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#x-reader
thus-spoke-lo · 5 months
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cw: afab!reader. no character mentioned, but implied to be male (he/him) and well-built. reader and character implied to be older adults (reader has smile lines/light wrinkles, etc); self-doubt/body image issues discussed.
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You lay back against his bare chest, your body nestled between his spread legs, his thighs pressing into the softness of your hips. He hums and reaches across you to turn the page of his novel, lowering his hand again to settle on your stomach. The soft rise and fall underneath you isn’t enough to soothe you like it usually does, isn’t enough to keep the nagging thoughts neatly tucked away in their compartments,
“You’re restless,” he murmurs, setting his book aside and running his free hand down your arm.
“Will you still love me when I’m old?” The words leave your lips and the instant taste of regret floods your mouth.
The tip of a finger lightly drags along the outside of your mouth, tracing a smile line. “We’re not exactly young anymore, darling.”
You sigh, and suppress an annoyed smile, even though he can’t see it—he knows. “I know that. I mean like, old-old. I mean decrepit-old. I mean bog-hag-old.”
“I’ll answer your question when you look at me and tell me why you think you’re not allowed to age.”
You grunt and grumble and hoist yourself up to your knees, turning around to straddle his lap, the softness of his jogging pants brushing against the inside of your thighs. It’s hard to meet his gaze—he demands honesty, and your addled mind prefers not to be seen, not to be exposed under the harsh spotlight of his concern.
“Because.” You pause, drawing an abstract pattern over his chest, feeling the hard muscles of his form tense underneath your touch. “Because all men care, don’t they?”
“About?”
“About looks. About youth.” Your voice is cracking. You’re louder than you ought to be—this is all louder than it ought to be, every miserable bit of it. “About having some pretty young thing on your arm. About a tight body and perky tits and—well, you know.”
All that shit that I don’t have.
He places his hands on the sides of your face, his thumbs grazing the crinkles around your eyes. He breathes in deep, seems to consider the weight of your worry as he tilts his head, the corners of his mouth raising and lowering as he examines the pain that has etched itself in your features, years of experiences written all over your skin.
“You exist in a body well-lived. And you’ll live it in even more. And I’ll live in mine even more. And I’ll still want to rail you every waking moment,” he says with a grin, letting a hand drift down to cup your ass, squeeze it through the cotton briefs that cover your warm skin. “Just as much I assume you’ll want my old ass to keep railing you.”
“Of course I do. And I will.” You lean in and place soft kisses along his jaw, down his neck to his clavicle. God he’s hard to resist, even when you’re sad and fucked up over nothing except your own anxiety.
“Well, then it’s settled.” His hands settle on your waist and grips you, lets his fingers sink into the soft, pliable flesh that memorizes his touch like memory foam.
You chew on your lower lip, swallowing down a hiccuped sob. He can see the way your eyes glisten with tears, but you choose to pretend he cannot, that you appear stoic and unfeeling, even though you’re falling apart at the seams. “Will you say it, then? Please?”
He wraps his arms around your back and pulls you against him, his heart beating under you, beating only for you. He holds you tightly, firm arms like steel cables strapping you to him, and you wish he could just squeeze the doubt out of you, wring you out like a wet washcloth and rid you of your bullshit. But his warmth, and his soft sigh, and the steady rhythm of his love in his ribs will have to suffice.
“I’ll still love you when you’re old. I promise.”
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peregrine21 · 5 months
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(photo from pinterest)
quick reminder for y'all to fill out the updated tag list for me please! (2 posts down, the form specifically says updated in the title) apologies for any inconveniences, there was some confusion on the original and some usernames didn't register, there is also a new character/fandom added (Larissa Weems, Wednesday).
~~to the fic :)
Elegantly off schedule - Miss Peregrine x Reader
Pairing: Alma Peregrine x Reader
Includes: fluff, gorgeous gorgeous Alma
Warnings: slight jealousy on y/n’s part? But its alr Alma helps <3
Word Count: 508
Brief Description: Mini fic of Alma being gorg and putting y/n in absolute awe with her elegance and grace and beauty before they go on a dinner date. (tiktok prompt).
