and considered style--it's beautiful canonverse feelings and atmosphere. I love this story's grim yet so expressive tragic hero Maglor and very bleak (hurting me) leader Maedhros.

Kiss and Marry by @thecoolblackwaves (Celegorm/Curufin, M, 4k chapter fic)

Curvo and Tyelko get married. What could possibly go wrong with these two together?

Curufin thinks carefully and chooses a spouse: who better than Celegorm? This is such good crackfic, it had me cackling aloud to read. This isn't a ship I usually have a lot of feelings about, but the marriage premise and the hilarity/sincerity of it all really made it for me.

Laurë by Huiniel (Glaurung/Maglor, Fingon/Maedhros/Maglor, E, 29k)

Glaurung takes Maglor captive, hypnotizes him, and fucks him on a pile of gold. That's all I have.

(I love this summary, which I read via googletranslate, along with the rest of the fic--it's originally in Russian if you prefer to read in the original!) I can't not mention this fic, updates of which have been such a prominent (and thrilling) feature of my 2024 reading experience. Maglor is rescued from Glaurung's clutches, but he isn't the same as he was before. I love the dynamics between Maglor and Maedhros and Maglor and his other brothers and the angst and smut of it all.

Shorter fics

one whole with my other by @i-am-a-lonely-visitor (Míriel/Indis, E, 4k)

“Indis-i-Noldóran,” spoke the Maia through a mouthful of rain. “I bear news of one who will return to your house.”

God... god. So poetic and beautifully written, so tender and sexy. This fic makes me cry every time I reread it. I love arranged marriage setups and this story, with newly and vividly alive Míriel returned to a lonely, proud, and noble Indis in a reconfiguration of the Finwë-Míriel-Indis relationship/Statute, is such a beautiful take on them.

The Patience of the Oak by @imakemywings (Galadriel/Melian, G, 3k)

Galadriel is determined to show Melian she is capable of more than Melian believes. Melian wonders if her pupil grasps her lessons.

This is just incredible--so poetically written, so magical and atmospheric. The power dynamics and mentorship and osanwë are amazing and Melian's vast and eerie presence are peak weird Maiar. Young, reckless, proud Galadriel is captured perfectly. Also, one of the sexiest G-rated fics out there.

To Wear a Heart So White by Tilion / @tilion-writes (Maedhros & Maglor, T, 2k)

“Will all great Ulmo’s ocean wash this blood clean from my hand?” Maglor whispered hoarsely. “No, this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red.” “My hands are of your color,” Maedhros growled, “but I shame to wear a heart so white.”

Maedhros and Maglor at Sirion, and dialogue from Macbeth. I've been captivated by this ever since I read it. Each line is so well-placed and the dynamic between them sings. I love the way this concept is used to express the canon violence and tragedy of it all, too.

Banked Fires Blaze by Chestnut_pod (Aerin & Fire Pot; Aerin/Brodda, T, 2k)

What is it to be made for a kinder world?

This fic is SO creative and brilliant--telling Aerin's story and the burning of Brodda's hall as part of a longer folktale/myth about women and hearths and Brodda's people and the coming Dagor Dagorath. I really love examinations of non-normative/human/"bad" traditions and cultures in Tolkien and I was blown away by this portrait of a different kind of Silmarillion myth!

Proxy by @aipilosse (Celegorm/Celebrimbor, E, 3k)

Celegorm's nephew seeks him out one evening in Nargothrond. Celegorm is playing king, but Celebrimbor's game is less clear.

This is so juicy and gendery--masc transmasc Celegorm comparing Celebrimbor to Lúthien. Celegorm leaning further and further into playing the villain and Celebrimbor struggling with the family's deeds, the break between them imminent, makes for such a good dynamic. Dark and sexy and fraught!!

the ways of birds by @welcomingdisaster (Maglor & Maedhros, T, 4k)

When Maglor is captured in the aftermath of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, he doesn't expect a rescue.

Whump in the venerable whumpfic tradition and honestly so formative to me. I love how gritty this is and how vividly I can picture the wretched goblin march through the landscape. I LOVE Maedhros rejecting political expediency and rejecting pragmatism to save Maglor.

My Son by @polutrope (Fëanor/Maglor, E, 3k)

“Father, I assure you: it is nothing. I would choose you a thousand times before any husband. Ever would I choose my own blood before that of a stranger.” After his exile to Formenos, Feanor locks himself in the vault with the Silmarils. Makalaure goes to him.

This is such an eerie and beautiful dark fairytale. With how entwined the Feanorians all are by the Oath and their loyalty to Fëanor, this relationship makes only too much sense in this story. I love Maglor's desire and the gender and selfhood of it all, and how unsettling and selfish Fëanor's taking possession of him is.

make me come alive by @queerofthedagger (Maedhros/Maglor, E, 6k)

Maglor struggles to give up control. Maedhros makes sure that he learns.

MY SILMSMUTEXCHANGE GIFT!! Himring Maedhros + osanwë lifestyle BDSM + Gap Maglor. This builds deliciously--it is sooo sexy. Maglor's loyalty and Maglor struggling to accept Maedhros' authority--but needing it, it settling his guilt and unease--are fantastic. One of the hottest unhinged Maedhroses I have read. I love the way his presence looms in Maglor's mind even in his absence and how convinced he is that he has Maglor's best interests at heart.

+ 1 extra: Forbidden Prey by @whovianofmidgard (Celegorm/Maglor, M, 3k)

Celegorm doesn't know that he is attracted to his older brother, Maglor. He ends up pushing him away, while searching for Maglor's traits in his other potential loves.

I have to mention this fic because I simply enjoyed reading it SO much. I love a feminine Maglor and a Celegorm who wants Maglor and is taking that out on him. The hints of background Maedhros/Maglor, Celegorm's jealousy and obsession, and the way this spirals into Celegorm's attraction to Lúthien are all just catnip to my brain.

Really short fics (under or around 1k)

The Fortress by TheLegendCreator (Himring & Maedhros, G, ~500 words)

A Dwarf visits Tol Himling and wonders about the craftsmanship. He listens to the stone-song, and it tells him the tale of an Elf-lord that wove his heart into stone.

I love the mythic/fairytale vibes of this--the way Himring's stones remember Maedhros, and the dwarven OC is chilled hearing his tale. It strongly evokes to me the "deep they delved us, fair they wrought us" memory and history of Tolkien's ruins and landscapes.

sundial by @swanmaiden (Pengolodh/Dírhavel, G, ~500 words)

Pengolodh meets a kindred spirit in the market square at the Havens of Sirion.

This is so bittersweet--the humble but bustling life of Sirion before the kinslaying and the mutual recognition of these two historians and tellers of tales. Knowing what's to come makes their brief connection and Pengolodh's resolution to share his feelings hit all the harder. You get the feeling that he never gets the chance to.

One Thousand Days by @melestasflight (Uldor & Maedhros, T, ~800 words)

Uldor has spent one thousand days carefully observing the Lord of Himring. Because everyone has a weakness, and Maedhros’ weakness lies in the West.

I just love the POV switch here on Tolkien's "villainous" peoples, the way this story makes Uldor's betrayal seem not only compelling but reasonable from his perspective. The arrogant preoccupation of Elves with other Elves, the rumors of the kinslayings, Uldor's dying curse flung at Maglor.... all so good.

Fire by @buds-of-marjoram (Maedhros/Maglor, M, ~300 words)

My brother came back; an inferno.

This brief ficlet is so evocative and so sensual. I love the BDSM dynamic here and the Maglor POV of Maedhros--the way Maedhros has changed, become cruel even, but they adore each other and are completely entwined.

Let the water hold me down by BloodwingBlackbird (Daeron/Melian, E, ~900 words)

Daeron and Melian and songs.

Melian captivates Daeron and Daeron gives himself and his music over to her as her conduit. An absolutely incredible eerie, otherworldly Melian and the patron/artist dynamic is so sexy. Daeron's juxtaposed with Maglor--who can't understand what he shares with Melian and can't decide whether to pity or envy him for his queen's patronage. So vividly and poetically written. My Innumerable Stars gift!!

crowns and other trinkets by @thelordofgifs (Maedhros & Maglor, G, 1.4k)

In the years of Maedhros’ captivity Maglor would indulge himself, sometimes, and open the chest, and admire the treasure within as though he were yet a fanciful child trying on his brother’s baubles; and he would tell himself that he would hear Maedhros’ laughing voice at the door any moment now, saying, Are you going through my things again, little magpie? Before the Mereth Aderthad, Maedhros and Maglor sort through some jewellery.

I always adore Maglor haunted by guilt from his "kingship" and this scene brings so much of that for me in subtle ways. I love Maedhros' attention to Maglor, the way he wants to foist adornments on him, and the way the pieces of jewelry link past and present, bringing younger and happier moments into the room in bleak Beleriand where they must decide which of their few things to part with. Hints of Celegorm being cruel and accusatory to Maglor during Maedhros' captivity are the cherry on top for me.

Atonement by @jouissants (Maedhros/Maglor, G, 1.5k)

Maedhros and Maglor, home at the end of the world.

Out of so many amazing fics and amazing Maedhros/Maglor fics from jouissants this year I struggled to pick what to put on this list but it had to include this one--so comforting and tender, I've reread it so many times. I LOVE this weary canon divergence Maedhros--how determined he is to love Maglor well despite everything, to stay with him, to not choose death--how he's deeply satisfied by Maglor's small comforts, too, despite things not being easy and their life being so humble. Maglor pregnancy literally can fix them I believe it.

Surfeited by sabcatt / @shinraelectricpowercom (Celegorm/Dior, E, 1.1k)

Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. After the Ruin of Doriath, Celegorm has some fun with his prize. Dior would like to get off this ride.

This is like the best evil "tender"(-ish) noncon ever. Celegorm/Dior is such a good ship all the time but especially when Celegorm gets the chance to be horrific and to take out his thwarted attraction for Lúthien on Dior. This brilliantly crafted smut is bringing it all. Go read it...

[lycanlovebites]

I just discovered the painting Dante and Virgil in Hell by William-Adolphe Bougureau and oh my god. Oh my god this is like the gayest painting I’ve ever seen. Oh my god. The POSES?? The BITING??? I gotta lay down for a bit oh dear

[doverstar]

actually I love Tentoo and he is the Doctor and it was the only ending for Rose that worked and it is a huge gift to be able to have the man she loves grow old with her, they were always heading for that, y'all be quiet. I 100% understand the angst but it's okay, they're okay, good ending-

[garrettwrites]

When someone tells you they don't like hugs, that's not an invitation for you to "cure them". It is not a "you" thing, although sometimes it might be. You thinking "they have to get used to it" because "your hugs are different" and "that's how you show love" is not a valid argument. Hugging them out of the blue as a goodbye is not cool either. Fuck off.

