#like seeing all the comments asking to make them kiss

[mwphisto]

LaDs: You have a High Libido

~ inspired by an anon’s ask!

~ all love interests included

Warning, this post contains: smut, 18+ content, mentions of sex, sweat, cum, bodily fluids, you get the idea.

Xavier

⭐️He is thrilled actually, because so does he

⭐️Don’t let the sleepy tendencies fool you, Xavier is ready to go whenever (and wherever) you are

⭐️You can push him past his limits, even out do him in the horny department, and he’ll still attempt to keep up

“Again?” You’re both breathless, cheeks red and bodies sweaty. The room reeks of sex and sweat, with the comforting mix of your perfume and his cologne. The sheets are damp with your combined fluids, a variety of them for that matter. Sweat, drool, cum… definitely a wash day tomorrow! “Yes, please. I still need you Xavier.” You’ve cum so many times you’ve lost count, poor cunt so puffy that it’s a miracle you can even feel anything down there. Still, it’s aching, throbbing with need, you need him again. “Sure, baby.” And he’s on you, a worn out smile on his lips as he showers your heated skin in wet kisses. You can — and will — go until sunrise

Rafayel

🎨Rafayel’s libido on a normal day is pretty decent, he’s down whenever you are and that’s… often

🎨It takes him some time to build his stamina… unless it’s ebb day. Lemurian heat cycles are something else.

🎨He breaks before you do, but all it takes is the off hand comment of “I’ll finish myself” and he’s ready to go

“You’re tired, Raf. I’ll just go take care of—“ tired be damned, he’s hauling his sweat slicked body up and pushing you down again. “I won’t stop until you’re satisfied.” His cheeks are a permanent crimson, pupils blown wide. Even if he is exhausted, his cock is still twitching at the sight of your ruined cunt. So much cum, arousal, all just leaking down your thighs. You’ve been going at it for two hours at this point, nonstop, barely a break between each round. Even if you didn’t mean too, you’re slowly training your lover to have a libido as high as yours. “It’s okay, re-really I can—shit!” He stops all complaints by shoving himself inside, one easy, slipper go. “I’m. Not. Stopping. Until you are satisfied, cutie.”

Zayne

🩺Zayne doesn’t quite know what to do with himself at first. He’s a tad bit overwhelmed by your high libido.

🩺Give him a little time, he’ll get used to it, and slowly realize his libido is pretty high up there too… just takes a couple weeks of separation and he’s ravenous

🩺Zayne controls the situation by edging you both, keeping the game going until you’re both exhausted

“Can’t cum yet, darling. Gotta hold it in.” It’s been an hour… maybe two? Possibly three. You’re not sure, nor do you care. You have Zayne wrapped around your finger… well maybe he had you wrapped around his finger but still. “P-please, Zayne! You’ve ruined it like…shit I can’t remember… seven times? Probably more…” what’s worse than being completely denied is having your orgasm ruined. He’s brought you to the edge, pushed you over, and then stood back and watched it fizzle out. Completely unsatisfying, your poor cunt twitching for more, a real one at that. “You’re doing so good for me though, the reward will be so good if you just…” a gentle motion with his fingers and you’re jerking into him. “…wait.”

Sylus

🍒He didn’t realize that your… eagerness could rub off on him so easily… or maybe he’s always been this way.

🍒Your high libido is damn near torture, considering you’re in Linkon and he’s in the N109 Zone… you’re always tied up with work, he’s always away for business…

🍒Even then, Sylus does try and make it so your time together isn’t entirely… sex. Doesn’t it always work? No.

“I swear all we do is fuck when we see eachother…” you’re giggling as you say it, laying on top of him, chest to chest. His slowly softening cock is begin to slip out of you, the copious amounts of release following. “Because it is all we do… you’re insatiable.” Sweaty and flushed, but still smug, Sylus is twirling your hair around his fingers. “Hey!” A smack lands on his sweaty shoulder and he’s laughing. “You’re one to talk, mister.” But Sylus isn’t letting you live it down that easily. “You made me this way… nothing but a greedy soul.” And just like that, you can feel him hardening again. He studies your expression, tear stained cheeks and flushed skin. So beautiful, even as your lips part in a little “o” as he fills you up.

Caleb

🪐You thought your libido was high… till Caleb finally stopped holding his feelings back

🪐He is on cloud nine when he finds out you’re just as horny as he is 24/7

🪐He’ll travel to and from Linkon if it means getting that pussy for the night. You have zero complaints either, other than maybe the fact that you wished he didn’t live so far

“You’re going to miss… miss…. Caleb!” His hips pound into you, every time you attempt to remind him about missing his train back to Skyhaven he just thrusts harder. “Such a weird way to say that I’m fucking you so damn good, I think a thank you is in order.” He’s nearly in your stomach and he has the audacity to be sassy. You give up on trying to remind him, as if you wouldn’t call off work the next day just to keep him tied down to your bed, balls deep like you had been so boldly begging him for over text a few hours earlier. You’re going to get a noise complaint, maybe even a notice from the city since you have your windows open. The room reeked of sex after all, you needed something to clear your fogged up heads.

[dwarf-vader-of-middle-earth]

That's a reflection on them, not you. That isn't to say it won't hurt when someone judges you, it's absolutely going to hurt. But the fact is that you need to have the confidence to know yourself and know that, no matter what people believe about you, you know who you are, what you're worth, and what you believe and think about yourself. You need to develop the confidence to understand that, no matter what anyone says or believes about you, what they accuse you of, you know yourself and that their accusations don't change this truth of you and never will. You cannot allow the judgment of another to define who you are.

I get judged constantly, I've had people tell me the most abhorrent things I dare not even repeat, calling me some of the worst shit imaginable, and one of those things was, I kid you not, over commenting on how I loved an art of Deadpool and Spiderman kissing. But at the end of the day, they can believe what they will of me. I know who I am, and it doesn't matter if they do or don't. I wish they understood me, yes, and it hurts that they never will accept the truth about me, but there are more things to worry about at the end of the day than what some random folks think of who I am when I know myself more than they ever will, and I uphold this in my actions, beliefs, daily affirmations, etc.

In ethics, there's something called the growth mindset, meaning people are willing and open to learning and changing their minds, versus a closed mindset wherein they're not willing to learn or change (you'll often see this in especially older and elderly people, for example with how many elderly folks refuse to learn technology at all and demand for alternatives to it). And if the person has a closed mindset then it's not your duty to make them change that. Chances are that no amount of teaching will ever change their mindset, anyway.

And the people who would, in your situation, assume automatically you're a cannibal or cannibalism supporter, are those who likely have the closed mindset, or at least have not received the teaching to understand that to learn most anything at all, you have to challenge your worldview.

Even if they believe you're a cannibalism supporter, so what? Is that a bad thing when put in the context of a society in which it's merely a fact of life for them? Is it bad to allow people to have traditions wherein they consume the bodies of their loved ones believing it brings them closer to them? Is it wrong to support an act of survival to keep oneself alive in desperation? Cannibalism isn't inherently barbaric.

Support of something isn't always black or white, either. You can have nuanced situations in which you'll support something or not based on context, and not just this example but for a number of things. Would you support something such as animal euthanasia for when an animal is very sick and cannot live a quality life, but if it's for the reason that a shelter or city is overpopulated by the animal you wouldn't support it? What about murder? Would you support someone killing a person who is attempting to kill them, but you wouldn't support the idea for murder just for murder's sake?

That is the thing about ethics is it forces you to realize the nuances of the world, the human experience and mind, and people who refuse to see this are those with closed mindsets who, more likely than not, would judge you as in your example. And it doesn't matter what they think of you because at the end of the day, again, you're how you define yourself. And if you'll allow hate and poor judgment to define you, if you're going to worry about what everyone thinks of you in many or all contexts, you'll never be able to challenge your own worldview to learn in your own mindset, to grow and change.

Granted, that isn't to say you should just ask a bunch of random strangers on the street for their opinions on a controversial subject. It's important that you discuss these things in open circles where others are willing to contribute to the discussion in a constructive way, such as a classroom or a mutual meeting space.

But in the end, confidence in yourself as well as understanding that others do not have the right to define you, only you do, is key.

[sodapopkiss6]

Sylus the type of guy to...

Let you put pink ribbons and bows on him, anywhere you want. Of course, at first, he'd laugh at you, amused when you ask. He doesn't get the purpose of it.

You force him down on the bed, undressing him slowly, taking your time to love every inch of his skin. He closes his eyes, a shaky breath escaping him.