~~~
You’d already been waiting 15 minutes for Alma to come downstairs for your dinner date. It wasn’t like her to be late or take this long to even get ready for a date night. You had planned ahead anyway– something you’d picked up from Alma– so you weren't worried about missing your reservation. You just wanted to make sure she was alright and not rush her. Ever since Barron had showed up that one day, you couldn’t help but be anxious. You walked up to her room and gently knocked on the door to check on her, “Alma, darling, is everything alright? Do you need anything?” You stood there waiting for a response, and after a moment, she finally responded, “I’m alright love, I’ll be down soon!” You descended the stairs once more and sat on one of the chaises in the parlor as you waited, picking up the book you’d left on the side table earlier. Your dress splayed out on the chaise and the floor as you sat. Only a few pages in, you heard Alma’s door open and close again. You placed the book back on the table and looked up towards the staircase expectantly. As you heard her heels click rhythmically down the stairs, your heart started pounding out of your chest. You’d been together years now, but every date still felt like the first. 
Alma finally appeared at the top of the stair landing. The sight of her left you absolutely awestruck. She’d always dressed nicely for your dates but never to this caliber. She wore a floor length black dress with an off-the-shoulder neckline and a double slit in the front of the skirt revealing her delectable legs as she descended the staircase. Her hair was curled and pinned up in elegant perfection and her makeup done to match. You hardly processed her descending the stairs from the pure awe you were in admiring her beauty. When she made it down the staircase and approached you, your senses were filled with her perfume that you’d bought her for your last anniversary– the one she only brought out on special occasions. Between her appearance and the perfume, you were in absolute ecstasy; It made you want to scoop her in your arms bridal style and carry her back into her room. 
Your mood dropped however after a few moments passed and you could come down to your senses a bit. If she sent you over the moon this easily, imagine the other people round town and in the restaurant you were going to. Imagine the cat calls and the other people trying to steal her attention as she passes by them in all her elegance and grace. A pair of taloned hands cradled your cheeks, pulling you out of your thoughts, “I’m yours darling,” she whispered, smiling at you, “Only yours, no one else's. Understand?” You look into her eyes in awe once more and nod silently. She pulls you closer into a loving kiss before you both head off to dinner together.
~~~
@lexi1109 @perfectlightexpertfriend @xYourlostwifexoxo @Joshuastuff22 @theyearis2040 @darlingimlostwithout @jestercat28 @ravie-ray @queerpersonified @emsmultiverse @ann08267 @ilovewomenmen2 @aliceis-75 @princessoofolympus @atlas-reader
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Promises between Roommates
Full Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist
Summary: You promised your best friends, Robin Buckley and Walter Miller, that you wouldn't fall for one of your roommates, but that promise has since been broken. You and Steve Harrington had been together for a few months and have surprisingly kept it a secret. However, as things progress, the two debate on confessing the truth to their roommates.
Notes:
Y/N/N - Your Nick Name
Walter is your other roommate!
Briefly based on New Girl, because why not?
Warnings:
Language
Sexual Innuendos
Slight smut (maybe??)
Steve Harrington x-reader
"Yellow or blue?" Robin held up each sweater. "Green," Y/N answered, not taking her attention away from her textbook. Robin's shoulders dropped. "You're not even looking," she said. Her arms lowered, still holding both sweaters. Y/N sighed and set her book to the side.
Robin thanked her friend and put the two sweaters beside her. She put each one in front of her. "Blue. It matches your eyes," Y/N said. "See, that's all I needed," Robin replied. She walked into her room to get changed, keeping the door open to still talk to her friend. "What're you even changing for?" Y/N shouted.
Robin stepped out of her room and untucked her hair from the collar. "I've got that band event this weekend," she answered, "And I'm trying to see which outfit I like best." Robin walked into the kitchen to grab something to eat.
She took out a bag of chips and joined her friend on the couch. Robin reached for the TV remote. "So, I was thinking," she shoved a handful of chips into her mouth, "We could stop by Hawkins High to watch them play this weekend." She wiped her hands on a napkin, gesturing the bag to Y/N.
The two of them shared the bag of chips. "Sounds like fun," Y/N said. "Cool. I'll ask the guys if they want to come," Robin put the bag on the coffee table. She turned on the TV to see if her favorite show was on, which was a stupid reality show.