[heylinfanclub]

Dangit big money friend I know which blog is yours I just can’t find it or remember the url n can’t find you in the DMS I kNOW I’ve talked to you (adhd memory fog promise I got that big respect)—- but I can’t say Paypal names allowed in fear of deadnames. YOU COME GET ART FROM ME POSTHASTE. hell I’ll make physical art and MAIL IT TO YOU. Your generosity knows no bounds and I hope to share the love with the energy it provides me to SURVIVE.

Note to self: I should make an art piece about the Wealth of Having Community.

[1roentgen]

.

[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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[daytaker]

The Gang React to You Ignoring Them

Lucifer

"How childish. They'll have forgotten by the end of the day."

By the end of the day, however, Lucifer has reached his fucking limit. But his pride will not only prevent him from begging you to knock it off-- it will prevent him from even acknowledging in your presence that he is remotely bothered.

He probably goes to vent to Diavolo -- that is to say, visit him for tea and offhandedly comment about your immaturity for pulling such a stunt, knowing that he'll just contact you and beg for him.

Mammon

"Oh no you don't! MC! MC! MC! MC! MC! Hey! MC! MC! Hey! MC!"

He will follow you wherever you go. At first he thinks he's hilarious, being an absolute pain in the ass, but the longer it goes on, the more dejected he gets. His energy level tanks and soon he's just lying on top of the nearest piece of furniture and whining for you to stop it.

If you manage to get him off of you long enough to escape him, he will just text you.

Mammon: MC Mammon: MC Mammon: Hey MC Mammon: Hey Mammon: MC

If you block him, he will just text someone else until that person becomes so annoyed that THEY beg you to stop.

When you finally give in, he pretends like he didn't even care that much. It was just a little joke between pals, right? Haha!

Leviathan

"So this is how easy it is for you to just toss me aside like a piece of garbage."

Levi will take this extremely personally. Depending on why you're ignoring him, he might blame himself and enter a spiral of self-hate. He'll hole up in his room, refusing to leave until you finally come in and either apologize or forgive him, whichever is appropriate.

He'll spend a few moody minutes acting like it's too late for that, but soon he'll be on the verge of tears, making you to swear on a copy of The Tale of the Seven Lords that you will never pull that kind of thing again.

Satan

"Really? Is this what it's come to? You understand how pathetic this makes you look, don't you?"

Like Lucifer, he won't be too bothered at first, assuming you'll get over things relatively soon. But if nothing has changed within an hour or two, he'll start to get testy. He'll send a text, sit in the same room as you and stare a hole through your head, and if you're still ignoring him after a while of that, he'll storm up to his room.

Depending on how emotionally charged the incident was that led to you ignoring him, he will be more or less capable of fending off an explosion of temper. Most likely, any acknowledgement you toss his way will ease the tension, so it might be a good idea to just shoot him a text asking him not to destroy the house, please.

Asmodeus

"But it's impossible to ignore me! You can't look away from a face like mine! See?"

I don't think you can ignore Asmo. Being the literal Avatar of Lust with powers to charm and an intense need to be admired and adored, he simply exudes an aura that demands attention. You should probably come up with a different strategy of attack.

Beelzebub

"...Are you mad at me?"

Why would you do that to him? How could you be so cruel?

If you did do it, it would probably confuse and sadden him. Confusion and sorrow both make him feel hungry, so he will go ahead and start eating his feelings within an hour of the silent treatment. Even if you're content to allow this to continue, the other six demons in the house aren't, and you will ultimately have no choice but to make up with Beel.

Belphegor

belphie.exe has stopped responding

Considering you'd already forgiven him for the whole murder thing, he can't comprehend how you've become so mad at him that you'd go so far as to give him the cold shoulder. He won't know how to respond at first, but he will quickly become an angry, sulky ball curled up under the blankets on his bed. If it takes more than a few hours for you to come crawling back to him, things will start to change. Belphie will return to the common areas of the house, acting mostly the same as usual, and he will not spare you a second glance. Even if you stop ignoring him, well, two can play this game, and Belphie is absolutely petty enough to drag this one out.

After a day or two of you trying to talk to him, he'll relent. He'll feel kind of guilty, having worked through most of his anger while ignoring you. He'll probably text you a lot for the next day or two, just to ease some of his anxieties.

Diavolo

"I don't understand."

You can't do that. That's illegal. Next character.

Barbatos

"Hehe. What a troublemaker."

Barbatos likes it when you ignore him sometimes.

Barbatos will not change his behavior at all, ever. You could spend the rest of your life ignoring him, and he would simply accept it as one of those unfortunate circumstances life sometimes throws his way. He would prefer it if things didn't go down that way, though. Basically, he'll let you come to him whenever you've gotten over whatever it is you're upset about. What a king.

Solomon

"Hmm? Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Solomon will act pretty much the same as usual around you too. He'll point out that you're ignoring him to whoever else happens to be around and bemoan the situation, but he won't actively appeal to you. Instead, he'll orchestrate a scenario that traps you in a situation where he is the only person you can go to for help. As soon as you do that, he'll act as if nothing ever happened. If you resume the silent treatment, well, he can always come up with another scenario.

Are you still sure it's a good idea?

Simeon

"I didn't realize you were so upset. I'm sorry (that/if) I hurt you."

Simeon will either immediately understand why you are doing this, in which case he will apologize (using "that") or he will have absolutely no idea what's going on, and he'll still apologize (using "if") to be on the safe side.

If you don't show any signs of breaking, he'll enlist Luke's help to make you an apology dessert of some sort. And how can you stay mad at him when he's offering you angel food cake with such a sad expression?

Luke

😧😠😣🥺😢

Wh- Whaaa...?! How dare you ignore him! That's so mean! It must be all the demonic influences rubbing off on you! Stop it! Stop it or he's going to tell Simeon!

And then he'll go and tell Simeon. Simeon will probably tell him to just wait until you've calmed down. If he thinks you're being unreasonable, though, he'll probably have a talk with you himself. Really? Pulling the silent treatment on an actual child? Sure, he's a millennium old, but he's still a child.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny, at 17, did not have the best love life. This is partially because two of his must haves in a partner are " Will protect me with their life" and "Will commit unspeakable acts of violence for me" or at least beat someone up for his honor.

Naturally, this doesn't always result in the most stable of partners.

His first girlfriend, Valerie, became an anti-hero and broke up with him for his safety.

He finally got with Sam in sophomore year only for the feds to come into class one day to arrest her. To his surprise, her crimes had nothing to do with ghosts but rather an incident where she went too far and committed a few acts of economic terrorism. Danny and Tucker never really learned the specifics of the crimes, and her parents hushed up as many news outlets as they could, so there wasn't much info to go around. All they knew was that she saved thousands of lives by doing it.

In the end, she was sentenced to eight years, and she broke up with him so that he wouldn't wait around for her to get out.

His third partner was a guy named David who was really sweet. Unfortunately, Danny got kidnapped one day by David's arch nemesis, who was some villain with a corny edge lord name. Yeah. David had become a a super hero after they started dating.

And if you guessed that he freaked out and dumped Danny for his own protection, you'd deserve a cookie.

Danny was noticing a pattern here. One that continued with everyone he dated. They always became some kind of hero before dumping him for his own protection, and it was infuriating. Sure, danny could defend himself, but he was never deep enough into the relationship to reveal his phantom half, and frankly, his hero career was something he left behind when he left Amity and destroyed the portals.

He met Tim at a skatepark after Tim fell off his board cause of some jerk speeding out in front of him on his own board, forcing Tim to stop or else hit the guy. The guy was unrepentant and Tim calmed him down (this did not stop him from melting the guys wheels with an ectoblast when no one was looking).

Tim then asked him to coffee. Danny, noticing how cute Tim was, agreed.

Danny was up front with his parents being mad scientists in Illinois. He always was with all the people he dated. It was better not to hide these kinds of things or worse, wait until you're already attached and afraid of losing them. So he always told potential partners as early as possible. Tim seemed a bit put off by this but was calmer about it than most, and they continued chatting.

Tim didn't seem like the type to turn to heroism or anti heroism so he felt safe on their later dates. It was only after he had known Tim for a while that he put the pieces together.

Tim was always covered in bruises that he hid with his clothes and make up, he had complained about batman over the phone when he thought danny couldn't hear, he was rich, he knew how to fight as revealed by his stances and footwork dispite trying to pretend he didn't, and lastly he held a lot of political power and influence being Bruce Wayne's son. Power he had no reservations using when it suited him or he was just feeling petty (that pettiness was part of why danny was falling for him harder than he thought he could)

No wonder Tim was so okay with his parents being rouges.

Tim was a villain!

At least Tim wouldn't leave him like all his exes. Danny doesn't think he could handle it if he did. Another good thing about this is now he can talk more freely about the more villainous and morally gray ideas and inventions when he was alone with Tim.

Tim didn't see anything wrong with Danny's idea to use something similar to cloning pods to make synthetic meats like rump roasts and steaks as a way to end world hunger and was eager to add to the conversation.

[sentoooo]

ᴍᴇꜱꜱᴍᴇʀ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ʀᴀᴍʙʟᴇꜱ

✭ pairing(s): messmer x gn reader

✧ a/n: chat is it like financially acceptable to buy a $260 collectors edition when you already have the game just for a statue of a guy You Like Too Much (do i have a thing for redheads?) also before anyone says "you can do anything you put your mind to" i can but also all i imagine is him splitting me in half so penetration... i know that he's messmer the impaler but not of this boypussy he aint

🗒 cw: SMUT, SHADOW OF THE ERDTREE SPOILERS, gn reader, tarnished reader, size difference, a little ooc, frotting, thigh jobs, handjobs, oral, accidental manhandling, hair pulling, praise, pesudo-bondage(?), not proofread

✎ wc: 1.1k

MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY

Intimacy is a long abandoned thought within the lands between. Long gone are the days of tenderness, and in their wake, only blood and steel remain. That is to say, MESSMER is a virgin. Painfully so.

Sex is quite the foreign concept for someone who’s being is steeped within the flames of war. The most love he had known was his mother’s coddling before she had disappeared, and in his rage, he had never sought out another form of love. Torn between the want for his mother to look down upon him once more, and the need to kill, to earn her approval once more, the thought of loving another, of trusting another with his body, his mind, his heart, it is near unfathomable.

And yet, here you were. Someone who stirred such benevolent (and more) feelings within him. How so utterly kind of you to share with him your heart, your mind, your body. He must repay you in kind, of course.