You're going too slow. He grips the sheets, but he will try to be patient, to be a good boy, because good boys get rewards.

It takes him a minute to realize he's fully undressed. His skin hot and sensitive under your touch.

His eyes open quickly, though, when he feels the first ribbon. Its softness wrapped around his length, making him shudder. You tighten it just enough and make a cute little bow.

He still doesn't get it, but doesn't comment on it.

And just like that, his body is fully decorated, ribbons wrapping around him from different angles. The last ribbon, you tie it around his wrists, keeping them above his head.

You move back to admire your work. Smiling when you see his dazed eyes and needy look.

Your hand goes to tease his tip, smearing his precum while you slide your hand up and down. The reaction is instant, his hips buck, and he lets out a moan. It's such a pretty sight. You can't help but coo at him.

"You look so cute, I wish you could look at yourself right now" An idea pops into your mind "Actually you could..."

You reach for your phone and snap a couple of pictures. Choosing the best one you show it to him.

"Look at you, don't you think you look adorable?" Your hand resumes its earlier movements.

Sylus whines and nods, barely processing your words.

"Such a cute boy, so pretty." You go down to kiss his chest making him gasp.

"I love you so much, I'm so lucky to have you." Your lips wrap around one of his nipples and you suck.

He whimpers loudly, his chest has always been a sensitive area.

"You're mine, only mine, forever." Your free hand goes to play with his other nipple.

"Say it, say that you're mine, my pretty boy, and that you're worthy of love and kindness"

"I'm y-yours!" He moans,"your p-pretty boy and ngh- I'm worthy of mm! L-love a-and kindness! Mngh 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦" he whines, hips bucking into your hand. He's so close. He can feel the build-up ready to spill over, but something is in the way.

"That's right, so you better not say otherwise ever again," you say, moving up to look into his eyes. "I don't care what anyone else thinks. You're perfect just the way you are"

Your hand that's wrapped around his length stops and tugs at the bow, letting it loose.

"I love you, every part of you, I love the leader of onychinus and Sylus. Because at the end of the day, no matter what name you choose, they're all you"

You lean down to kiss him softly yet passionately. Your hand stroking him faster until his tipping point. It didn't take much. Your words and your body make him fall apart. Only you are capable of this, of making him feel safe while letting go, being vulnerable.

He moans into your mouth, his wrists weakly pulling on the ribbons.

"Shh, it's okay, just breathe," you talk to him softly, guiding him back.

Placing small kisses in between his eyebrows, you murmur praises. Feeling his breathing controlling itself as minutes passed.

Once he was back to his senses, he hummed and squirmed. You quickly free him from the restraints, and his arms wrap around you, sitting up to hold you close. You hear small sniffles and feel something wet fall on your neck.

Rocking him, you hum a gentle melody while your hands rub his back and head. You can't tell how much time has passed, you don't mind, though. You will wait patiently for him just like he does for you.

"Thank you" he whispers, voice raw and vulnerable.

"Anything for you." You press a small kiss on his head.

He moves back to look at you. Eyes red and glassy.

"I love you"

Looking at him fondly, you rest your forehead against his.

"I love you too"

He starts to understand the purpose of the pink ribbons.

I like this one. I think it's cute, ima make a long fic version of it. Need more fics of mc comforting Sylus

[skyguytoast]

hi there!

I LOVE your Anakin and Hayden works, they're so well written and I just get lost in this universe you pull me into 👏🏻🥰

I was wondering if you had the time if you'd be able to make headcanons for a Hayden Christensen x kinda chubby younger girlfriend reader?

Thanks! Xoxo

HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN X CHUBBY!READER HEADCANONS

WARNING: none, just cuteness A/N: hiiii my loves, how are you doing?? So, when I got this request, it really made me stop and think at first, I was like “wait, is there even a difference between dating someone who's thin or chubby?” cuz in my head love is love 💕BUT then I realized that assuming everything’s the same can actually be a bit careless 🥲 so I took a step back and reflected with lots of love and care. Anywayyyy I hope you like it and please keep sending requests because I get so excited every time!! I love love love hearing from you all!! also didn't know if you want smut or no

Hayden fell for you long before you realized it. The first thing that caught him wasn’t your body, it was your laugh, your warmth, the way your cheeks lifted when you smiled. You were sunshine to him, warm and lovely.

His jaw always dropped when you wore those curve-hugging dresses you were unsure about. When you nervously mentioned the way your belly folded or how it clung “too much,” he just looked at you with that quiet intensity and said, “That’s my favorite part.”

When Hayden returned to training for Vader, he loved how strong it made him feel when he could pick you up effortlessly. He adored the way you’d squeal and laugh when he lifted you during a TikTok challenge you dragged him into (even though he had no idea what half of them meant).

That day you tried on one of his sweatshirts expecting it to be oversized, only for it to feel snug, broke your heart a little. But Hayden noticed the way your smile dimmed. That night, he sat beside you, handed you a softer, roomier hoodie from a Star Wars event in Tokyo, kissed your forehead, and told you, “It’s not about what fits you. It’s about what makes you feel safe.”

Hayden leaves love notes in your snack drawers. You’ll go for a cookie and find “Your thighs are art, don't argue” written on a sticky note in his handwriting. He knows how tempting it is to try those crazy diets that society seems to push on you, and he doesn't want you to fall into a black hole of insecurities and compromise your health.

Hayden always takes the pictures you feel cute in — no “suck it in,” no weird angles. And when you ask, “Do I look okay in this?” He simply says, “You always look beautiful, baby.” His lock screen is a picture of you in a tight white dress that hugs all the right places, highlighting your cute cleavage and the little folds of your tummy.

Hayden gently nudges you away from negative self-talk. When you get caught in a spiral, he doesn’t dismiss you, he listens, holds your hand, and says, “I know the world tries to make you feel like you’re ‘too much.’ But you’re everything to me.”

You once caught him reading body positive essays and plus-size fashion blogs. When you asked why, he shrugged and said, “If I want to love you well, I need to understand." Because Hayden knows how easy it is to fall into those toxic positivity conversations, reinforcing stereotypes and prejudices instead of validating your beauty.

He always encourages you to eat what you want when you go out, especially when you hesitate. “Life’s short,” he whispers with a smirk. “And that cheesecake’s flirting with us.” Hayden cares about your food, knowing that making food the villain will only bring guilt, give space to eating disorders and reinforce the idea that food is the villain.

Whenever someone online makes an ignorant comment, you never have to see it, because Hayden’s already blocked, reported, and moved on. “You don’t owe the internet your pain,” he says. He doesn't have social media, but he knows how tough the internet is, and he does everything he can to make sure you don't have to deal with insults and stupid comments.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @ihearthayden @anakinstwinklebunny @sometimescharlolette @awhhayden @dessxoxsworld @throughparisallthroughrome @freudsweetlamb

______________________________________________________________

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: coffee shop date with alan

COMMENTS: a late birthday present for @inthekitschen !!!! i hope u like this as much as i loved your aubritsu birthday gift <333 thank u for being so sweet to me T0T youre literally the best i would put in a little glass jar and poke holes in the top so u could breathe. anyway

Your heart does a little dance in your chest when you see Alan through the window, hunched over one of the cafe’s small white tables. You throw the door open with gusto, rushing inside. A few people turn your way when you enter, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary.  Making your way over to where Alan sits, you can see him puzzling over the menu.

When you’re close enough, you reach out and place your hand on his shoulder. It’s so broad and muscular, you almost give it a light squeeze. Alan turns towards you, looking a bit embarrassed, a soft pink flush on his cheeks.

“Hey,” you breathe, grinning like a fool, “This seat taken?”

“It’s not,” he says, pushing his seat away from the table, “Let me get it for you.”

You nearly grab him and kiss him right then when he pulls out the chair across from him. You’re not sure who taught him all these manners, but you’re praising them nonstop in your head. Sitting down after shooting him a thankful smile, you're hyper-aware of Alan’s every movement as he takes his seat again.

“Did you have a good day at work?” he asks, his tone softer than when you entered.

“It was alright. The usual,” you shrug, “That is to say, I’m exhausted. It’s rewarding, though! I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Alan nods. You’re about to ask about his day in return before he passes the menu to you.

“I was going to order you a mocha,” he points to the mocha on the menu, “But I wanted to make sure that was the right one.”

You laugh, cheeks burning from the tension from your smile. When’s the last time you felt this excited to go on a  date with someone? Alan must have been the exception to every first date rule—you were totally going to call him later tonight.

“Yes, that’s the right one. Thank you for checking,” you stifle your laughter, biting your lip, “You’re so sweet, Alan.”