"How can you watch this?" Y/N gestured to the screen. "This show is great. It's got romance, violence, and the occasional comedic bit," Robin explained, waving her hands around. Y/N ducked so Robin couldn't hit her in the face. "You forgot the hot babes part," Y/N winked.
This time, Robin hit Y/N in the face. "Hey! Let let me watch this girl fight," Walter said, opening the door to their apartment. Y/N pushed Robin's arm away from her face, ignoring the look on Robin's face. "Jar," Steve said, pointing to the glass jar on the shelf.
Walter looked at Steve, then to Robin and Y/N. "Two dollars this time," Y/N said. Walter rolled his eyes and dug his wallet out of his jean jacket. "Here. Two Washingtons," Walter said. "Add another 'Washington', big boy," Steve walked past Walter, patting him on the shoulder. Walter groaned.
Steve chuckled to himself and joined the girls on the couch. Instinctively, Steve put his arm over the back of the couch, using it as an excuse to sit closer to Y/N. Walter rolled his eyes and sat down on the recliner beside the leather sofa. "Oh, hot g-" Walter began. "No! Don't ruin this show for me," Robin said, preventing him from speaking.
Y/N snickered at Walter's expression. He yanked the blanket from the ground, grunting when the fleece got stuck at the edge of the recliner's leg rest. "Oh! I know that chick!" Walter pointed. "When're you going to stop calling girls 'chicks'?" Steve asked.
He quirked a brow when Walter struggled to think of an answer. Walter closed his mouth when he didn't speak. Y/N yawned, not hesitating to put her head on Steve's shoulder. He smiled to himself at her resting close to him.
Steve looked around the living room before discreetly kissing the top of Y/N's head. Y/N smiled when she felt Steve linger for a few seconds before leaning back with his arms still over the couch. The two of them had been secretly dating for about four months.
They were proud of themselves for keeping their relationship at a down low. However, sometimes it felt like they were living in hell because they couldn't display their affection out in the open. It was especially hell when their roommates would try to set them up on dates.
And sometimes, they'd go on those dates and would purposefully ruin them with comments or random stories. Y/N was hoping that Robin wouldn't notice anything since she was the one that created the rule: No dating roommates.
Whoever broke that rule wasn't something that Y/N and Steve thought of. Although, if someone was curious, it was both of them that broke the promise. As cliche as it sounds. There was a party, and some alcohol was involved, leading to a shared kiss and a night between Y/N and Steve.
Then that caused a few more excuses for hanging out individually, heading to one another rooms after everyone fell asleep, and any reason to touch each other. The more they did it, the more they became professionals.
"Okay, so Shelly fell in love with Ryan, but Ryan has a thing for Polly, Shelly's sister," Walter said.
He pointed at the TV, gesturing to each person. Robin nodded in response as she finished up the bag of chips from earlier. "Huh," Walter said, crossing his arms in thought. "I don't blame Shelly for falling for Ryan. Ryan is a hunk," Walter said.
They all turned to Walter as he looked at the reality show. Robin's mouth fell open. "What?" Walter said, "Shit. Is that another dollar?" She shook her head to prevent herself from laughing. "Nope. That's a dollar out of the douche jar," she said.
Robin reached over and took out a dollar from the jar. She throws it to Walter. He caught it with ease, stuffing it into the pocket of his jeans. "Do you have something you'd like to tells us, Walt?" Y/N said, her head still on Steve's shoulder. "What? No," Walter shook his head.
___________
(Later That Night)
Y/N sat beside Steve, her head lying on his chest as he ran a hand along her arm. They stared up at the ceiling with the slight hum from Steve's radio. It was about twelve-thirty in the morning, and Y/N had just snuck into Steve's room after Walter and Robin fell asleep.
This had become a normal occurance between the two of them. They had ran their plan at telling their friends over and over again, but there always seemed to be a flaw in their plans. It mainly started with Steve explaining to Walter that he found a girl and then confessing that it was Y/N.
Then, Y/N would do the same thing, telling Robin that she found someone, stating that it was Steve. It didn't seem like the worst idea, but they'd always think of something wrong. "What if we did, like, an extravagant proposal thing?" Steve suggested. Y/N furrowed her brows.