Now, let’s talk about the elephant in the room, or the snakes in the room, if you will. He feels quite embarrassed to have them there when you two… engage. While they understand and know his feelings– and they were the very obvious sign of his interest in you– to him, it’s the equivalent of having your pet in the room while you have sex. He makes them look away, since that is about all he can do. It is quite awkward your first time. But, they’ll come into play, later.

Due to MESSMER’s size, he is quite nervous about entering you, even with his fingers. It takes him a little while to get used to it. He trims his nails just for you, and he draws the line at two fingers, one is almost enough as it is. He gets accustomed to fingering you quickly, to have you sit in his lap while he presses his fingers into you, his free hand resting on your thigh and pushing it open, it is his own little piece of heaven.

Oral is another option for him, of course. Something that is much more easy on his mind, he doesn’t have to worry about delving too deep, nor about hurting you. He can just settle his head between your thighs and take what he wishes as you writhe above him. Pull his hair and praise him, and he’ll cum untouched. I promise.

He excels at oral, though. Put that practiced tongue to use. He maintains contact all the while, even though his face is quite red. He gives you this beautiful look that speaks volumes, ‘touch me, I beg’, it says. ‘Please’. And if you answer that plea, even simply by stroking his cheek, he lets out an audible shiver. Even his snakes shake a little, letting out a soft hiss as he continues.

On that note, however, good lord does this man enjoy a good frotting session. He is afraid to enter you, like I said, due to his size. Frotting is a good way to atleast feel you, while also granting himself pleasure, without hurting you. He could go on for days and nights just rutting against you, whimpering into your skin, simply basking in the (rather lewd) intimacy of it all.

MESSMER also quite enjoys thigh jobs. He loves them, actually. He sits you in his lap, fucking his cock up into the plush of your thighs, head buried in the crook of your neck as he guides your own rhythm. Of course, he could let you grind by yourself, but he prefers to take matters into his own hands (literally). It’s the least he can offer you (less of a workout) while he lets go of all his sexual frustrations between your thighs. He doesn’t mean to jostle you around as much as he does, he can’t help it.

Speaking of sexual frustrations, this man is PACKED FULL OF THEM. I’m not saying he could be fixed by jacking off, but he could at least feel a little better afterwards. With you, good lord has he calmed down. He’s a lot less tense, happier, perhaps even jubilant. You cannot wash away the fact that his mother is strung up and imprisoned by a god, but perhaps all MESSMER needed was to feel the warmth of another, rather than simmer in the ever-burning flame that he has come to know, and despise.

Now, about his snakes… it takes a long while for him to open up to the idea of them being incorporated into sex. Having them simply turn away makes it feel awkward, of course, but perhaps they could do more…? They do adore you, after all. Perhaps a little impromptu bondage? Keeping your hands tied as he feasts upon you, or perhaps keeping your legs parted as his cock glides against your own sex.

He isn't the most kinkiest guy, of course. Although, “kinky” in the Lands Between and Land of Shadow might be totally different to our description. The most he does is overstimulate you, but never on purpose. Sometimes MESSMER gets too ahead of himself, too wanting. And he takes what he wants, what he needs. Though he always apologizes afterwards, not that you mind. He never takes it too far anyways. He's got quite the stamina, yet still falls short due to his experience (i.e, zero).

Perhaps the two of you cannot be as close as you wish during sex, but that doesn't make the act any less intimate. Especially to him, a life so devoid of such love, only consumed by hate and longing, but never yearning. He's the kind of guy to cry during sex. Partially because it feels so good to him, but also because he has never understood this intimacy. Not until now. All sorts of proclamations of love spill from his lips as he guides your thighs along his lanky cock, burying his face in the crook of your neck and sobbing even softer words. Stroke his hair, whisper even sweeter words to him, and return the sentiment. He’ll cum harder, cry a little bit more, and reward you in kind. He’ll lift his head from your neck and look upon you with a teary-eyed, soft expression, and then kiss you oh so sweetly despite his cum coating your thighs.

MESSMER also likes a little balance in your guys’ sex life. He wants– needs to please you as much as you do him. He lets no deed go unrewarded, if you were to jack him off, he'd return by fingering you. And if you allow him to fuck your thighs, he’ll go down on you with a fervor that is unmatched. He makes sure you cum as much as he does, and vice versa. He’s a very fair man, in that aspect.

© sentoooo, 2024 | masterlist | kofi | star header by roseschoices | sfw blog

DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[sakurapandadreams]

୨♡୧ ASTRO OBSERVATIONS PT 5

Please take all of these predictions with a grain of salt I'm not a professional astrologer.

Here's my masterlist

& if you have any questions here are the GUIDELINES

NATAL OBSERVATIONS

🫐 Aquarius Mercuries also leave people on read thinking they'll reply later, dude reply now you guys will forget later on.

🫐 Venus square Pluto may get bullied by women and the men they reject.

🫐 Your Moon also shows what you overthink about :-

Eg : Virgo Moons overthink whether their intelligent enough or not.

Libra Moons overthink whether people love them or not.

Capricorn Moons are busy overthinking about who's lying.

Pisces Moons are busy overthinking about fictional characters or things that have not even taken place.

🫐 Mars in Taurus is also quite sensual and these people may have a high libido. Most of them know how to channel their energy.

🫐 Venus in Virgo tends to look good no matter what they wear [at times they may wear clothes that won't necessarily be their style but they will still end up looking good in it].

🫐 Cancer Moons are also good at manifestation.

🫐 Pisces Sun, Pisces Moons are better at hiding things, stuff, their personal life. Basically they lie where required.

🫐 Mars in Capricorn reminds me people who are more active mentally than physically. These people know when to play and when to be serious.

🫐 Cancer Risings I can't just blatantly state you guys get bad partners, it's just you guys often fall for people who have a tough time expressing themselves emotionally. You guys also end up being in karmic relationships many a times.

🫐 Moon square Mars tends to feel emotions very intensely. They should journal their anger on a clean piece of paper and then burn the paper.

VEDIC OBSERVATIONS

🫐 If you have a moon darakaraka, only in this placement you can marry a person with the same sign as yours.

🫐 Mars in the 2nd house may eat alot of meat, it's like they'll love meat and find it hard to be a Vegan or Vegetarian.

🫐 Also Mars in the 2nd house swears or curses a lot doesn't matter what sign. They can end up creating new cuss words too lol.

🫐 Rahu 10th house is a good placement however the natives with this placement struggle to choose a career for themselves.

🫐 Venus in the 9th house also tends to be asexual or sapiosexual.

🫐 Rahu in the 9th house makes you doubt your morals. Whether your a good person  or  not.

🫐 Sun-Mercury conjunction in the 7th house can give a spouse you has solutions to mostly all of your problems. Even if their not too educated they may still have solutions to your problems.

🫐 Sun Nakshatra people have so much perseverance like no matter what they go through they always stand tall facing their problems all by themselves.

🫐 Like 12th house reminds people of spiritual, paranormal, esoteric, escapism but what people forget is this house represents creativity as well.

🫐 12th house lord in the 9th house could mean your creative and would want to pursue a career in something artistic.

🫐 Venus in Pisces in any nakshatra gives you such ethereal dreamy looking face these people never age.

🫐 Sometimes I feel Mars atmakaraka has trouble asking for help.

🫐 Sagittarius Moons and Capricorn moons easily argue with each other then 5 min later their bffs like dude [yeh rishta kya keh lata hai.]

Credits for the images and dividers goes to the rightful owners

Copyright © 2024 sakurapandadreams | All rights reserved.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

hi Madeline! it’s me ready to annoy you with more javi THOTS

I know that man goes feral seeing you pregnant , especially when you start to show because everyone will know that HE made you that way and that you belong to HIM and it just makes him feel so primal and feral

Cassidy oh my GOD 😩😭 (y'all gotta stop doing this to me (pls actually don't), my baby fever is already so bad and this is not helping 💀) You are 100000% correct and now I can't get this out of my head and what was supposed to be a little drabble has decided to turn into a full blown thing WHOOPS

Insatiable

Summary: Javi thought he couldn't love you anymore than he already did- that was until the two of you found out you were expecting. Now that your baby bump is finally starting to show, Javi can't get enough of you.

Word Count: 3.7k

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Pregnant Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v (listen... she can't get pregnant if she's already pregnant soooooo), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, breeding kink (bc this man will keep you barefoot and pregnant as long as you let him), creampie, Javi is literally obsessed with you and is foaming at the mouth 24/7 watching you carry his baby, Javi is so excited to be a dad, Javi loving his cute lil family so much it makes me wanna vomit

A/N: Me: Damn, I need to write about something other than babies and breeding kinks. Also me: .... No. Don't mind me while I run laps in frantic circles and howl at the moon thinking about this because good lord, you know this man's breeding kink is an unstoppable force of nature

"What are you looking at?"

"Nothing."

"Well that look on your face definitely doesn't say nothing, Jav."

You couldn't help but giggle at the way Javi's eyes had been glued to you from the moment he had entered the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest and hip resting against the counter, admiring you like some sort of breathtaking piece of art as you worked on finishing up dinner.

Because truth be told, to him, that's what you were. Javi had no problem making it very clear to you that he was convinced you were the most beautiful woman to ever walk the face of this earth- beauty not just in the way that you appeared, but a beauty that came deep within your soul that had changed him in a way he would have never thought possible. A beauty that had given him a life he swore he would never deserve- that someway, somehow, you had wanted to spend the rest of your life loving him.

Even after over a year together, a new house, and a ring on your finger, Javi found himself falling harder and harder for you with every passing day. He was honestly convinced it was physically impossible to love you any more than he already did.

That was until four months ago, when the two of you found out that your love would no longer be spread between just the two of you- In a few months from now, it was soon going to be the three of you.

After watching you grow and carry his baby the past four months, Javi learned that despite all odds, he could love you more that he already thought possible.

"Your face says 'I'm thinking very dirty thoughts about my wife' or 'I'm really focusing on trying to hold in a fart' and if the second one's the case, I don't think it's very fair you still get to look that hot while you fart". You smirked, raising an eyebrow at Javi, reaching next to him to grab the dish towel you had been using to wipe your hands before mirroring his stance against the countertop.

"Luckily for you, it's not number two." Javi huffed, rolling his eyes at you before his gaze traveled down to your stomach.

Over the past few days, you had finally reached the point where you were starting to look pregnant, and not just like you had eaten 7 Thanksgiving dinners (as you lovingly liked to coin it). Your bump was now beginning to protrude out of your tighter fitting shirts, excited to see your belly starting to grow, giving your hand a new place to rest on top of the subtle curve, making you grin every time you placed it there.