You swear his blush flares a bit as he turns his head to the side, mumbling something that looks a lot like don’t mention it. You insist on mentioning it, however—how else is he going to understand that you think he’s the sweetest man alive and that you feel undoubtedly safe with him?

If he doesn’t think he is, then it’s your job to tell him over and over until he accepts it.

Alan insists on ordering for you, ever the gentleman. You watch his back as he talks to the cashier and picks up your drinks, his brow furrowed in concentration as he carries them.

He really doesn't want to drop them. It's cute.

He sets your drink down first before sitting down with his own, his hands engulfing the cup entirely. You thank him softly—Alan mumbles something to the effect of it’s no big deal, as long as you’re happy.

“I want you to have a good time too,” you protest, lips quirking up at the sides.

“I’m with you,” he states, blunt as ever despite the new territory, “Of course I’m having a good time. You shouldn’t worry about me.”

“Alan...” you reach over across the table and place your hand on his, “It’s the same for me. You don’t have to act different, you’re already so kind. I agreed to this date because of you.”

Alan’s lips twitch, just the slightest bit.

He looks a little more sure of himself, and it soothes your heart.

[theshiniestgemstone]

Hi! I’m the anon who asked for the fic with Jesse and the reader on her and Gideon’s wedding day! I loved it! It’s everything I was hoping for!

I had an idea for a kind of part two to that if you’re up for it! What if the reader’s parents show up on the Gemstone compound and are demanding to be let through security but they’re not on the list. I can imagine Jesse going OFF on them when he sees how uncomfortable it’s making the reader. If we know anything about Jesse Gemstone, it’s that he believes in REVENGE!

Thank you again for writing my last request! 💕

-🦈

thank you for that idea btw. if i could kiss you, i would <3. someone kinda beat you to an idea .a, but i will 100% revisit that. here is their request if you want to read, but yours is here: :). they can be read as a continuation, but they don't have to be.

“Thank you for coming over for dinner,” you said, placing the last dry plate into the cupboard.

Amber smiled, patting your hand with a tenderness that always made your chest ache. “Thank you for hosting."

You smiled faintly, tugging your sleeves down as you followed her toward the front porch, the sounds of laughter from Jesse and Gideon echoing through the trees. It was your first time hosting his parents for dinner in your home. You'd come home last week from the honeymoon, complete with golden tans and no tan lines, save for the one beneath your wedding bands.

But just as you stepped outside, the phone rang. You turned around, grabbing the handset from the dock and answered with a soft hello.

“Uh, Mrs. Gemstone? We’ve got two visitors at the front gate. Say they’re family. Refusing to leave.”

You froze. Amber turned toward you, eyes narrowing in concern.

“Names?”

The radio crackled again. “They’re saying they’re your parents. Didn’t catch the names, just a lot of yelling and… threats of legal action?”

Gideon immediately stood up, the shift in his demeanor so quick and sharp it nearly startled you. Gone was the easygoing warmth from moments before. His jaw was tight now, eyes tracking you like he was waiting for the word to act. Protective. Present.

Amber touched his arm but didn’t stop him. She just looked between the two of you, gauging the storm that had clearly arrived.

You’d brought them up before. Once. Maybe twice, and even then, only in fragments, little slips during long talks curled up on the couch, or whispered late at night when the memories crept in.

There were a lot of disagreements growing up. The kind of tension that sat heavy in the air for weeks. A single B+ was treated like a personal failure. Silver and bronze were embarrassments. Honors without High Honors? A sign you weren’t trying hard enough. There was never yelling, never anything you could point to with certainty, but that made it worse. It was all sharp smiles and cutting comments. Love, but only when earned.

And now they were here. Uninvited. Shouting at the gates of your second home like they had the right.

“I didn’t think they’d come here,” you muttered, voice thin. “I didn’t think they’d actually-”

Gideon stepped closer, just enough for you to feel his presence solidly at your side. “They don’t get to decide anything anymore.”

His tone was low, firm in a way you rarely heard. It wasn’t for comfort. It was a promise. One that crackled under his skin like a lit fuse.

“I don’t care if they brought God himself in the passenger seat,” Jesse called from the front porch, his voice carrying as he adjusted his watch and started toward the back door. “They’re gonna learn today. Let them in."

Amber clicked her tongue. “Jesse.”

“I said they’re gonna learn, Amber!” he shot back without missing a step. “They came up to my gate with their little petty attitudes and ‘do you know who I am’ voices and thought we were just gonna let ‘em strut in here and act like she owes them something?”

You winced slightly. But Gideon’s hand found yours.

“You don’t owe them a damn thing,” he said, steady and sure, as if it were gospel.

You followed Jesse through the house and to the front door, every step heavy with the weight of what was about to unfold. The hallway felt narrower than usual, the walls closing in with memories and unspoken tensions. Jesse’s hand was on the doorknob before you could think twice. He pulled it open with the kind of force that made the hinges groan, revealing your parents standing stiff and stiff-necked on the other side, their expressions a mix of disbelief and entitlement.

“Well, well, well,” Jesse said, voice dripping with something between amusement and menace. “Look who decided to show up unannounced. Didn’t think you had the guts to come here, did ya?”

Your parents opened their mouths, but Jesse cut them off with a sharp wave. “Save it. I’m not here for chit-chat. You’re making her uncomfortable, and you’re trespassing. So, you’ve got two choices. Turn around and leave, or we make this real unpleasant.”

You felt Gideon tighten his grip on your hand, grounding you as your parents sputtered. You caught Amber’s calm but watchful eyes just inside the doorway, like a shield ready to step in if things got out of hand.

Your dad finally found his voice, but Jesse wasn’t done. “Look, if you wanted to talk, you’d have called. You wouldn’t come storming in like some damn bull in a china shop. This is her life now, and you’re not welcome to disrupt it.”

You stared your mother in the face. Everyone always said you look like her, that you'd age gracefully carrying her features.

Your mother’s voice cracked just enough to sound sincere, her eyes searching yours like she was trying to find a flicker of the child she once knew. “We just want a second chance. To make things right. We made mistakes. We know that now.”

Jesse’s posture shifted. His jaw unclenched, and for a heartbeat, he looked like he might actually soften. Gideon released your hand, stepping back but staying close enough to steady you if needed.

On the surface, it sounded like a real plea. The kind that might thaw even the coldest walls.

But you weren’t fooled. You caught the glint in your mother’s eye. Sharp, calculating, like a wolf disguised in a lamb’s clothing. The way your father’s gaze dropped, fixating on the polished marble floor and the mahogany dining table behind you, as if already imagining himself seated at it again, reclaiming his place.

You swallowed hard, the knot in your stomach tightening.

Jesse gave your parents a hard look, then turned to you. Gideon's hand found yours again, warm and steady.

"Get the fuck out," you spat. "You couldn't even come to my wedding and now you're standing here at my home? On my front steps ogling my home- the home that I found without you."

Your mother's lips parted in quiet offense. Your father tore his gaze from the crown moulding. He reached for your hand. "We just want to repair. We treated you terribly."

The tears in your eyes began to burn. "You had years to do something. You can't just see the fancy house and the gate and suddenly decide I'm someone worth visiting."

Gideon took a breath behind you, calmer now but still radiating that protective Gemstone heat. “Y’all need to leave. She ain’t alone anymore. And she sure as hell don’t need your half-ass apologies to validate her life.”

Your father finally looked up, but it was too late.

You didn’t blink. Then, turning away and with a wave of your hand, you spoke. “Go back to wherever you came from. See if any of your other kids will talk to you."

They hesitated.

“Now,” Jesse said, stepping forward.

Security didn’t need to be told twice that they were not welcome anymore.

[duskvsdawn]

soooo... i see the kaelix fics, i love the kaelix fics, i eat them up 🤤 but they got me thinking of more dom!kaelix, so if at all possible prompts 29 and 40 with him? 👀🫶

≫A/N: Hey, you got it :) I decided to kinda make this a part 5 to the puppy play series. You can check all the other parts in my masterlist here!

Content: dom!kaelix and sub!reader, smut, female reader, reader is wearing a leash and other puppy accessories, reader gives Kaelix a blowjob, Kaelix puts reader in a mating press, reader gets overstimulated to hell and back and oops Kaelix does it to himself too but he acts unphased even if he is trying his best to compose himself, Kaelix chokes reader, Kaelix has a dacryphilia kink, this is just filth enter at your own risk

Art credits <3

« ✦ —⋆——― ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ———⋆— ✦ »

If you like my works, please like, comment and reblog! It is much appreciated ❤ And if you really enjoyed it, please follow me so you can be kept up to date on future uploads! Please do not re-upload, translate, or use for AI training.