She sat up with her arms propping herself up. Steve smirked as she practically leaned over him. "How would that work? I mean, if you want something extravagant, we could just go up to them and say: Hey, we're dating. And we're going to stay dating, no matter what," I said.
He reached up and kissed Y/N deeply, putting his arms around her to bring her to his lap. "I don't hate the sound of that," Steve said. Y/N chuckled, her legs wrapped around his waist. Steve's smile grew at the sound of Y/N's laugh. He gazed at his girlfriend in admiration.
"I don't know how much I've expressed this, but it's literal hell when I can't kiss you or touch you in any way in public," Steve said. "You've mentioned it a few times," Y/N smirked. Steve leaned forward, kissing her intently.
She smiled into the kiss and couldn't help but gasp in surprise when Steve hovered over her. "I care about you so much," Steve said, breaking in between words to kiss her. She felt goosebumps rise when Steve's hands wandered. Y/N set a hand on Steve's when he went to undo the buttons of her cardigan.
He stopped kissing her, looking Y/N in the eyes. "They're in the rooms next door if you forgot," Y/N said. "I'll be quiet," he claimed, undoing the bottom button of the knitted cardigan. "Steve Harrington, you're never quiet," Y/N spoke, her voice in a partial whisper.
Steve didn't even try to keep himself from smiling, just enjoying the moment he was having. "I'll be quiet this time," Steve insisted. Y/N rolled her eyes, swiftly taking her cardigan off despite the buttons still secured together. "First one to make a noise loses," Steve said. "Okay, that's not fair," Y/N replied, shivering when Steve attacked her neck with kisses.
__________
(The Next Day)
Robin had been asking Y/N who the new guy was all morning. Y/N had told her that she had been on a date a few times, which was obviously Steve. Robin sat on Y/N's bed, flipping through a magazine that she had stolen from Y/N. "So, when can we meet him?" Robin asked.
Y/N shook her head and looked back at Robin, turning around in her desk chair. "I'm not telling you," Y/N said. She stood up from the chair to grab a sweatshirt. Steve had left a few marks on Y/N's neck. She was trying to cover it up a little bit because she knew Walter would make some comment.
"Why not? From what you've said, he sounds attractive. For you, not for me," Robin said. Y/N tilted her head at Robin's statement. Oh, if Robin only knew that she just blindly called Steve attractive, she'd barf. "We're just not at the level yet," Y/N answered.
Which wasn't a total lie. Steve and Y/N had planned on telling their roommates that day but were still hesitant about the whole thing. "Okay, but when you do. Walter, Steve, and I better be the first people you introduce," Robin said, "I seem to have an accurate red flag radar."
Robin went back to reading the magazine, flipping the corner on some pages to save her spot. "Actually, do Walter and Steve even know that you've started to date someone?" Robin looked up from the page. Y/N shook her head and sat back down at her desk. "Steve does. And, I tend to keep Walter out of the blue," she said, "You know how he gets when I talk about my love life."
Robin chuckled to herself, nodding alone. Walter was infamous for making any sex joke he could. This is why Robin, Steve, and Y/N had established the 'douche jar'. If he said anything remotely close to sex or something shitty, he had to put in any amount of money his friends told him to.
It has become a running joke between them. Sometimes, it felt like Walter was just doing it so he could say a joke that had been marinating in his head. "Speaking of Walter, I feel like we need to get a second douche jar. The first one is starting to overfill," Robin commented. Y/N nodded as she chuckled.
Steve walked over to Y/N's bedroom and lightly knocked on the doorframe. Y/N broke her focus from her book to look at him. She smiled at the sight of his grin. "Robs, can I talk to Y/N for a minute?" he asked. "Sure thing," Robin replied. She stood up from the bed, patting Steve's shoulder as she left the room.
Steve closed the door and sat down on Y/N's bed. "What's up, Steve?" Y/N asked. Steve leaned forward and dragged her to him as she sat on the office chair. "Hi," he said, his face close to hers. "Hi," Y/N repeated. Steve kissed her lips before leaning back, his hands still sitting on her knees.
"Did you just come in here to kiss me, or did you need something?" Y/N asked. Steve sighed and lightly pushed Y/N back to the desk. Y/N rolled her eyes as the back of the chair hit the edge of the desk. She joined Steve on the bed. "So, I-" he stopped himself when he saw the poorly covered hickies.