You had also discovered that not only was Javi just excited about your adorable bump, your husband was ecstatic about it. Your pregnancy was now no longer the hardest secret he'd ever had to keep for the first 12 weeks of your baby's life, it was now an opportunity boast about the fact that you were his beautiful, pregnant wife, and that you and that baby were his.

At this point, there probably wasn't a soul in Laredo that didn't know you were pregnant, because everywhere Javi went, it was a chance to let anyone and everyone know he was going to be a dad, and you were the one carrying his baby.

"Hey, I have to leave our meeting early today because my wife has an ultrasound today for our baby."

"I know peanut butter and pickles is a weird combination, but my wife is pregnant, and what the baby wants, the baby gets."

"Just wanted to get the truck checked out since my wife and I have the baby to drive around in a few months."

And while maybe it was overkill, he just couldn't help it. There was something about becoming a dad, seeing you pregnant, knowing that he was the other half of your baby growing inside you that drove him absolutely feral.

If that gold, diamond band wrapped around your finger wasn't enough to prove that you were his, the baby he had put in your now barley bulging belly sure as fuck was.

Javi reached out his hand, fingers splayed across your stomach with an undeniable smile spread across his face as you rested your palm over his grasp, the two of you staring down stomach.

"Watchya thinkin' about, Jav?" You teased, speaking on behalf of both you and baby Peña as Javi stared at both his and your hands covering your bump, silently admiring the simple moment you were sharing.

"Can you believe we fucking made this?" Javi laughed quietly to himself, still in shock every time he really thought about how he was going to be a father. "That we're actually gonna have a baby?"

"Actually, I can, considering we were both there, and it was very fun." You giggled, lacing your fingers between Javi's and bringing his hand up to your mouth to plant a soft kiss on it, "It's crazy, Javi. I can't believe we're actually gonna be parents."

"Yeah? Fun, huh?" Javi smirked, bringing his other arm to wrap around your waist, fingers beginning to dig into your hips as he pulled you closer.

"Out of all the things I enjoy doing with you, Javier Peña, making babies is very high on that list."

Biting down on your lip, you leaned further into Javi's touch, your bump barley getting in the way of being chest to chest as he craned his neck down, engulfing your mouth in an electric kiss that had you feeling like you were floating.

"Fuck- I'd make 100 babies with you, Hermosa." Javi groaned, feeling the growing bulge in his pants starting to press against your thigh in between kisses.

"100?! Jesus, Jav, are we planning on running a circus?" You laughed, Javi too wrapped up in the thought of you carrying another one of his babies to even process your joke.

"I don't fuckin' care. I'll give you as many babies as you wanna have. You're so fucking sexy being pregnant."

Without your lips ever parting, Javi swung you around so that your back was pressed against the counter, caging your body under his before letting his kisses travel down your neck and collarbone, across your chest and south towards your stomach, until he was dropping to his knees in front of you.

"Javi, I've spent the past three months eating nothing but Hot Cheetos and pickles and complaining about how I need to throw up every thirty seconds, last time I checked, that's about as far from sexy as you can get." You tried your best to muster out some sort of laughter, but with the way that Javi was kissing you, letting his hands roam up to the waistband of your shorts, slowly beginning to tug your bottoms off your hips until you were in nothing but your underwear, Javi was making it very difficult to play into your joke.

Not that you were complaining.

"Nuh uh," Javi hummed, gently tracing his fingers over your covered folds, arousal seeping from your core into the dampening cotton, "Do you know how fucking sexy it is seeing you carry our baby? Knowing that you let me get you pregnant? Grow our kid and give us a family? Baby, if that's not the fucking sexiest thing I've ever heard, then I don't know what the fuck is."

Rubbing and forth, the pads of Javi's fingers applied more pressure to your clit, making you let out a whimper as he finally tended to the throbbing ache that had been rapidly building between your legs. At this point, your underwear was clinging to the outline of your cunt, swollen and puffy with anticipation as your slick soaked the fabric.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me already, baby girl." Javi tutted, hooking his fingers around the waistband of your panties and shuffling them down your legs, revealing the shiny mess smeared between your thighs from your weeping hole.

Scooting himself closer, Javi hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, wrapping his arm around your thigh to hold it in place and keep you balanced. His fingers slid through your folds, parting them with a V of his fingers to softly kiss your clit, big brown eyes looking up at you, pooling with lust as he watched you writhe under his touch.

"F-fuck, Javi, oh my god." You whined, noticing the shift in how your changing body and hormones made you even more responsive to Javi's touch, your pussy already beginning to clench around nothing with the way your stomach was swirling with arousal. "Please, baby, fuck."

"Please, what, Hermosa?" Javi smirked, peppering more soft kisses to your sensitive nub, knowingly driving you wild.

"T-touch me, baby, please. Please, don't fucking tease me, I just- Fuck-"

Before you could finish your plea, Javi had his head buried between your thighs, lapping you up like a man lost in the desert, finally finding his oasis. Long, flat strokes of his tongue swiped against your clit, already working at an unforgiving pace, ready to make you fall apart for him over and over.

Your hand shot down, digging your fingers through the thick, brown locks of Javi's hair, trying to find any way to brace yourself as an all too familiar tingle began to build in your spine as your sensitive bundle of nerves throbbed against his tongue.

You were convinced there wasn't a man on the face of this earth who loved eating you out more than Javi, riding a serotonin high every time he settled his mouth between your parted legs, worshiping your pussy until it wept for him like a dam finally breaking its seal and flooding him with your slick.

As if you weren't close enough already, Javi slid two of his fingers into your entrance bumping up perfectly against the sweet spot inside you, curling just enough to send you moments away from spiraling.

Without faltering his pace, Javi's lips latched around your clit, sucking intensely while his fingers pulsed at the perfect rhythm, feeling your pussy flutter around him.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck!" You threw your head back, orgasm rushing through you forcing your cunt to clamp down around Javi's fingers, slick gushing around them. Javi's strong grip held your legs in place, trembling with pleasure as you came, letting you catch your breath as your chest heaved while you came down from your high.

Javi placed a soft kiss on your sensitive clit before tossing your legs off his shoulders to stand, hands cupping your jaw to lock your lips in a passionate kiss, the tangy taste of you still fresh on his tongue.

"Turn around, mi amor." Javi cooed, gently letting his hands down your body, running over the swell of your stomach until he reached your hips, guiding you to face the edge of the counter until your forearms were resting on the ledge, bare ass pressed against the bulge straining against the denim of his jeans.

You craned your neck over your shoulder to see Javi frantically working at his belt, metal quietly clanging until a swift tug had his pants and boxers pooled around his ankles. You let out an audible moan as you felt his tip swipe through your folds, collecting your arousal to coat his cock, stroking himself with the mix of your slick and his precum.

"Fuck, you're so perfect," Javi whispered, pressing a kiss onto your shoulder and trailing the pecks of his lips up your back and neck, "So fucking beautiful carrying our baby." One of your hands shot back, grabbing at Javi's waist to brace yourself as he pushed into your heat, shaft filling you up inch by inch until he had bottomed out, hips flushed with your ass.

The sweet stretch and sting of Javi's length had you reeling, your sensitivity from your last orgasm on top of the already increased sensitivity from new waves of hormones, jaw going slack at the sensation of his fullness, greedily pushing your ass back into him to take as much as you could.

"Move, baby, fuck- please," You whimpered, bracing yourself against the counter, grinding your bottom half into his hips to do anything to ease your ache, "Javi, fuck me baby, please, I- oh fuck-"

Before you could finish your plea, Javi was beginning to pound into you at an already punishing pace, punching into you g-spot in a way that made your eyes nearly roll in the back of your head.

"You want me to fuck you, Momma? I'll fuck you, hermosa. Whatever you want, baby, you know I'll give it to you." Javi smirked, fingers digging into the curve of where your hips meet the meat of your ass, thrusting into you with thick drags of his cock, intoxicated by the warmth and wetness of your velvety walls.

Releasing the grip of one of his hands, he wrapped it around your front, splayed as it slid down the curve of your belly to reach between your legs, rubbing firm circles into your clit.

You couldn't help but buck back into him, feeling your stomach swirl with arousal and anticipation of your impending orgasm beginning to build, the combination of the snap of Javi's hips and pressure against your sensitive nub making you feel like you were melting under his touch.

"Fuck, Javi- Fuck, oh my god. Fuck, you feel so good. Oh shit- don't stop, baby." You moaned, feeling your pussy starting to flutter around his cock as he continued to fuck into you, your borderline incoherent babbling only egging him on more as his thrusts became faster.

"I won't stop, pretty girl. I won't stop until I fuck you so full of me, you'll be dripping out of me for days. Fuck- I won't stop until give you as many fucking babies as you want." Javi grunted, gritting his teeth as he rammed into you, feeling the knot beginning to tighten in his own stomach at the thought alone of being able to get you pregnant again.

With his one hand still rubbing your clit, his other arm scooped around your front, pulling you from resting your weight on your forearms against the counter to have you stand up straight, your back flushed against his chest. With you pressed against him, Javi couldn't help but suck and nip at your pulse point, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he pulled you in closer, holding you steady while your body began to tremble on the brink collapse.

"I know you're close, baby. It's alright, mi amor, I've got you. Wanna feel you soak me. Cum all over my cock before I fill you up." Javi groaned, his words hot against your skin between kisses along your neck and shoulder blade, shifting his grasp to cup one of your swollen breasts in his palm, fingers gently toying with the hardened buds of your nipples.

The added sensation was all it took to send you over the edge, orgasm crashing through your body with an unforgiving wave of intensity, pleasure radiating through every inch of you as your cunt clamped down around Javi's cock, gushing with your arousal as you came.

Knowing you had reached your end, Javi began to chase his own high, his thrusts becoming sloppier and more erratic as your body melded with his, nearly going limp in his grasp from how good he had made you feel.

"That's my girl. Fuck, I can't wait to get you pregnant again, let everyone see how you're all mine carrying our baby. Gonna be such a good Mom, giving us a family, making me a dad. Oh fuck- I love you so much. So fucking much. Te am- ahhhhhh, fuck!"

Before he could finish his thought, Javi was spilling inside you, the hot ropes of his spend coating your walls, a low groan humming deep in his chest as he filled you with every last drop he had to give. Javi's body slumped into yours, his head resting on your shoulder as both of your chests rose and fell with heavy breaths, hearts racing in sync as you came down from your highs.

Carefully slipping his softening cock out of your heat, you could feel the mix of your spend smearing between your thighs and dripping down your legs as Javi grabbed your waist, turning you to face him so your mouths could meet in a still messy dance of tongues and teeth.