That's right, pup, cry some more for me

Zeal would be out of town for a few days, so that meant that you and Kaelix would be home alone for a bit. In the last few weeks, the three of you have done quite a bit of puppy play, and all of you enjoyed it a lot. But now that Kaelix had you to himself, he really wanted to try and dom you for once. You wouldn't let him do that often, but he thought it was worth trying. Those who don't ask will always have "no" for an answer, after all.

You were cooking some dinner for your boyfriend that the two of you would be enjoying in front of the tv while you would be watching a series that you had gotten really invested in. When you finished making dinner, you brought two plates to the living room and put them down on the coffee table. While you watched your series, you enjoyed dinner as you were talking about how incredibly dumb some of the characters were being.

After you had finished dinner and watching the episode, you headed to the kitchen to do today's dishes. You were washing them, and Kaelix helped you by drying them and putting them away. After both of you finished your task, Kaelix suddenly stood behind you and wrapped his arms around your middle while he put his head on your shoulder. "You know... There is something I have been wanting to do to you all day," your boyfriend finally admitted, his lustful thoughts clouding his mind and his body reacting accordingly. You could feel his hard-on pressed against your lower back, and you turned your head around to kiss him. "Oh? And what's that?" you asked in between kisses, growing ever more curious about what he could possibly want to do to you. "Just follow me, babe," the bouncer said as he held out his hand for you, and you happily followed him upstairs.

You plopped down on the bed after undressing, since you knew for a fact he was going to ask you to do so anyway. "Seems like someone is eager to please her master," Kaelix chuckled as he was rummaging in your favourite cabinet, getting all the puppy toys out of there. When he walked back to the bed, toys in hand, you were trying your best to hold back your laughter. Him, master? No way in hell you would let him dom you that easily. On the other hand, you knew he had been trying to do this for a while now, so to be nice, you decided to play along for now.

"Hmm, what's on your mind, master?" you feigned innocence as he put the leash around your neck after he put the headband with puppy ears on your head. "On all fours, pup." the bouncer said while he impatiently moved the buttplug with puppy tail from one hand to the other. "I don't think so. You have to do better than that." you chuckled as you kept sitting on your ass, not giving him any access to the hole that buttplug was supposed to go in. Kaelix knew you were going to be a little brat about it, but he wasn't going to give up so easily.

"If you're not listening, you're not getting any until Zeal comes back. And I know you can't wait that long because you're a needy bitch for our cocks, aren't you now, slut?" the bouncer said as a smirk appeared on his face. A blush spread onto your cheeks; you couldn't deny you had always been needy for them. So, for now, you decided to comply and see what else he had up his sleeves. You sighed and got on all fours, looking over your shoulder as Kaelix's hand got closer to your ass. He slowly pushed the tail into your ass, and you let out a low moan in return. That pesky smirk on his face only grew, and you hated to admit that it kind of turned you on to see your boyfriend so confident.

Kaelix started taking off his clothes, and then he lay down on the bed. "Come closer, my dear puppy. Put that mouth to good use, will you?" your master said as his hand reached around to pull on the leash connected to the collar. He pulled your head closer to his dick, and you got the hint, but you wanted to be bratty for a little longer. "Nah, I don't feel like it. You'll have to ask me nicely," you said as you were the one smirking now. "I don't take orders from such a needy whore. Don't you remember what I told you? Listen to me, or you're not getting any, got it?" the bouncer said as his hand took hold of your head and he pushed you closer to his dick. You rolled your eyes so hard it almost gave you a headache, and you started kitten licking the tip.

After some encouraging moans from your boyfriend, you took the entire tip in your mouth and swirled your tongue around it as you occasionally played with the slit. It was starting to leak more and more precum the longer you kept going, and seeing your boyfriend so wet for you made you wet in return. You started taking him deeper as your hands played with his balls, drawing such delicious moans from your boyfriend. Getting head was definitely one of his favourite things ever, and you knew exactly what things he would need to get a mind-blowing orgasm. You took him all the way, his pubic hair tickling your nose every time his dick slid all the way down your throat. The bouncer could really not hold back his sounds of pleasure now, and they motivated you once more. You started moving faster as your hands kept playing with his balls. You looked up at him through your lashes, and the look on his face made you absolutely drenched now. His arm was draped over his eyes as those delicious moans kept spilling from his mouth, while you could see his blush spreading to his neck. You knew he only needed a little bit more, so you kneaded his balls a little harder as you sped up again. His other hand was holding fistfuls of your hair as the muscles in his stomach started to spasm and his thighs started to tremble, signalling the approach of his orgasm. You kept the tip in your mouth as your hand worked the base, greedily awaiting the spurts of cum that would be entering your mouth soon. With both his hands in your hair now, he released into your mouth with a loud moan. After you had worked him through his orgasm, his head fell back on the pillow as a satisfied, long moan left his mouth.

You crawled up to eye level and lay down next to him. "Did I do okay, master?" you asked with a giggle as you looked at the fucked out bliss that was his face. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck, that was perfect, pup. Gimme a minute to recover from that, okay?" your boyfriend said as one hand weaved through your hair lazily as you put your head on his chest to give him some kisses there. He knew he had to man up if he wanted to properly dom you, though. Cause right now, you were in control, and both of you knew that.

After he took a few minutes to recover, he flipped you onto your back. "Now then. It's time for the full course meal. Get ready, pup. You're in for a long night," your boyfriend said with newfound confidence. He knew that he would be just as overstimulated by the end of the night, but he was okay with that. He put you into a mating press as you bit your lower lip. You were getting impatient, you just wanted him to enter you already and fuck you into oblivion. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders to pull him impossibly closer, begging him without words to please just get on with it already, and luckily for you, he understood the hint.

The bouncer slowly pushed into you, and both of you moaned at unison. It felt so good to finally have him where you wanted him most that it made your eyes roll back as he immediately set a brutal pace. He was trying his best to try and stay composed and stay the dominant one, but he hated that he just kept moaning your name over and over in between whimpers and whines. He couldn't help it; it just felt that good to him! His brutal pace never relented, staying the same until both of you got closer to your orgasm. "Kaelix, p-please! Wanna cum, please!" you moaned as you pulled him closer for a hungry and sloppy French kiss. "You'll have to do some more to get to cum, my precious puppy. Start by barking, will you?" the bouncer said as he really tried to not sound any more whiny than you, that would be really embarrassing for him. "N-no! I can't do that! Too embarrassing!" you whimpered as you clawed at the bouncer's back, knowing full well you'd need a tiny bit more help from him to get there.

And then, he stopped altogether. A desperate whimper left your mouth, and you pouted at him. "If you want to cum, you know what you have to do, pup," Kaelix said as he left a gentle kiss on your forehead. You sighed, weighing the options in your head. You decided to set all your shame aside for now and complied. "Wruff, arf, bork!" you barked, and that satisfied the bouncer as he immediately picked up that brutal pace again. "Keep barking until you cum." he demanded, so that's what you did. You kept barking for him, your orgasm rushing back to you at a rapid pace. Your boyfriend angled his hips downwards so his dick would be rubbing against your clit with every move of his hips. Your barks were mixed with desperate whimpers now, that delicious edge was so damn close... And then, it snapped. Your vision sparked white as you came so hard that you squirted all over your boyfriend's dick, who followed soon after.

But his dick stayed firm inside you. And after he rode out his orgasm, he picked up the pace once more, overstimulating both of you to no end for many rounds to come. "W-wait! Kaelix, wait! Let's-let's take a break!" you whined, but it seems your boyfriend has suddenly gone deaf, except he hasn't. He was listening to every needy sound you were making. He gave you orgasm after orgasm, and fat globs of tears kept spilling from your eyes as the overstimulation became more and more with each passing round. He decided to test your limits just a little more as one hand snaked over to your neck and gently wrapped around it, such a sharp contrast to his harsh thrusts. He looked at you questioningly, and since you were already ruined anyway, what would a tiny bit more matter? You nodded, and the bouncer started closing his hand around your throat bit by bit. Your tears spilt even more freely now as you struggled to breathe, but he wouldn't allow you to actually pass out. He had done this before, so he knew exactly how far he could go. "That's right, pup. Cry for me. Show me those beautiful tears of yours," the bouncer said as he continued to fight his own overstimulation. He could tell you were getting closer once more, and he decided that would be the final orgasm for the night since he had already ripped so many from you. Your eyes rolled back into your skull as the most intense orgasm of the night washed over you. The bouncer knew that this was the time to release your neck, letting fresh air filled with the smell of sex into your lungs. With just a few more thrusts, your boyfriend released inside of you one final time. He was pretty much spurting water at this point, but god, he could never get enough of your pussy.