He ran a hand over the side of Y/N's neck. Y/N grabbed his wrist, lowering his arm so she could hold his hand. "If you're here to make a horrible pickup line, I'm gonna have to ask you to add to the jar," Y/N said, not bothering to cover up her smirk.
_______
(Later That Day)
It was Walter's turn to make dinner, but Robin insisted that she help him, given his inability to keep the kitchen together. Y/N sat comfortably in the living room, watching TV and listening to her friends argue.
"Are you two done?" Y/N looked over the back of the couch, "Because I feel like all I'm hearing is Robin spewing things about Walter's poor measurement skills. And Walter stating how controllable Robin is."
Walter threw a dish towel at Y/N, hitting her on the back of the head. "Ow, that hurt so much," Y/N joked, eating a laugh from Robin. Steve walked into the apartment after finishing up a long shift from work. He winked at Y/N as he spotted her sitting on the couch.
He hated not being able to kiss her on the forehead after coming home. It was something he looked forward to when Robin or Walter weren't home. Y/N got up from the couch to greet Steve at the door. She quickly kissed him on the cheek, thanking the wall for partially blocking them.
Steve leaned in for another kiss but was rudely interrupted when Walter peeked his head over the wall. "Stevo, dude! How was work?" he cheered, his arms going out. Steve squeezed Y/N's shoulder before walking into the kitchen. Y/N followed pursuit, wiping away the shade of pink that appeared on her cheeks.
"Good," Steve answered. He set his wallet and keys on the counter. Robin took Walter by the shoulder and pushed him towards the sink, pointing at the dirty dishes. "I thought Walter was making dinner," Steve said. "He's supposed to, but not surprisingly, Robin stepped in to help," Y/N responded, joining his side.
A few more minutes passed, and dinner was finally ready. The four of them ate in the living room despite there being a full dining table. As usual, Steve sat in the middle of Y/N and Robin while Walter was in his favorite chair in the house.
Y/N finished up her meal and grabbed everyone's plates to put them into the dishwasher. Steve got up to help her. "Hey," Steve set a hand on her waist.
"You ready?" he asked. He looked over his shoulder to find Walter talking about some girl he met at the store today. Y/N nodded and dropped the sponge. After cleaning the kitchen, Steve and Y/N walked back over to the leather sofa. Robin had turned on the reality show she loved.
Walter had grown to like it and even asked her to turn it on. Steve nudged Y/N's shoulder, letting her know that he would initiate the conversation. "So, Y/N, how's that guy you're seeing?" Steve asked, taking a sip of his drink to hide his smile. Walter's head swiveled to Y/N at the sound of Steve's statement.
"He's good. We're doing great," she answered, "I'm actually seeing him tonight." Steve nodded, ignoring Walter's expression. Robin sat to the left of Y/N with a smile on her face. "What's his name?" Walter asked, leaning forwards. He rested his chin on his hands.
He grinned at her, trying to pry more information out of Y/N. "Steve," Y/N answered. Walter's face contorted in confusion, but Robin immediately connected the dots. She sat upright to face Steve and Y/N, who sat beside her. Walter glanced between the three, slowly understanding why Robin had acted like that.
"Holy shit. You two are dating?" Walter said. He pointed to Y/N and Steve. He began laughing uncontrollably, mainly laughing at the sight of Robin. "You're telling me that I called Steve attractive earlier?" she said. Her face suddenly changed to a look of disgust. She covered her mouth. "I'm gonna puke," she said.
"Okay! I'm not that bad-looking," Steve replied, putting his hands up in the air. Robin stood up from the couch with her hands on her hips. "You two promised. You promised that you wouldn't date!" Robin exclaimed. "Well, in their defense, I did date Cece for a bit until she moved out last month," Walter said.
Robin whipped her head to Walter, even more, bewildered than a second ago. "Were you the reason why she moved out?" she said. "Maybe, maybe not," Walter shrugged. He leaned back with his hands resting behind his head. "More on that later," Robin said. She pointed a finger at him before turning back to Y/N and Steve.
The longer she looked at them, the more she realized how much Y/N cared for Steve. Robin remembered how happy Y/N looked when she talked about Steve. And she remembered how happy Steve looked when he spoke to Y/N or helped her out. Robin suddenly felt stupid for not realizing it sooner.