"Holy fuck..." You huffed, finally managing to get a word out through your breathlessness and giggles, looking up at Javi, blissed out grins stretched across both your faces.

"Holy fuck..." Javi parroted, the two of you happily giggling half naked in your kitchen, the both of you staring down at your stomach as Javi rested his hands to cradle your bump.

"This one's not even here yet, and you're already thinking about number two?" You snickered, raising an eyebrow at your husband, gently tracing circles with his thumb around your stomach.

"Huh?"

"Don't think I didn't hear what you said. Let's get this one first, then we can think about another one." You teased, giving Javi a little nudge as his cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment, sheepishly darting his eyes towards the ground.

"Sorry, I- I just, God, something about you being pregnant- drives me fucking crazy. I love both of you so fucking much, I swear." Javi sighed, soft smile spread between his cheeks, eyes glancing back and forth between your bump and equally happy grin stretched across your face.

"We love you too, Javi." Pressing up on your toes, you planted a soft kiss on Javi's cheek, draping your hand across his, resting happily on your stomach. "Listen, if you want baby number two, you gotta help me finish cookin' baby number one. And baby number one is hungry. Do we have anymore sour-"

"Sour gummy worms? I picked some more up on the way home from work yesterday."

"Oh thank God, I was about to go drive to the store pantsless to get some if we didn't. Fuck, I wonder if we still have-"

"Watermelon? Got that and green grapes too, just in case." Javi chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss into your messy hair.

"God, I love you." You beamed, making your way towards the pantry, "You keep this up and we're makin' baby number two on an expedited timeline there, Jav."

"Sour gummy worms and watermelon is all it's gonna take?"

"Like I really needed that much convincing anyways? I told you earlier, making babies with you is one of my favorite things to do. Sour gummy worms and watermelon is just a nice bonus."

Taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @purpleprincess75 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

@purpleprincess75

[generalsmemories]

sensitive

✧ sunday x gn!reader

✧ synopsis: the wings by his ears are far too sensitive for what you're both about to do to them.

✧ contents: just a lil scenario for the piercings on sunday's wings. and the hc (that has probs become every writers canon take) that his wings are oh so sensitive. established relationship, mildly suggestive cause why not, uhh, mentions of blood? sunday being utterly weak against his lover. ooc sunday cause goddamn i have NOTHING on this man.

✧ a/n: breathes in. listen i don't believe in any god but good lord i would start praying for this man if he asked me to.

jing yuan wips still in order, i just want to be on my best self mentally when writing for my eepy general so have this brainrot so i can function this week at my work and hopefully i'll write something more <3 thank you once again for your patience!

NOT BETA-READ THIS WAS WRITTEN WITHIN AN HOUR CAUSE THIS BRAINROT HAS BEEN BREWING INSIDE THE MIND FOR A MONTH, IM SORRY FOR THE ALL OVER THE PLACE WORDS - I HAVEN'T WRITTEN SINCE THE LAST JING YUAN ANGST PIECE.

Your fingertips have barely grazed the very edges of the feathers when the distinguished leader beneath you flinches in surprise. The fingers that grip your hips tightening further which causes your body that was previously hovering above him to settle down on Sunday's leg. You can hear a tiny sigh leaving his lips before you feel his head rest against your shoulder, the action causing you to chuckle.

"The longer you delay this, the more nervous you'll get, you know?" you muse, threading your fingers through his hair in an effort to coax him to lay back in the same position he previously was in. You're barely able to touch his right wing again before a gloved hand shoots up from his side and you feel a sharp nip at your neck in warning - causing you to immediately halt all of your actions.

"It would've gone a lot faster have you decided to not do it in such an orthodox method, dear." Sunday retaliates with a sigh, pecking the bite mark as some sort of apology, an apology that you knew was not sincere in the slightest.

You giggle once again, settling down comfortably on his legs whilst slightly leaning back to fully look at your lover. Your arms loop over his neck while cocking your head to the side in slight confusion, although said confusion doesn't reach your mischievous eyes or the huge grin on your face. "Why I thought this would help calm you? It was your idea to pierce these wings of yours after all," you remind him, tapping the piercing gun that you're currently holding onto on his shoulder.

The man before you sighs, seemingly in exasperation over your usual antics whilst shrugging away the piercing gun that you're continuously tapping him with. You can however clearly see the slight reddening on top of his ears, while his wings tuck a bit behind his ears - clearly a signal that he's feeling a bit embarrassed.

"You're well aware of the effect you have on me, my love." he admits, the hand on your hip moving from its spot to instead rest against your neck. "Hmm? Then I suggest that you hurry along to let me pierce your wings before said effect makes you lose your patience," you tease with a quiet laugh. "I do have a lot of experience with this lil' gun of ours after all." you cheekily say - causing Sunday to direct his gaze towards your own ears, which have a few more piercings than your average person.

"... I'm well aware." Sunday replies.

Well aware of how sensitive your own ears are, almost as sensitive as his own wings that have yet to be pierced. He could let out a breath beside them which causes you to tremble, a small peck would make you gasp softly, but if he were to use his tongue-

"You're thinking of inappropriate things again, dear." you mutter into his ears before unlooping your arms from his neck to rest against your sides, your whole weight supported by the singular hand Sunday has on your hip.

"Hardly."

For someone not of Halovian descent, you're somehow able to discern his thoughts immediately - quite a hassle to be honst.

"Well then, my dear? Why don't you relax so we can get this over with so you can return to your duties?" you whisper, moving your body to sit between his legs so that you can get a closer look on his right wing, where he preferred the piercing to be on.

"... Just- don't say anything when you're about to do- Ah!"

The single clicking noise of the needle piercing his wing before retracting back to it's original spot makes Sunday jolt in surprise, the grip on your hip increasing in pressure, but you're too busy looking at the placement in glee to care for your distraught lover right now.

You notice the edges of the piercing reddening a bit, extending your finger to gather the tiny bits of blood that had escaped from the wound. Glancing at Sunday, you notice his slightly glossy eyes that immediately diverts from your gaze.

The quiet laugh you let out makes Sunday glare at you, but his eyes widen slightly when you lick his blood away from your fingertips with closed eyes. "It wasn't that bad, was it?" you ask, opening your eyes again to lock eyes with Sunday, diverting your gaze slightly to his right wing.

You decide not to comment on his glossy eyes, deciding to instead scoot closer to peck the corner of his eyes, "Sorry that I surprised you, but as you said - Doing it this way is far more convenient for the both of us," you explain, lips pressing against Sunday's to coax him into relaxation.

"Mhm, thank you for indulging me, dove." he whispers, arms wrapping around your waist, the tension in his shoulders finally leaving.

"Although..." you murmur in between various pecks against Sunday's lips, your lover raising an eyebrow up in confusion and imploring you to continue speaking.

"I think you said you would go for 2 of the same piercings if the first one looked nice, no?" you say before pressing your lips against his once again. Sunday was barely able to understand the meaning behind your words before he could feel the same pain of the needle shoot through his already overly-sensitive wing.

The loud gasp he lets out is swallowed by your lips, his open mouth letting your tongue slip inside while the piercing gun in your hand slips away from your lips now that you've done your part of the deal. Your hands settle themselves against Sunday's cheeks now- wiping away the few tears that have now slipped down from his glossy eyes with your thumb.

There's a certain desperation in Sunday's hands by your waist. He had first bunched the material of your clothes upwards by surprise, but now he's slipping his gloved hands beneath them and quickly traveling further up - he moves in a way that you don't know if he's trying to push you away to scold you, or press you closer to him to feel your warmth.

He eventually decides to push you away. His cheeks are reddened and he's heaving for breaths while he's glaring down at you in mild disappointment and a hint of excitement - and yet the hands that's dragging the buttons of your shirt from inside to snap them open tells another desire from the esteemed leader of Penacony.

The same mischievous smile is present on your lips when you part ways, your lips are a bit swollen but it doesn't stop their journey from grazing against his now incredibly sensitive right wing, the jerk of his entire body not bothering you in the slightest as your lips glide over his feathers, your lover shuddering a bit when you let out a breath right over his newly pierced wings.

"All done now, my love," you mutter into his ear, shrugging off your now ruined shirt off of one shoulder, "Do I get any reward for doing this so smoothly and quickly?"

Sunday lets out a scoff, rolling his eyes at your triumphant expression before shoving you down onto the couch the two of you were previously resting on. "I'm thinking a punishment is more fitting for how you didn't warn me of your actions twice, no?"

[jamminvroomvroom]

Now hear me out… Lando with a daddy kink. I rest my case (and send in my request).

heart to heart.

ln x fem!reader

in which you’re heartbroken and lando knows exactly what you’ve always wanted.

oh, anon. how i love you. ngl haven’t written this trope much before so this was a baby-steps attempt… but it’s intense smut lmao. keep sending in requests guys, i’m getting through them (slowly)!! anyways enjoy, love you, tell me what you think <3

songs to set the mood: heart to heart by mac demarco

warnings: 18+ minors DNI!! smut, language, daddy kink (help), breeding kink (lord forgive me), friends to lovers (implied), mentions of cheating (not reader or lando), dom!lando, sub!reader

1.4k words

you’ve been friends for years.

sometimes it felt like the door was open for more, only to be quickly slammed shut when a cute barista handed you his number, or when lando slid into a bikini models dm’s. bottom line: it never ended up crossing that line and becoming more.

you’re crying on his couch when the line finally blurs.

“i just- i just thought…” you choke out a sob that cuts you off.

“what, honey?” lando coos, brushing some damp hairs away from your streaming eyes.

“i thought i’d marry him. how stupid is that?” you whimper. this is the worst breakup you’d gone through to date, and just like when anything goes wrong, lando is there with a spare shoulder for you to cry on. he always knew that your ex was a piece of shit but his warnings fell on deaf ears. “we talked about kids and houses. he asked me my fucking ring size.” you spat. all of this happened, of course, before you found out he’d been cheating on you with his boss’s assistant.

“you’re not stupid, honey.” lando pulls you in closer to his side.

you stay there for a while, letting the tears fall until there are no more left to cry and your face is drying up. your head rests on his shoulder, and when you turn it to look up at him, he’s already looking down at you.

pink lips are parted, slicked with a swipe of his tongue. two blue eyes turned to an icy grey dart between your own lustful pair and your lips, parted only to expel shallow, shaky breaths.

“kids and a nice big lawn, is that what you want?” he whispers. you shift against the couch, trying to hide the shiver the low gravelly tone of his voice shoots down your spine.