The bouncer collapsed on top of you, struggling just as hard to breathe as you were. And then...

"Well, well, well... Seems like you two really enjoyed each other, huh?" Zeal said as he entered the bedroom. "Oh my fucking god?! How long have you been listening? What are you doing home already?!" you asked as a blush appeared on your face. "Long enough, darling. I would ask for a favour from such a good puppy, but you look spent, so I will spare you," the bartender said with a chuckle as he undressed and plopped down next to both of you to go to sleep along with you. Maybe you would be willing for some more action in the morning.

[ginandvodka-riley]

Daddy's princess

Have you seen this video?

Well, what about a female reader that’s just like that girl in a psychological way? You can be more feminine, tomboyish, a between (like, you use lipstick and like pastel colors but that’s all, not too feminine, not masculine either), or whatever you like to be.

Reader is cheerful and friendly, sociable but that also enjoys her time alone, she knows how to take slightly heavier jokes (of course not stupid immature jokes that could harm someone) (Kyle and Johnny are so delighted with it) and just fits so well with the team.

You joined approximately six months ago, and now that the guys love you so much and consider you part of the family, they finally take the final step: invite you to John’s house.

Now you’re enjoying yourself with them, John’s wife’s so sweet and motherly, Kyle and Johnny are so funny to mock since it’s the sixth time you won UNO and they cannot accept it, so they’ve been whining and complaining during the last hour.

And Simon? Well, he’s just there chilling and chuckling at the poor Sergeants. Or well, that and looking at you since you arrived.

Don’t tell him that he’s not that subtle and you have already noticed it from the start (and from the moment that you joined the team and he couldn’t stop looking at you)

Anyway, John’s wife wanted to try something new now that she’s been going to cooking classes and learnt about Mexican food. So, she decided to make esquites and elotes preparados as snacks.

The moment she brings the elotes in a serving bowl, she tells you all how to eat them, with chili powder, crumbled fresh cheese and mayonnaise, inserted into a stick. They all tried to insert their elote without success, they’re hot and their center is so hard that those grown burly men just gave up and decided to eat it with their bare hands once it’s cooler. Everyone but Simon, that even being a brute of a man couldn’t do it, so just as if it was the most normal easiest thing in the world, you took his burn elote, a stick and begin to insert it just with two hard blows, right in the center, then you gave it a little kiss on the tip, put it on his plate and winked at him.

Everyone fell silent, motionless, just looking at you incredulously.

And Simon?

Well, let’s just say his brain short-circuited, his whole face was red and the only thing he could hear was his blood running fast inside him.

When everyone finally reacted and began to laugh and ask you how you managed to do that, he excused himself and went to the bathroom to put his whole head under the sink to get wet with cold water and fresh himself.

From that day on he tried to get closer to you, it didn’t matter if his hands were sweating just by seeing your smile, he wanted to be with you and know everything about you. For him, you were destined for each other.

That was until two weeks later you both were in his office doing paperwork, enjoying each other’s company. In a moment you received a message and when you read it you smiled brightly, of course that caught his attention.

“Why the smile, luv?” You showed him your cellphone with your father’s conversation open; he had sent you a picture of you two when you turned 18 and joined the army. You explained that your family, and especially your father, who was more than proud of you, decided to throw you a party, he bought you a beautiful military green dress and a flowers tiara, that you matched using a pair of combat boots.

He smiled heartfully at your story and the photo, and before he could think about he was going to say, he spoke.

“You’re daddy’s princess.” It was a sweet comment, tender and kind, and it was somewhat true. However, you smiled flirtatiously at him, stood up, leaned into his desk and took his chin softly making him look at you.

“No, baby.” Since he had his balaclava pulled over his nose as he was drinking coffee, your thumb grazed his lip softly like a butterfly’s touch, cleaning a small coffee stain. “I’m daddy, and you’re my princess.”

And just like that day in John’s house you winked at him, then let him go and without saying more you left his office to prepare you both more coffee.

He was left speechless, frozen, with his trousers tighten and his brain melting. He swore he could hear bells ringing around him, the bells that will ring the day you two get married.

In that moment he confirmed; he was already yours, and if you wanted him to carry the baby and be a pretty little husband, he will, just for you.

Your 6’3’’ brute princess.

[starkwlkr]

we both know that’s not true | erik campbell

an: yeah i need erik in ways that are concerning to feminism. btw this will have no spoilers for final destination bloodlines!! i have already seen the movie and i don’t want to spoil ANYTHING for anyone. and if you comment spoilers, i will not hesitate to delete them!! might make more fics about the reader being julia’s best friend x erik hehehehehehe

“What are you wearing for the party? I’m thinking of wearing the red dress I bought last week, but I can’t find any matching heels. Wait, do you still have the heels you wore to graduation? Can I borrow them?” You heard Julia’s voice ask through your phone’s speaker.

“Uh . . . Yeah! I have to look for them though. I’ll drop them off asap,” You replied, but you were more concentrated on looking through your own closet filled with a plethora of clothes, old and new. “Fuck, I don’t have anything to wear! I hate everything. I might not even go.” You threw the dress you had in your hands on the floor and sat on the edge of your bed.

“Oh you’re going! You’ve skipped out on the past three parties! Come on, we can go shopping tomorrow. Plus I think Will is going to be there and if you go then he’ll see how fucking hot you look in that new dress and he’ll realize how a fucking idiot he is for cheating on you.” Julia went on.

“Well that’s more reason to not go. If I see his face, I will punch him.” You said as you grabbed a top and walked towards your mirror to see how it would look like.

“And I’ll support you!”

As the conversation went on, you didn’t notice your bedroom door open. Silent footsteps cross your bedroom floor. You’re mid-spin when two strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you back onto the bed. You let out a shriek, your phone tumbling onto the mattress.

Erik’s hand covers your mouth a second later. “Shhh,” he whispers, his lips brushing your ear, his body pressing into yours. Your heart slams in your chest as he nudges your legs apart with his knee. “Keep talking.” he murmurs.

You fumble for the phone, continuing the call with a trembling thumb. “S-sorry, dropped the phone,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, breath normal.

“Okay . . .”

Erik’s mouth is on your neck now, soft and slow, his hand slipping under your shirt, fingers warm against your skin. You bite your lip hard, stifling a gasp as your hips arch instinctively toward him.

You try to focus. “So, shopping tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up in the morning. Oh! And then we can go eat lunch at that new Italian place that opened last week! But I have been craving steak . . .” She rambled on.

Then Erik’s lips find the sensitive spot just below your ear. His hand slides up your stomach, fingers grazing bare skin. Your breath hitches before you can stop it.

You manage a strained, “That’s . . . interesting.”

“Bobby’s peanut allergy is interesting?” Julia questioned.

Erik kisses your collarbone, teeth lightly grazing your skin, and a soft whimper escapes before you can stop it.

“Are you alone right now?” Julia asks suddenly, suspicion creeping into her voice.

You freeze. “Yeah,” you lie, voice way too high. Erik smirked as he continued.

There’s a pause. Then Julia gasps. “Oh my God. You’re not! I knew it. I knew something was up. Jesus, who is he? Wait—no, don’t tell me. Actually, no, do. Wait—ugh, you know what? Whatever. Enjoy whoever it is you’re doing. I’m hanging up.”

You stare at the phone screen, heartbeat thudding in your ears. Erik shifts above you, clearly pleased with himself.

“Has anyone ever told her she talks too fucking much?” he says softly, brushing your hair aside as he leans back down. “But that was kind of hot, wasn’t it?”

“You’re disgusting.” You push him slightly creating a bit of space between the two of you.“This. . . needs to stop,” you whisper, voice firm even though your pulse is all over the place. “I don’t want to sneak around anymore.”

Erik tilts his head, his smirk slow and infuriating. “Yeah, you say that. . . ” he murmurs, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip, “but we both know that’s not true.”

Your brows lift, heat flashing in your cheeks. “Hey! I can stop whenever I want.”

“Oh, sure you can,” he says mockingly, his voice a low tease. “Totally believable. Look at you—already breathless, clinging to me like you forgot how to stand.”

Your mouth falls open in outrage, but the bastard's still grinning. Smug. Sure of himself.

“Well, I am stopping it,” you snap, shoving at him harder this time, even though your legs are still tangled with his. “Right now. This is me. Stopping.”