"Uh oh. What's that expression on your face? I don't like it," Y/N said, grimacing at the look on her friend's face. Robin let out a heavy sigh and pinched the area between her brows. She sat back down, putting a hand on Y/N's knee. "I'm okay with it," she said.
Both Y/N and Steve were surprised by the sudden response. They didn't think they'd ever get that type of reaction. Especially since the three of them have known one another since high school. But! If we're being honest, Y/N and Steve have always had feelings for one another.
It just took living with each other to realize how much they cared for one another. "You two seem grossly cute. And no matter how much it freaks me out, I can see how happy you make each other," Robin expressed. "Good. Because I was gonna date her regardless of what you said," Steve said. He put an arm around Y/N's shoulders, bringing her to his chest.
Taglist: @ramaalkayyali @b-ritney @midnightstar-90 @nix-rose
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jj-lynn21 · 2 years
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THE PARTY YACHT
warnings 18+, smut, angsty, fun,
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 The whole week had been hazy and hot. Temperatures reaching 100 degrees Fahrenheit. Bill and his love had been working overtime at their jobs. Their first day of three-day weekend started out with pure slothiness.  
Bill woke first. After slipping on some cloths, he quietly snuck out of the bedroom to make some morning coffee. He sipped on some before returning with her cup. He put it right under her nose to rouse her with the aroma. She blinked a few times before open her eyes to his smile and the mug of life. She snugged close to him as she finished her hot brew.  
He leaned down to kiss her slow and deep as his hand put the coffee cup on the stand. It had been a few weeks since they had been so intimate, so they took the morning very slowly. Love and exstacy rolled over their bodies as they satisfied what they were missing.  
After their morning romp they headed to the kitchen for more coffee and food. She wore his big burnt orange sweater with grey sweatpants and pink and white pock-a-dot fuzzy slippers. Thier house was an ice box contrasting to the heat outside. With Bill’s Nordic blood he still lounged in a white t-shirt, navy sweatpants, and bare feet. He bumped her and she giggled as she stirred up pancake mix. Bill made eggs bacon and sausages.
“Blueberries, or chocolate chips in these?” She asked.  
“Both.” Bill replied. “How about I chop up some pecan also?” He had been on a strict diet for shooting but now that it was all over, he was ready to splurge. “Lots of syrup.”
She laughed. “Okay, sounds perfect.” She sprinkled the chocolate chip morsels and the blueberries in the pancake batter. “Do you have a pan over there ready for these?”
“All buttered up.” He put some batter in a pan making a perfect circle. After a few moments he flipped them. Then dissed up the eggs and sausage.
She made the table up while he finished cooking the huge feast. She freshened up their coffee but also poured them some orange juice. She put out some grapes and strawberries, honey, and syrup. He setup all the cooked food. They ate most everything they made.
They lounged on the couch watching movies and eating snacks the rest of the day. Her in his lap feeling safe, loved, and warm. If you would have asked either of them, it was the perfect way spend the day after weeks without a break from work. She fell asleep there right in his arms, so he carried her up to bed. He slid in beside her with a book he was looking forward to reading but drifted off with his glasses on soon after he started. When his love woke in the night, she took his glasses off him before sliding out of bed to get a glass of water.  
They eat a little lighter the next day. Mimosas and fruit by the pool. Bill looks over at her body glistening in the sunshine. They are both sun kissed.  
“I think we should do something fun today.” He suggests.
“Like what?” She questioned. “I have fun just hanging here with you.”
“Yeah, this is great.” He finishes off his drink. “We have not seen our friends and family in a few weeks.”
“That is true.” She ponders. “What do you suggest? If you plan something, you know I will follow.” She finished her drink and held it up to him. “Refill?”
Bill grabs her glass. “I will bring you a bottled water. You need to stay hydrated in this heat.”
“I can swim to cool off from the heat.” She whined.
He laughed. “You can do that if you want, but I will also bring you some water.”
She jumped in the cool water as he walked inside. He called his siblings, friends, cousins, and her friends. He had a plan. He called the docks next for the biggest party boat available. One friend was a DJ, so boat had to have electrical hookup for equipment. Next, he called a caterer.  