“mhm.” you nod slightly, sinking into his side and his eyes.

time speeds up for a moment; the hand he has wrapped around you finds your waist, and somehow he manoeuvres you onto his lap. it feels odd. odd, because it’s right. it’s new and yet it feels… familiar.

“why’d you waste all that time with those assholes, hm?” his voice is mocking, and your knees squeeze around his hips. “could’ve given you all that years ago. fucked a baby into you and put a nice, shiny ring on this finger.” lando pulls your ring finger between his lips, holding eye contact as he swirls his tongue around the digit. you tremble against him, his filthy words almost sending you slack against him.

“didn’t know you wanted me.” you pant.

“i’m gonna do things to you that will make sure that you never doubt me again.”

and he does.

you’re crying on his mattress, overstimulated, yet desperate for more. these are the only kind of tears he ever wants you to cry. he’s been between your legs for what feels like so long that hours could have passed and you wouldn’t question a thing. his tongue works over and over your throbbing clit and your hands rake through tangled curls.

“lando, please.” you chant, over and over again. you don’t know what you’re asking him for, but he seems to get it, because he doesn’t stop.

two fingers find your entrance, sodden with the remnants of more orgasms than you can count. in slides one, twisting deliciously before it’s joined by the second. you ascend, pretty much instantly, so overwhelmed by how good he’s managed to make you feel. your orgasm builds too quickly, and you’re dripping down his wrist before you can even tell him you’re close.

lando chuckles, tongue tracing the mess you’ve left as he shuffles on his knees between your legs. then, he’s hovering over you, balancing on one of his forearms whilst his other hand traces the curve of your body.

“having fun, honey?” he bumps his nose against yours, lips meeting yours a brief second later. it feels as good and as right the first time he kissed you earlier, and he licks into your mouth, deep and sensual. you moan into the kiss when you taste yourself on his tongue.

you can feel his cock brushing against your folds and you melt into the mattress, keening at his the feeling of him everywhere. your shaky hands skim his torso, feeling every dip and ridge under your fingertips. golden skin tenses, rippling flesh taut against your palms. your hips buck into his.

“tell me what you want, honey. need to hear you say it.”

“fuck me.” you mutter, rolling your hips once more. the angle you create means that his cock catches your folds and you can’t help but whine his name.

“how?” lando smirks, your chin trapped between his fingers. he makes you look at him, and you curse yourself for not doing this sooner.

“what you said earlier…” you choke out, trailing off.

“what did i say earlier?” he tease. you groan in frustration.

“please, lando.” you’re too hot, blush stains your cheeks and your neck.

“is my sweet girl getting shy?” he pecks your lips, kisses down your neck. when he reaches your ear, he tugs on the lobe. all you can feel is sharp teeth and warm breath. everything is slick.

“it’s okay, honey.” lando continues. “i remember. remember those wide eyes and pouty lips when i told you what i can give you. gonna make me a daddy, baby? finally gonna be mine?” he whispers, right into your ear. all you see is white.

finally.

“daddy.” you pant, when he finally slides into you, hard and deep.

“that’s it, baby.” lando grunts, hooking your thigh over his hip. you can feel the way his fingers dig in to your flesh, stopping him from falling apart instantly. his other hand takes your wrists, pushes them up the mattress until they’re pinned right above your head and he’s hovering over you, perfectly level. chest to chest, heart to heart.

shallow thrusts aid the deep grind of his hips, rolling slowly into yours. he’s everywhere, nothing separating your needy, flushed bodies. he never pulls all the way out, stays buried as deep as he can, and repeatedly hits that spot inside of you that allows you to see every star in the sky. you’re breathless, soundless, utterly helpless as you drown in him and everything he has to offer you.

you wonder if he’ll actually spill into you, mark you as his. it makes you dizzy, makes you shake, the idea of nothing stopping him from making such a mess between your spread legs. you want to beg for it but you can’t, the raging, wet pleasure in the pit of your belly rendering you speechless. all you manage is a dry plea of half of his name.

“lan-“ you begin, but he kisses the rest of the word out of his mouth.

“no, honey, that’s not my name.” he rasps, talks down to you in a way that pushes you even closer to sweet release.

“daddy. want you to be daddy.” you slur.

the reaction you get from him is worth every heartache you’ve ever suffered. his rhythm changes and now he’s slamming into you, and the sensation makes you cry some more, thick tears sliding down your neck which he tastes, licks away.

but then everything is soaking. you gush around him and his abs glisten. your throat burns from the scream, and then there’s silence, just for a moment.

“fucking hell.” he shudders, transfixed on the thin layer of you that seems to be everywhere.

he’s wrapped around you tight when he lets go, muttering unintelligible filth in your ear as he does. you stay intertwined for a moment, trying to piece together what you’d just done.

when lando eventually rolls off of you, he takes every inch of you in, a beautiful canvas covered in a memory. his eyes are warm again, soft. whatever had possessed him is long gone and he’s just lando again. your lando.

you attempt to wriggle across the mattress, seeking refuge in your forgotten pile of clothes on the floor. he stops you in your feeble attempts to peel your lifeless body off of his bed.

“hey, it’s okay, honey. let me look after you.” he coos, gentle sitting you up. “you okay?”

“thank you.” you whisper. your lips meet, fleetingly, delicate.

“‘m gonna take care of you, baby.” he promises. you believe him.

-

i don’t know what came over me lmao whoops

-

taglist

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removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon Commission for anon :)

One more

Minotaur (Ambrose) x chubby fem!reader || oral sex, dirty talk, dom/sub, chocking (lightly), degradation, humiliation (lightly), semi-public sex, overstimulation, squirting, size kink

You were once again bothering him (even though he insisted you weren’t a bother) in the tattoo studio.

Ambrose didn’t have any more sessions today, so you were going to go watch a movie and maybe grab some dinner. Just normal friends’ stuff. Normal friends who were completely normal about each other. Nothing weird going on. You weren’t in love with him or anything… Okay, maybe you were. Maybe you’ve been lusting after him for as long as you could remember, and he’d been ignoring it. Or maybe not? You weren’t sure about it. But you’d been teasing for so long that it was just natural at that point.

He was just going around his room, getting everything sorted out before you could leave. His back was to you, and you couldn’t avoid looking at his short tail moving from one side to another in almost a stimmy way. He looked magnificent from the back, that round ass and huge back, those muscles moving under his thin shirt and good lord the horns… You didn’t know you had a thing about horns until you meet him a couple years back.

You walked into that tattoo studio looking for someone to do your tongue piercing and he was the one for the job. Never mind you almost swallowed your own tongue when you saw that hot piece of beef exiting the back and had onto hold into the counter in front of you not to faint as all your blood rushed south in the most intense wave of arousal you’d ever felt.

You thought that arousal and lust would fade as you got to know him better, but it didn’t, it only got worse and worse as you became friends. It was infuriating at that point. You knew you were a tease, and you teased a lot of people, but it was different with him, you wanted something to come out of it, even if he didn’t feel the same way… right?

You came back from your walk to memory lane to hear Ambrose hum your favorite song under his breath, making you smile so big it was almost painful. So you did what you did best: you teased him. You couldn’t hold yourself from reaching out and pulling on his tail, something that made him twitch and grunt, which in response made your panties so wet… So you did every time you could.

He turned around for a second, grunting like he always did as you bit your lip not to groan out loud. That would be embarrassing. “Stop teasing or I’ll make you,” he told you almost in a joking way as he got back to sort the equipment.

You fidgeted with your fingers, and almost on autopilot you answered: “Make me.” His reaction was instant.

He turned around with his eyes dark, so dark you could barely see his iris anymore. He approached you like a minotaur on a mission, with each step forward you took a step back until your back was against the wall and you had Ambrose’s hard big body against yours. His hand found your neck, collaring you still, soft and tender, but not letting you move at the same time. Your panties got drenched so fast even you were surprised. He sniffed the air and grunted, like if he could smell how hot that made you. You whined almost imperceptibly, and he lowered his head to be at eye level with your much smaller frame.

“That is enough. Don’t play with fire, darling, or you’ll get burned.” You knew that was a threat, but he was tempting you with a good time and you couldn’t avoid your bratty nature even if you wanted.

“What if I like the fire?” His hand tightened a fraction of a millimeter and you whined again, louder this time.

He growled and launched. You were expecting a lot of things, but him leaning forward and devouring your mouth was not one of them. Your hands found his horns without you even realizing, as you gave back as much as he was giving you. It was a desperate kiss, filled with pent up tension and a need so deep you could feel it in your veins. You were grabbing his horns with force, trying to get him as close as possible, but there was no way your tiny frame could move such a big monster, but you would die trying if you had to.

His hands found your body, caressing your tummy, squeezing your thigh, he was everywhere at the same time, his hands groping and caressing, squeezing and proving, and you were so desperate your head was light-headed. And you did what you always did: you bite down on his lower lip so hard you tasted his blood as he pulled back, breathing hard. His hair was a mess because of you and his eyes were so dark you couldn’t see his green irises anymore. Fucking hell, he looked obscene.

“Did you just bite me?” He asked, almost surprised. “Darling, I thought what they said about you being a vampire was a lie…” He joked, making you giggle. You didn’t know why he was surprised, you’d bitten him before, it was your thing and he always grunted and pushed your forehead away softly when you did it, a big smile on his lips. But this time he wasn’t smiling, the smile that broke on his lips was predatory and made your insides turn with anticipation. So you did it again, leaning forward and biting right over his pec, your lower teeth caught in the piercings of his nipples. “Ouch! Why did you do that again?!” He asked, faking hurt as he rubbed the spot you just bite.

You looked up at him defiantly. “Because I can,” you teased further. “What are you going to do about it?” Your inner brat was screaming in delight as you said that, a smirk so big in your mouth it was hurting your cheeks.

“Fucking brat,” he cursed you without any malice, his hand grabbing your hair and pulling slightly, making you groan. “I’m going to give you something so your mouth is full.” Just as his words left his mouth you were panting.

But you were still you, so you had to tease him some more. “Oh, yeah? And what is that? Going to give me some blood?” You continued the joke he made, your teasing tone making the corner of his mouth twitch, almost breaking the whole hard dom he was trying to portray.

He frowned and pulled at your hair with a bit more force, making you moan like a slut. You tried to cover your mouth, but he stopped your hand mid air. “Kneel,” he ordered. Your knees got weak and almost gave out under you.

You weren’t going to give up so easy, though. “No.”

“Kneel or you won’t find out,” he told you, making the gears in your brain start to turn and twist trying to figure out what he was talking about.

And you had to ask. “Find out what?”