“Right,” he mutters.

You barely have time to glare before he kisses you—rough this time. Unapologetic. His hands are in your hair, his lips hungry like he’s trying to prove a point. And damn it, it’s working. You’re cursing yourself in your head when you kiss him back, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt instead of pushing him away.

He pulls back just enough to smirk again. “Thought you were stopping?”

You pant against his lips, cheeks flushed. “Maybe. . . after this.”

“Sure,” he whispers, dragging his mouth down your jaw, voice dark and satisfied. “That’s what you said last time. Liar.”

You don’t answer. You just pull him closer.

Because the worst part is—you hate that he’s right.

And the best part is. . . you don’t care.

[petalsscribbles]

1. welcome home

"Can't you see? The one I love is you! It's always been you." Jiwoong's voice rings out from the needlessly huge TV. Another painfully cliché line in a painfully unoriginal drama. A cold arrogant rich man as the love interest and a wet blanket of a girl for the female lead. Yn begins to doubt if any sort of human interaction with the script took place or if it was something a computer vomitted out and producers somehow found it worth budgeting.

Yn doesn't need to tear his gaze away from the shirt he's ironing to know a 'dead fish kiss' is happening, judging by the OST's volume soaring to deafening heights and lack of dialogue.

Nevertheless, it is Jiwoong first true break through into stardom. Yn remembers the dating rumors between Jiwoong and the actress that the drama conjured. Fans disected interviews and behind the scenes footage, journalist poked and proded for so called evidence. As time went on, journalist and the public alike found out that's just how he treats everyone. The most kind hearted gentleman Kim Jiwoong.

What a fucking joke.

The familiar electronic melodical sound and door opening announces Jiwoong's arrival, but Yn doesn't register his presence until Jiwoong's arms wrap around his waist, the heat of his toned chest sinking into Yn's back.

"Welcome home." Yn says, as he usually does. Jiwoong answers with an indifferent hum, as he usually does as well.

"Why are you watching that? It's awful." He adds - an uncommon occurence.

"It's a good background noise. Makes chores easier."

Jiwoong's thumb caresses a fresh burn Yn gave himself mere moments ago. He sighs. Is it disappointment? Annoyance? Dissatisfaction? It's impossible to tell.

"I'll do the ironing from now on." He announces, leaving no room for objections.

"It's just a tiny burn. I'll live."

"It's still an injury, and I don't like to see you hurt."

"So? Are you gonna get rid of all furniture if I happen to hit my toe on a table?" Yn retorts. For someone who acts like he would die if he said more than 100 words a day to Yn, he sure can be overprotective.

"No." Jiwoong answers as he gently spins Yn around to face him. "If that happens, I'll carry you everywhere so you better watch your step." Then he leans in for his daily 'welcome home' kiss, third of the four basically mandatory ones, the other 3 being a morning kiss, have a great day kiss and goodnight kiss.

The last one wasn't a thing until Yn decided to move to Jiwoong's bedroom. Whether that was a good decision or not depends on the mood you'd ask Yn in. Jiwoong is happy about it, in any case. The moment Yn suggested the idea of them sharing a bed was the very first time he saw Jiwoong smile out of genuine happiness.

"What do you want for dinner?" Jiwoong asks. Yn mulls over the simple yet complicated question.

"Japchae." He says decidedly. Jiwoong nods and rolls his sleeves up, exposing the muscular forearms that he oh so selfishly hides from Yn's touch.

Yn wants to go back to his previous task. But is stopped before he can even reach for another shirt.

"What did I just say?"

"But-"

"Don't make me tie your hands behind your back again."

The humiliation of being handfed, his teeth brushed and skincare done all by Jiwoong while his hands are tied together with his Prada belt floods into his mind like a war flashback.

Yn unplugs the iron. He's learnt his lesson.

A/n: At first I wanted to wait a little to be in a "better headspace" but you know what, that's gonna happen in my grave so here we are

taglist: OPEN comment or send ask to be added

@starchasing-cryptid @molanran @gnusihcom @bubblztaro @10072309 @obyyyy @kirbrary @gunatth @dkmyman @sooobiinn @killerd1 @smoophie @haoeffect

prev masterlist next

[bimbovicc]

#JUST A TRANSACTION, RIGHT ?

Sugar Daddy!Bruce Wayne x f!reader

a/n : Dedicated to the girls who want rent paid, backs broken, and their hearts softly cupped by billionaires with trauma™️.

tags : Sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamic, age gap (reader is younger but of legal age; Bruce is late 30s/early 40s) power imbalance, Oral (f! giving), dom!Bruce, Praise + possessive dirty talk, slow-burn, Bruce being emotionally constipated with his money and his heart, soft aftercare, light crying, Bruce Wayne in gray sweatpants. You’ve been warned.

The first time you go to his penthouse, you expect a hotel-like setup. Money, silk sheets, cold hands, and a fat envelope on the nightstand when it’s over.

What you don’t expect…

Is him.

He opens the door shirtless—dark sweatpants slung low on his hips, hair messy, five o’clock shadow like he hasn’t even tried to clean up for you. Like he wanted you to see him like this.

“Don’t just stand there,” he says, voice smooth and deep. “Come in.”

You step inside on heels he paid for. The little black dress? He picked it out. The lace panties? His favorite color. You’re used to older men being performative. But Bruce? Bruce looks at you like he’s already imagining the dress on the floor.

“Want something to drink?” he asks, watching you walk.

“Champagne.”

He smirks. “Of course you do.”

Later, when you’re sitting on his expensive leather couch with the bubbles tickling your throat and his hand on your thigh, you lean in with practiced sweetness.

“So, what do you want, Mr. Wayne?”

His gaze dips to your lips. “Bruce.”

“Bruce,” you repeat, slow and sultry. “What are you expecting from me tonight?”

He doesn’t blink. “Everything.”

Your thighs clench. God, the confidence.

“Take off your dress.”

You pause. “Right now?”

Bruce leans in, whispering against your lips. “You want me to keep paying your tuition or not, sweetheart?”

You moan at the tone. Low, firm, and already addicted to the idea of you obeying.

You stand slowly and slide the dress off your shoulders, letting it pool at your heels.

He doesn’t touch you for a full minute. Just watches. Eyes dragging down your tits, the swell of your thighs, the lace barely covering anything. Then he says—

“On your knees.”

You suck him off like your life depends on it. Not because he demands it—but because he tips his head back and groans like you’re his salvation.

“God, you’re so pretty like this,” he pants, one hand tangled in your hair. “Fuckin’ perfect little mouth… taking all of me like a good girl.”

You moan around his cock, rubbing your thighs together for friction. He sees it.

“Touch yourself. Show me how wet this makes you.”

You do. Fingers circling your clit as tears sting your eyes from the stretch of his cock in your throat. When he cums, it’s with a growl of “Mine.”

And you think—it’s not just a job. Not with him.

The next time, it’s slower. He fucks you in his bed, one hand pressed to your lower stomach so he can feel how deep he is.

“You were made for me,” he murmurs, lips against your shoulder. “No one else gets to see you like this. Understand?”

You nod, breathless.

“Say it.”

“No one else,” you whisper. “Just you, Bruce.”

Months pass. He buys you a diamond necklace—“Not a collar,” he insists, but he fastens it like one. He touches you like you’re breakable. But he fucks you like he’s starved.

You begin leaving little things in his space. Hair clips. Lip gloss. A pair of slippers. He doesn’t comment, but he never moves them.

One night, after a gala, you’re sitting on his lap in the back of the limo, tipsy and flushed. Your tits are spilling out of your dress, and you pout when he doesn’t fuck you immediately.

“Why do you keep me around, Bruce?” you slur softly, lips brushing his jaw.

He doesn’t answer right away. Just cups your cheek and looks you dead in the eye.

“I sleep better when you’re here.”

Your heart skips. “That’s not very sugar daddy of you.”

His grip tightens slightly. “That’s not very sugar baby of you to say.”

You kiss him anyway

Eventually, it happens—after he ghosts you for three days during a Batman emergency and you show up at his penthouse in his shirt, crying, mascara running.

“I thought you were done with me,” you hiccup.

Bruce is silent, staring at the mess of you in his arms, until he crushes you against his chest.

“I’m never done with you. Not now.”

“Then stop acting like I’m just another girl you bought.”

He stiffens.

You look up, lips trembling. “You didn’t just buy my body, Bruce. You bought me. And I let you.”

His jaw works silently. Then he lowers his forehead to yours, breathing hard.

“You weren’t supposed to matter,” he murmurs. “But now I can’t sleep unless I know you’re mine.”

You cry harder.

He fucks you slow that night. No dirty talk. No teasing. Just hands on your waist, lips on your throat, and whispered “Stay.”

[schemmentisimpasours]

Clinging Onto You

Summary: Loosely LOOSELY based on Season 1 Ep 12. Ava is stressed out from her presentation with the district and Melissa is more hurt by Barbara's comments than she lets on. But Reader is there to help make it right.

Warnings: Barlissa Angst, slightly alludes to close door shenanigans

Pairings: AvaMel x Reader, Platonic Barlissa

Masterlist

3.4k (This one shot popped off)

~-~

You had just left Ava to Gregory and Janine to figure out how to save her district presentation that you had already spent weeks bothering her to fix. Melissa and you had encouraged her to work on it to show her true, authentic side, but Ava had put up walls instead. You knew when it was your time to step out and let someone else try and rationalize with her. You went to seek out your other girlfriend to give her a heads up when you found her storming out of Barbara’s room. He hair was flying behind her as her heels clicked against the tiles. Running to catch up to her, you cornered her right inside her classroom.

“Angel, what is going on?” You asked, grabbing her hand gently.

“Nothing, absolutely nothing,” She huffed, folding her arms.

You quirked your eyebrow, grabbing her hips gently, “Angel, I just watched you storm down the hall without bending your knees. Something is wrong.”

“It was just something Barbara said that really rubbed me the wrong way,” Melissa sighed, “Can we just not talk about it right now? The little eagles are almost done with gym and I just need to process it for a bit.”

You relented, still holding her hips lightly, “Is there anything I can do for you now? You still got that little anger crease in your forehead.”

“You are such an ass for that. You are so lucky, I love you,” Melissa laughed, shaking her head, “Now give me a kiss.”

You pulled her in by the loops of her pants, and she cupped your cheeks gently. You still felt the electric spark every time that you kissed the older woman. Even after months of dating, it felt like coming home. When she pulled away, she placed her forehead against yours. Her breath was ragged, and she took a moment to hold you there.

“How you still leave me breathless, baby?” Mel whispered, and all you did was giggle, “How is our other girl doing? Still worried about the presentation.”

“Could be better. She is completely freaking out,” You admitted, still holding Melissa.

“We tried but we have to let her make her own mistakes,” Melissa sighed making you laughed, “What is funny?

“You realize that I am the youngest out of the two of you, right?”

“Yeah but you got an old soul and that is what we love about you,” Melissa grinned kissing your forehead again.

You laughed again only moving away when the bell rang, “I’ll see you after school Angel.”

After school you were busy grading papers when you heard Ava’s heels clicking down the hall. She stopped leaning against your doorway with a cocky smile that melted your heart, “Let’s get Angel and get out of here Baby. I need a little stress relief before the big presentation tomorrow.”

“What you have in mind?” You said, quirking your brow.

Ava stalked over to you with a fire in your eye. She leaned over your desk so her lips were just above the shell of your ear, “You naked in our bed. Tied up. While Mel…”

“Yeah I heard enough we are going,” You pushed away from your desk and grabbed Ava’s hand dragging her into the hall.

Melissa was already waiting with a cocky grin on her lips. You groaned, looking at the redhead, “She got to you first, didn’t she?”

“Where do you think the tied-up idea came from?” Melissa laughed, causing you to roll your eyes.

Since the halls were empty with all the other teachers having left for the day you grabbed Melissa with your other hand and pulled them both down the hall. They spent the whole drive in the front seat of Melissa’s car swapping ideas of what the night would hold. You squirmed in the back seat, hoping your body would be able to keep up.

~-~

You arrived at the district meeting the next day driving in Melissa’s car. Ava had already gone to prepare with Gregory and Janine leaving you alone with the redhead. Everyone was used to you and Melissa's “friendship” but the level of the relationship and the parts you shared with Ava had been kept under wraps. It was complicated enough to be dating a coworker but to then also be dating the boss…it was a lot. You were fine with the sneaking around letting it add another layer of excitement. Ava and Melissa reminded you every day, multiple times a day, that they loved you, and that is all you really needed.

When you entered the building, Melissa peeled off to talk to Barbara, giving you a small pat on your back. You wandered over to Jacob, falling into small talk till the presentation started. You listened through the door, beaming at Ava’s presentation ending. With one eye you kept a watch over Melissa as she talked heatedly to Barbara.

“Did you…Did you shake someone down for me?” Melissa asked.

Barbara grinned, “I shook someone down for us, ya big gabootz. Guboonza? Garbanzo.”

“That’s a bean but I guess thank you for trying,” Melissa said with a sigh.

“Why are you still upset? I did what you wanted.”

“That’s why, because you are acting like I forced you into this decision. You don’t like playing in the mud remember?” Melissa scoffed and then turned on her heel.

You watched as the redhead rushed from the event center before you could catch her. Barb was in the corner still looking stunned after whatever conversation had transpired. You debated going after her when Ava approached you. A disappointed look was hidden underneath her usual mask. She stopped a foot away from you but you could see the desperate plea in her eyes. She wanted out of here. Somewhere she could curl up with you and Melissa and fall apart in peace. Away from prying eyes of coworkers and the judgement of the district.

"Where is Angel? I am ready to go back home," She asked quietly the nickname slipping out her mouth with practiced ease.

She looked around frantically but everyone was distracted in their own conversations to have noticed the slip-up. You nodded towards the door, "Left that way after talking with Barbara. I don't think she is doing much better than you right now."

Ava sighed and with a gentle hand on your back ushered you towards the door, "Let's go get her."

Once outside the door and around the corner you reached out to Ava lacing your fingers through hers. She squeezed them gently giving you a small smile, "I'm sorry I really fucked up in there. Maybe I am not cut out for this job."

"You did great Princess. You are a great principal. Those district assholes just don't know how to do their jobs," You reassured her and pointed as you spotted Melissa, “There she is.”

Melissa was sitting in the grass back against the hard concrete wall. She was staring up at the clouds a lit cigarette dangling from her lips. She took a long drag before letting it out in a puff of practiced smoke. Melissa is what you nicknamed a stress smoker. Never kept a cigarette on hand but knew how to bum one from someone if she needed to dull an uncontrollable rage. It had been months since her last one.

You let go of Ava's hand so she could plop down dress and heels be damned next to Melissa. You slid in on the other side of the redhead. You rested your head on her shoulder and she moved her hand to grab your thigh. Without even realizing it she began to trace small patterns into your jeans. Ava plucked the cigarette from her fingers placing it against her own lips.

"What's got you upset Angel?" She asked before taking a hit and gave it back to the older woman.

She watched the end burn for a moment flicking away the ashes, "Barbara said she leaves playing in the mud to people like me. Like I'm some scum criminal off the streets. I do this stuff for the kids ya know? I'm not as shady as everyone thinks."

"We know Angel," you promised leaning in to kiss her cheek, "You care more about those kids than anyone."

"Then she goes and blackmails the lady for the grant and acts like she did it for us. It just makes me feel gross. Like I'm corrupting the perfect Christian Barbara Howard."

Ava was holding the cigarette between her fingers as she scoffed, "She ain't perfect Mel. None of us are. You didn't force her to do anything."

Melissa lets out a long sigh, "Think I was wrong?"

"About being hurt? No. That shit she said was rude," Ava said stomping the butt of the cigarette out with her heel, "But you should probably give her some slack for what came after. She tried to make it right in her own way and she came through for the kids. More than I could."

"That bad huh? Should have got a second cigarette," Melissa joke and Ava chuckled.

"You know I heard they got bottomless mimosas at that bistro on the corner. How about I treat my girls to brunch?" You said standing up with a mischievous smile, "You both need it after the day we had."

Melissa and Ava exchanged a look before accepting your outstretched hands. Ava gave you a gentle kiss before looping her arm through yours, "I knew we picked right when we chose you."

"What would we do without you?" Melissa smiled pulling you in for a kiss of her own.

"Be utterly lost," you giggled lacing your free hand through Melissa's.

The three of you walked in sync down the street. Ava's heels clicking one side of you. Melissa's boots thudding on the other side. The sound of shoes mixing in with their laughter so loud you didn't hear Barbara calling out to the three of you.

She caught up with you over an hour later when her and Gerald walked in to try the new restaurant they heard so much about. They had just sat down when she saw you pulling Melissa away from an abandoned mimosa. Ava was wrapped around you her head nuzzled into your neck. You looped your free hand around Melissa’s waist pulling her in with a laugh.