“Kneel and find out.” Damn him, he knew all your weak spots, and wanting to know stuff was one of them. So you keeled in front of him, which left you a bit lower than his huge bulge. You were about to comment on it when he started talking. “I dreamed about you, you know? I dreamed about your bratty mouth wrapped around my dick until you were whimpering around it, asking without words for me to fuck your face, to use you like a slut… And now what are you? Exactly that. A filthy slut for me to play with.” You groaned, your mouth open as you panted. It was like he knew what words to use exactly to make you a mess without even getting naked. “And now you are going to do that. You are going to be a good little slut and let me fuck your mouth,” you moaned, looking up at him between your eyelashes and opening your mouth.

He took out his dick and you gasped, there was no way that thing was going to fit inside of your mouth, or your pussy. “There’s... there’s no way…” You stuttered, starting to feel concerned about it.

“Oh sunshine, it will,” he answered simply.

His hand grabbed around his shaft and he rubbed the tip over your lips, leaving a glistening imprint that made you want to faint. And there were no more words from you anymore, he grabbed your chin with his free hand and forced your mouth open, rubbing his tip against your open lips again and again, until you were so desperate to get it inside that you took it in your own hands and licked over his tip, making him grunt, his hand flying to your short hair and pulling.

“Did I say you could do that? Sluts get what they are given, they don’t take stuff for themselves, do they?” He asked and you looked down. “No, no. Don’t look down now, are you embarrassed?” You nodded. “Good, I know you like to be a pretty little slut and act all coy, but embarrassment turns you on, doesn’t it?” You were about to answer when he pushed forward. Not much, just the tip of his dick fitting inside your mouth until your hand was full and your lips felt the stretch. “Now suck until I’m messy… We don’t want your pussy to be in pain, do we?”

You didn’t even try to answer this time, you got to it instantly. Your saliva coating his dick messily. He couldn’t go much further than that, but you did all you could with that. You sucked and licked at his tip, your tongue focusing on the underside that made him throw his head back and his horns almost hit the ceiling light. He was in control, but you felt so powerful you were giddy with it. He started a slow pace, going in and out of your mouth in tiny fractions, fucking your mouth in the most possessive and tender way ever. You could feel your drool getting everywhere, your makeup was probably ruined as he grunted over you, making your pussy so wet you feared you would have to burrow some kind of covers for your pants because they were going to be ruined too.

By the time his dick was glistening with your saliva and your jaw was starting to ache, he pulled back, his breathing was uneven and he looked wild and feral, and that made your pussy tingle with anticipation. He grabbed you by your waist and pulled you up, manhandling you until you were back on the tattoo chair.

He took his shirt off and then did the same with yours. Your boobs sprung free, you hadn’t been able to wear a bra because of the piercings he did a few months back. You tried to trick him into saying something for a long time, sending him “healing pics” that were a lot more risky and teasing that you would send to any other artist. You didn’t fucking care, it felt great taking those dirty pics for him to see, the idea of him getting hard seeing them… the idea of him keeping them for later… That made your blood boil and your insides clench. You knew it was probably filthy of you to feel that way, but the embarrassment only made you hotter.

And right then, when he finally looked at your boobs and smiled like a madman, you moaned, he looked crazy with desire and that only made you more aroused. “I’ve been waiting to see your boobs for so fucking long.” He was talking to you but it almost felt like he was talking to your tits, his eyes fixated on them with such intensity that you felt like he was staring right into your soul. “And I mean truly see them, not like technical and professional, not like those dirty pics you send me just to make sure they were healing properly.” And when your pierced nipples got hard under his stare and he grunted, launching for your nipple to suck it in his mouth, you moaned in such high pitched tone that he looked up, amused.

But then you had to say it: “I- I thought you didn’t like them,” you stuttered as he licked one nipple and pinched the other. One of your boobs was bigger than the other, and it always made you so self-conscious...

He stopped his ministrations of your nipples to look up at you. “Why would you think that? Are you stupid?” He was staring at you expecting a response, his hair was messy and was making your brain all kinds of unfocused. He should stop looking that good if he wanted you to form coherent words.

But you tried because you really, really needed him to keep going. “I- They are uneven and, and… I don’t know, okay? I sent you all those pics trying to get a reaction out of you but you didn’t say anything and, and, and… I don’t know,” you finished.

“You thought those pics didn’t do anything to me?” He looked offended by that statement. “I know you, sunshine, and I know how to recognize a slut when I see one. And those pics in the bathroom with your blue pleading eyes and tiny hands grabbing your boobs… You were driving me insane on purpose. And now you are going to pay for it.” You hear his words before you heard the ripping of fabric as he literally ripped your pants off. Why was that so hot, oh lord, you were about to faint because of lack of blood in your brain, but he didn’t stop there. “You thought you’d be teasing me forever? You thought I would let you be all free and unfucked? Think again, darling. Your pussy belongs to me, and It’s about time I claim it.” His growl reverberated through your body as he leaned down and licked your whole pussy in one long swipe of drooling mess. You cried out.

And because didn’t matter what you were a little shit, you said: “Do it then, for now those are only words…”

You knew instantly how bad of a choice that was. His eyes got dark and he pushed your legs up to his shoulders, the tip of his dick at your entrance as his hand pressed down on your pubic mound, his thumb rubbing your clit as he pressed forward.

“I don’t know if it will fit, you are so tight, fuck.” He cursed as he pushed in a tortuous pace. “I knew you’d slutty pussy would be this tight, you are fucking perfect. So good for me, so needy and desperate, so ready to fight but so easily turned into a messy slut. I knew you’d be like that.” His words made your insides clench and he grunted, feeding your hungry pussy more of his cock.

“Ambroseeee,” you cried out his name as he pulled up your hips and his dick found your G-spot, making you see stars and galaxies.

“Just like that sunshine, scream my name louder… Let everybody else know how good I make you feel, how much of a slut you are for my minotaur cock.” Only then you registered that there were more people at the studio, that they were probably hearing how you were getting pounded into next dimension by a big minotaur. Fuck, that made it better.

“Ambroseeeee,” you screamed again, your head thrown back as he bottomed out and instantly pulled out and back inside.

He started a frantic pace, fucking into you like you were just a fleshlight and he was desperate to fill you completely. Your brain was completely fried, you couldn’t have a single thought as his hips pistoned into yours. His dick was so big it was hitting all your pleasure points at every thrust, and you knew you were ruined for anybody else.

He fucked you through your first orgasm, not stopping when you cried out in overstimulation. Your pussy was messy, your juices gushing out with every thrust of his hips, and it felt like heaven as he continued.

You came twice more before you started whining and begging, you didn’t know if you could do it anymore, you couldn’t form the proper words to express it, but you didn’t need to. “One more, sunshine. Give me one more so I can finally fill you to the brim as you deserve.” He told you.

You screamed his name again and tried to form some coherent thought: “I- I can’t. Please, Ambrose, I can’t have another one,” you cried. Tears blurring your vision as he kept fucking into you. The pleasure was so high and so intense you didn’t know where your body ended and his began.

“You’ve been teasing me forever, and now you are going to give me as much as I want. So, I repeat: One. More.” He punctuated each word with a thrust, his hips meeting you at an agonizing pace as he fucked right into your G-spot.

He pushed your legs up, your knees against your ears and started fucking into you like a piston, the new posture making you see stars, the milky way, the whole fucking universe. You couldn’t stop chanting his name as he fucked into you like a feral minotaur. This angle made his pubic bone hit right over your clit and you couldn’t even process moans anymore, your head thrown back as you drooled like a the messy slut he called you.

“Come for me, dirty little slut, come for me one more time,” he ordered with pointed thrusts.

And then you felt it, the release inside of you that indicated your pleasure ascended too much, that you were beyond turning point as he fucked into you and you squirted all over him. Your body thrashed under him as he pressed against you harder, holding you down completely as you made an utter mess of both of you and he thrust a couple more times before you felt his release hitting deep inside. And kept coming. And coming. And coming some more until your body was shivering with aftershocks and his come was dripping around his still buried dick inside of you.

You stayed like that for a long time. He cleaned you out and kissed your forehead as you whimpered and groaned, unable to form any kind of words after such an intense session. He left the room for a couple seconds and you could hear him telling someone else he would close the store and laughing when they congratulated him on finally getting you. You blushed, your body still limp over the tattoo chair.

When he came back and you regained a fraction of your working brain, you had to ask: “So… Does this all mean you are into me?”

He looked at you with utter surprise and like you were stupid at the same time. “Are you kidding me? Do I need to fuck you like a dumb slut again until you get the hint?” He said, his tone amused as he leaned down and kissed you so deeply you ended up whimpering against his mouth. He pulled back with a smile: “Stop that or I’ll really fuck you again, and I don’t think your poor human pussy can take it… yet.” The last word made your body tingle with promises he would definitely be able to meet.

And when a few months later he asked you to design a tattoo for him so you’ll be in his skin as well as in his soul, you almost melted right there. (And then proceeded to suck him off until he hit the wall with his horns and made a hole).

Reminder that tier "monster fucker" on Patreon get a commission every two months, so one the month you subscribe, another the third month... (more info here).

[tyunni]

┈➤ I LIKE YOU SO MUCH!!! (when ENHYPEN like you...)

enhypen masterlist | library

genre: fluff, fluff, fluff! warnings: i'm not sure if any specific gender is mentioned but keep in mind i do tend to usually write fem!reader, enha r kinda losers, mentions of being drunk in jakes part, isnt proofread so if you see any mistakes.... oh well! wc: 2.6k+

a/n: good lord, i haven't written anything in MONTHS so i'm a bit rusty 😭 i started writing maknae line first im p sure you can tell i put more effort in them and then i started getting tired, sorry😭😭😭

☆ — LEE HEESEUNG

who would've thought the cool, the chill, the awesome lee heeseung would end up being such a loser. a lovestruck, foolishly in love loser.

your fingers lightly grazed his hand when you walked past him in the hallway today, a touch that lasted a mere second, yet heeseung's heart exploded, and so did his friends' group chat when he boasted about your interaction like you had just asked his hand in marriage. he knows being lovesick is lame, but so what?! he can't help that he melts into a pink puddle of adoration whenever you make small talk, or when he closes his eyes an image of you pops into his head and makes his palms feel sweaty. yes, he feels his knees go weak at the mere mention of your name, and he's willing to endure his younger friends teasing him every time they spot you hanging out with your own group of friends.

so what if you're the only thing on his mind every second of his day. it's completely normal to make playlists for your crush, giggle, and roll around in your bed when you let the lyrics sink in and fill your head with the thoughts of the one you desire.

it's also totally normal of him to write down little compliments on a piece of paper and put them on your desk when you're not looking. he giggles like a little girl when you open the note and read not even a third fraction of what heeseung truly thinks of you and wishes to tell you one day. his smile grows wider when you finally read the initials written on the note, LHS, and you look over to his desk with your cheeks dusted pink, widened eyes looking into heeseung's.