“Y/N? Ava? Melissa?” Barbara called across the restaurant and you turned to look at her with a relieved smile.

You pulled both of them over to the older woman. The giggled every step of the way Ava clinging to your hip refusing to let you take a step without her. Melissa’s arm was loop through yours so she could be pressed close to you. You stopped in front of Barbara looking in betwen the two clearly drunk woman. There was no anger in you gaze just a glimmer of humor and love.

“Barbara, can you help me? These two drunkards need to go to the bathroom but this is only a one person stall. And last time I tried to leave one at the table they took off and started stealing drinks from other tables.”

You gently unlooped Melissa from your side and placed her next Barbara. She let out a small pout until Ava leaned over and kissed her hard on the lips. Barbara’s pupils dilated as you rolled your eyes. Of course Ava would be the one to spill the secret that way. Melissa turned to you next a small pout forming on her lips.

“You act like I am going to leave you for years,” You joked leaning in to kiss her, “Me and Ava will be right back.”

“Hurry,” Melissa let out with a humpf.

There was awkward silence at the table while Gerald excused himself to take a phone call. Barb knew Melissa was PESCA level drunk with the red in her cheeks and the lightness to her attitude. She replayed the conversation from the meeting and was determined to make it right.

“So Ava?” Barbara asked trying to bridge the gap between her and her best friend, “And Y/N?”

Melissa beamed, “Those are my girls. Loves of my life. Other half of me.. well I guess my other thirds.”

Barbara smiled shyly excited to see Melissa so excited but part of her was crushed. She didn't think her and Melissa kept secrets. Especially not about something this important, “How long?”

“Bout six months,” Melissa said and looked away from Barbara’s face knowing all too well what came next.

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“I was gonna when things got real serious I thought about it so many times. I even checked with the girls and everything but then you said you leave playing in the mud to people like me,” Melissa shrugged, “That really fucking hurt. I didn’t want this to be one more thing I got judged for.”

“I'm so sorry Melissa,” Barbara said taking the other woman’s hand, “I should have never said that to you. All you ever do is help our kids and make sure they have everything they need. You are absolutely an amazing human and teacher. I'm the one who couldn't get my head out of the sand.”

Melissa smiled, “We done fighting now so I can tell you all about my girls?”

Barb nodded and listened with a grin as her best friend told her everything that happened over the last six months. When you returned with Ava she immediately stood reaching out for you. If there was one thing Barb knew about drunk Melissa was that she was clingy. Not overtly like Ava who practically molded herself to you but in a more discreet way. She wanted to be cared for. Always have her people where she could see them. And now that you were back there was an ease in her shoulders.

You smiled at the redhead and the older woman, “Y’all okay now?”

“Yes we are,” Barb smiled, “You doing okay?”

You nodded and tried to let go of Ava’s hand to let her sit at the table.

“No no no,”Ava pouted gripping your hand, “Mine.”

“Look while I take Angel to the bathroom Barb can hold your hand,” you said with a nod to the older woman.

Barb reached for Ava’s free hand and squeezed it gently, “I'm a sorry replacement for your girl but I won't let you go.”

Ava relented as she went, “Girl! Your hand is so soft what lotion do you use?”

You laughed before looping your arm through Melissa’s and guiding her towards the bathroom.

“She wanted to tell you for awhile,” Ava said randomly, “But I was scared. Of how real and serious it felt. I figured if she didn't tell you we could pretend it was just something fun we were trying out. That is so far from the truth though. I love them. Both of them. So much it hurts sometimes.”

“You better not hurt either of them. Especially Melissa. I have been trying to get her back out there after Joe for years. You hurt her and I'll use Melissa’s bat on you.”

“I don't plan on it,” Ava admitted, “I'm trying to do better by them. By everyone at Abbott. Today was not a great reflection of that.”

“We always have next time. Don't give up yet.” Barb reassured her.

It was the most candidly that Ava had ever talked to the older woman. Not a smart ass comment or joke anywhere just honesty and vulnerability. That is when it finally clicked for Barbara. How the three of you balanced each other out inside and outside of work. The relationship that y’all had built revealing layers of Melissa and Ava that had been hidden for years. She was still holding Ava’s hand when Melissa came running over with you following searching in your pocket for your keys.

“Let’s go back to my house princess,” Melissa said helping Ava up from her chair before turning to Barb, “Game night soon? With all of us.”

“I would really like that. Be safe all of you.”

“Are you sure you got them?” Gerald asked with a small laugh as Ava finally admitted defeat and held her heels in one hand.

“Yes I am all too familiar with drunk tweedle and dee. We will get home have a dance party and then they will want to nap,” You said with a laugh letting Ava curl back up against your side.

“I'm tweedle,” Melissa commented, “Or am I dee?”

You shook your head with a laugh giving the redhead a kiss on the cheek.Everyone said their goodbyes and then you were outside walking back towards the car. You stopped at the crosswalk looking at Ava before sighing, “Hop on.”

Ava did hesitate to hike her dress up around her thighs. She handed her heels to Melissa before circling her arms around your neck. You reached back and helped Ava wrap her legs around your hips. Once she was settled she smiled laying her head against her back.

“I a koala,” She joked and Melissa let out a large bark of laughter.

“I'm next,” the older woman said between the click of her camera.

Once back to the car Ava and Melissa climbed into the back seat making you the designated chauffeur. You even stopped at McDonald's to get Melissa french fries and a McFlurry for Ava. They were all smiles and laughs the stress from earlier washed away by the time you pulled into Melissa’s driveway. You looked back at them with a soft smile. Your girls being happy was all you needed.

“We both feeling better after brunch?”

“Yes, but you know what would make this day even better?” Melissa asked with a grin.

“Dance party!” Ava yelled and everyone scrambled from the car.

Once inside music instantly began to spill from the living room speakers. Melissa and Ava were screaming the lyrics to Her by Megan Thee Stallion because of course Ava had gotten the redhead addicted to her music. You used this time to gather clothes for everyone.You and Ava shared a dresser drawer where you kept a small selection of clothes for when you spent the night. You pulled on your favorite tshirt and a pair of shorts. A purple silk top and short set for Ava. A long loose Eagles shirt and boxers for Melissa.

You made your way into the living room turning down the music to get the women’s attention. You held out their clothes, “Ava that is the last set you have here. I'll text you to bring more next time.”

“Or you both could just bring all your stuff,” Melissa said casually but you caught the blush in her cheeks.

“You want us to move in with you?” Ava stopped with her shirt already off and dangling in her hand, “You sure you want us all up in your business all the time?”

“You are already up in my business all the time anyways,” Melissa retorted tossing her own shirt to the other end of the living room, “Plus what sense does it make to place rent for three places?”

“We could use the extra money to actually take a trip together,” You suggested.

“I'm in,” Ava grinned, “But only if we get to go to Jamaica.”

“You know we can't go to Jamaica without Barb.”

“Who said we were leaving her behind? Splitting a townhouse between five of us would be great since we only need two bedrooms,” Ava replied already scrolling through places on her phone.

“Can we answer my original question please?” Melissa practically yelled and you could hear the tremor of anxiety in her voice.

You and Ava were immediately by her side pulling her into a hug. You pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “Of course we will move in with you Angel.”

“There is no where else I would rather be,” Ava said kissing down the redhead’s neck before gently biting down on her pulse point.

Melissa let out a small whimper, “Bedroom now.”

You woke up hours later with a jump from a bad dream. The bedroom lay in darkness but you were immediately calmed by the two bodies pressed against yours. Melissa’s head was on your shoulder arm casually across your bare chest. She was snoring with her mouth slightly open. Ava was practically on top of with a leg over yours and her arm holding both you and Melissa. You smiled and sank back into the pillows. This was the life.

~-~

@milfjuulpod // @panerasbox // @derpyavocado // @babytakeittothehead // @yoyo-w // @cupldscntrl // @milfslvr // @liliapleasesteponme // @italianaidiota

[chloesimaginationthings]

I want you to know that because of your art, I now ship Harley Sawyer x Springtrap

Suffer the consequences of your actions

I’m shocked how many of y’all were into these two

[wolfwarrior142]

My guy don't describe the random lost scientist guy that way to Rayla of all people. That literally just describes Callum.

[andiv3r]

Having to block everyone who has "wincest dni" in their bio not because I ship wincest (because I have come to the conclusion that I actually don't) but because I do think it'd be fun to poke around at the very real weirdness of their relationship that I've noticed in the show so far. And I'm 99% sure that my poking around will get seen as shipping.

[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.

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

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