(rest of the members under the cut!!)

☆ — PARK JONGSEONG

jay is very fond of you, he accepted that quite quickly. you're cute. he likes cute stuff, that's something new he has discovered since he started to fancy you.

"jay, are you serious?" - riki turned towards the older with a blank face, tired of his friends new shopping addiction, - "you have like 4 hello kitty stuffed toys in your bedroom, you don't need another one."

ah, innocent, naive riki. he doesn't know having a crush makes one forget about any form of rationality and make every decision without giving it another thought. jay is the number one victim of the 'everything reminds me of them' disease, he feels every wrinkle of his brain smoothen whenever he thinks of you, so it's not a surprise that he can't control his hand as he swipes his credit card and buys himself another plushie with a lovestruck grin on his face.

"are you even listening to me?" - the younger complains, jabbing jay's arm with his elbow to get at least a little reaction out of him. if anything else but you were on jay's mind this would've worked and he would've scolded riki by now, talking his ear off about how annoying he is, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes at his childishness. but it doesn't work.

"you're such a cheeseball, y/n has made you soft, jay, she's ruining you!"

but riki's words fall on deaf ears the second jay's eyes land on another cute stuffed animal that had reminded him of you as he grabs his friend's arm roughly and drags him into yet another store.

☆ — SIM JAEYUN

oh, he's down bad. jake would do anything for you. yes, even walking all the way from his house to the party you were at just to pick you up and walk you home, making sure you reach your house safely.

you called him in the middle of the night, the buzzing of his phone waking jake up. he groaned at the brightness of his screen flashing his newly opened eyes, yet at the sight of your name he rubbed the sleepiness off them, quickly picking up your call.

"jake, i'm drunk!"

and that's all it took for him to jump out of his bed and run towards his destination. surely enough you were waiting outside for him, a big smile growing on your face at the sight of him.

sure, he was extremely tired and out of breath, his voice was still groggy from waking up around 10 minutes ago, the cold, chilly night yet to have its effect on him and wake him up completely, yet he still let you ride on his back when you started complaining about how your heels hurt your feet.

you had been talking to him about something, even though you had no idea what you were saying with the way your words were slurred, your voice muffled by his jacket. jake was nodding his head, humming after a few sentences to make sure you knew he was listening, even though he didn't know what he was listening to. you started off by talking about the party, and somewhere along the way you got lost in your own words and so did jake. his soft hums and the steady rhythm of his feet lulled you to sleep, and when he felt your eyelashes close against the nape of his neck, your breath falling onto his skin as your cheek rested further upon his shoulder is when he finally let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head, stopping in his tracks to close his eyes and think to himself:

"fuck, i love her, don't i?"

☆ — PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon is desperately in love with you. he can't help it, butterflies swarm his stomach when he thinks about you, a sheepish grin makes its way onto his features when you talk to him, his eyes dart across your face every chance he gets so he can burn every second spent with you right into his memory.

"sunghoon, do you think this looks good or should i try on the blue sweater?"

to be completely honest, even if you wore a trash bag he'd think you looked gorgeous, and he hadn't been paying attention to any outfit you had shown him so far, your smile which grew wider with each compliment he gave you the only thing on his mind.

"you look beautiful, y/n."

"oh, come on, sunghoon! you've been telling me this about every outfit!" - you groan, yet a grin is still plastered on your face at his sweet words, "you have to help me!"

sunghoon tries, he really tries to hold himself back. his teeth sink into his tongue in hopes of biting back the words that were about to slip out, yet they still do. and so does his little secret.

"it's not my fault i'm in love with you!"

☆ — KIM SUNOO

sunoo is a sweet guy. everyone likes him: the teachers, the students, his friends, and complete strangers. his smile is contagious, his face is soft and beautiful, his eyes crinkle up when he smiles, and he's kind, helpful, friendly. who wouldn't like him? well, you, apparently.

it's not that he's intrigued by your cold attitude towards him, he's simply determined to make you like him just like everyone else. it's quite difficult to get to know you though, you don't speak to anyone except a select few. if your friends don't come to school you usually sit alone, either mindlessly scribbling in your notebook, or sleeping. you always have that look on your face. one of pure boredom, uninterest, that "why are you even talking to me" face.

sunoo thinks it's stupid. how could you not be thrilled to talk to the people around you? how is it even possible to not want to get to know everyone, to grow your circle, have new people to talk to and share experiences with.

you know who sunoo is. everyone knows who sunoo is. when he walks past you down the hallway he's always waving at someone, stopping in his tracks a few times to have a little small talk, then quickly picking up his pace once the bell rings so he gets to make it in time for class. it doesn't matter if he's late though, the teachers adore him like he's their own son, and he hasn't gotten a single second of detention. sunoo has the sunshine privilege. that's unfair. you don't like when things are unfair. you don't like the sunshine privilege. you don't like sunoo.

so you avoid him.

but he somehow still finds his way back to you.

"she totally hates you, dude, get over it," - sunghoon groans, shoving another loaf of bread into his mouth, and threatening to shove some into sunoo's mouth so he stops talking about you for the fifth time today.

"but why?! i didn't even do anything to her, i tried talking to her every single day since she moved here, i'm nice, i'm helpful, i'm a great guy, what am i doing wrong?!" - the younger boy whines into his palms, head buried in his hands, trying to come up with a way to win you over.

one of his other friends chimes into the conversation, taking a seat in between his friends and playfully wrapping his arm around sunoo, - "it's okay, man, there must be a way to get your little crush to like you!"

sunoo whips his head towards the boy, eyebrows furrowed so deeply that you'd think they'd merge into one another any second. - "heeseung, it's not a crush!"

sunghoon chuckles at his oblivious friend, - "is too!"

"... is it?"

you are kinda cute. your attitude, although not sunoo's style, makes you look even more adorable. you have pretty lips too, although you're always frowning. he thinks you'd look better with the corners of your lips turned upwards though. he wants to see you smile. he wants to make you smile. he wants to make you his.

☆ — YANG JUNGWON

jungwon thinks he's a pretty chill guy. he's always been levelheaded. most of the time he's the only levelheaded person in the room, to be completely honest. he knows what to say and when to say it. although he resembles a cat, the saying "cat got your tongue" had never applied to him. so why is he standing in front of you, his crush, ready to have his very first conversation with you, without a single word coming out of his mouth?

"oh, hey! jungwon, right?" - you ask, sending a soft smile his way.

you know his name. you know his name. you know his name.

"huh? yeah... i'm jungwon. um..." - his confident smile fades instantly when it really sinks in that he has no idea what to say to you. he always knows what to say, how could this happen to him?! this is ridiculous. if he weren't standing in front of you right now he'd slap himself in hopes of rattling his brain somehow.

your eyebrows furrow at the awkward silence taking over, - "do you need anything, jungwon?"

his name falls past your lips so gracefully that if hearing you say his name followed with the three words he wants to say to you the most means he must sell his every worldly possession, he will. but he can't tell you that. he can't tell you how pretty your eyes are either, he can't tell you that he wants to hold your hand, or wrap his arms around you and keep you in his warm embrace for a little while. or how he wants to bury his head in the crook of your neck and bask in your warmth, or that you're the most beautiful person he has ever laid his eyes on and it'd be an honor to take you out on a date. yeah, he definitely can't say that.

"you're the most beautiful person i've ever laid my eyes on, it'd be an honor to take you out on a date..."

it's over. he's a goner.

the way you twiddle with your fingers at his confession goes completely unnoticed despite his big round eyes growing wider at his own words. he's too far gone to see how a warm smile had made its way onto your face.

"sure, i'd love to!"

it's not over. in fact, it's just getting started.

☆ — NISHIMURA RIKI

riki is quite good at hiding his crush on you, considering how the overwhelming feelings have such a weight to them that he's sure his heart doubles at the mere mention of your name to make room for the intense emotions that'll start kicking in. you two aren't dating, although he wishes you were, and you're most definitely not best friends. he knows you, you know him, you think he's nice, he thinks about you every second of every day, y'know, the usual...

"riki, hey!" - you push through the crowd of students walking around a narrow hallway that could only be described as a jar filled to the brim with tiny little ants, very studious one's at that!

his friends' heads immediately turn your way. a girl, talking to riki?! although their eyes don't stay glued on you for too long, they quickly glance at riki. the sight was hilarious, his long fingers were brushing through his disheveled hair, free hand tugging at the hem of his hoodie to smoothen out any wrinkles. there's a soft tint of pink spread across his cheeks, nothing too noticeable, although the burning red glow of his ears was far from discreet.

"y/n, hey!" - he grins, the hand combing through his hair now scratching the nape of his neck to try and play it cool... very smooth! a muffled laugh escapes from one of his friend's shut lips as their orbs dart between the boy and you.

you reach into your pocket, rummaging through the various things you keep inside. crackling of your house keys and noises of crumpled-up paper can be heard before you take out something. riki's eyes try their best to tear away from your mesmerizing features so he can see what you're trying to show him with your arm stretched towards him and a big grin on your face. he notices a little something lying on your palm. it's a duck keychain. if you were any other person he'd look at the item in your hand with a disgusted look on his face, eyebrows knitted together, eyes squinting in pure horror. but you're you. you're the love of his life. that's probably why riki can feel his heart thumping against his ribcage, a stupid smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he tries his best to fight it off, yet the inevitable happens.

"take it, it's a gift! i saw it on the way to school and it reminded me of you!"

he quickly takes the keychain from your palm, ensuring his fingers stray as far away from yours as possible. even the slightest bit of physical contact and he feels his heart will explode for good. he mumbles out a thank you before you turn on your heels and walk away, completely oblivious that the butterflies in his stomach now make their way towards his throat, making him swallow dry.

"hey, riki, what's that?" - jungwon nudges him with his elbow, eyeing the item riki's holding between his fingers. a smile makes its way onto jungwon's lips as he glances up at his friend who's currently grinning from one red ear to another, rosy cheeks like pink buttons on a sweater made with love and care.

"i thought you hated ducks," - sunoo adds, sly hands reaching towards the keychain to try and pry it out of riki's hands, but instead the tall boy clutches harder onto the item, bringing it to his chest.

"well i like this one!" - he adds, furrowing his eyebrows and glaring at his nosy friend.

riki never knew he could like ducks this much.

©tyunni please don't copy, translate or repost any of my work!

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