As she stepped out of the pool Bill was there with her robe and a smile. “Get on one of your prettiest summer dresses with the new bathing suit I bought you for swim parties underneath. I rented a party boat and invited everyone we know.”
Her jaw dropped. “Really?”
“Yep, it's time to have a fun time before another shoot Starts in about a week. I will have to start prepping as soon as they send me the script.”
“Let’s not think about future work obligations.” She smiled and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “It is time for good times with family and friends. Do we need a picnic or beverages?”
“I have it all covered, babe.” He slapped her bottom. “Just go get ready for fun.”
They pulled into the docks at the same time as Valter who had a car loud of friends. There were fist pumps and hugs of greeting as they all walked towards the music being played on the party yacht.  
The yacht was three levels. On the highest level a d DJ was set up playing the hottest summer tunes. A small buffet of wings, herring, salad, and mixed fruit in a watermelon was also setup on the top deck. A cooler with beers, wine and a variety of other drinks were near the table. There was also a slide right into the water off the top deck.  
There was plenty of room on the middle level on the bow and stern of the yacht for dancing and mingling. Bill just wanted to talk to everyone as the yacht pulled away from the dock. He was a social butterfly when in the mood. His girl on the other hand just talked to a small group of friends. Too much of a crowd made her anxious.  
Bill comes over and snakes a hand around her waist as he says hello to her friends. He was always watching her from afar and realized her discomfort in the crowd. “Excuse us.” He grins “Its slide time.”  
She throw her dress off to a chair, Then she pretends to fight him flailing her legs and arms as he carried her to the stairs for the slid. She climbed the stairs hesitantly. Bill was right behind her eager for the splash in the refreshing ocean water.
She turned to him as they got to the top of the slide. “You are going with me, right?”
Bill chuckled. “Okay.”
She sat with her legs together holding the sides until they were both ready. Bill sat with his legs around hers and his arms around her. “You can let go of the sides now baby girl. I got you.’
“When I am ready.” She looked down what seemed to be a huge slope.  
He grabbed her hands pulling them up in the air. They slid quickly. She screamed and he laughed as they plunged into the chilly water. She clung to him when they appeared from under the water. Bill treading water to keep both afloat. Others swam around them after sliding.
“You jerk.” She laughed as she pushed his head under the water.  
He popped back up. “You loved it.”
“Not the point.” She started swimming back to the boat.
“So, we are going to do it again?” He swam by her side.
“Of course.” She beat him to the ladder to get back on the yacht by one stroke when she pushed off him for leverage.  
They played on the slide laughing and splashing each other in the water until they were about too tired to swim to the ladder. They decided to take a break. Hunger was heavy in their stomachs. They stood near the buffet.  
“You didn’t get any herring on your plate.” He offered her a bite. “Try it. It tastes great.”  
She wrinkles her nose. “I’m not so sure.”
“Come on.” He pouts his lip. His emerald gaze looking at her pleading.
She rolls her eyes and takes the bite he offers. It was salty on her tongue. A flaky fish she had never tried before. She swallowed. “Mm good.”
“Hey, Bill.” A group of guys waved for him to come over. They were holding a box of cigars.
“Are you good, Babe?” He scarfed the rest of the food on his plate waiting for her to excuse him.
She laughed. “Go play with the boys. I’m fine.”
Bill hugged and kissed her gentle before going to hang with his boys. She sat down on a bench with her plate to nibble. Two girls with long blond pony tales looked over at her. She would have thought they were twins with their matching bodycon dress, but one had blue eyes and the other brown. Plus, one had a little bit of chestnut brown roots showing. She was obviously trying too hard to be like her friend.  
“Hi, I am Misty, and this is Kristy.” The girls smiled as if they were taught to do so no matter what. “We saw you talking to Bill. He does not talk to every girl. What is your secret?”
She giggles. “I don’t have a secret. We have been dating for months.”
“No sir.” The girls say in unison shaking their heads no.  
“How?” Misty thought aloud. “What is your profession that YOU (she emphasized the word like it was ugly) got a Skarsgard.”
“Nothing special.” she frowned
“We are models.” Misty smirked.
Kristy also smirked. “We were invited by Valter who we met at a club last night. Well, his bodyguard invited us.”
Misty glared at Kristy.
“What?” Kristy said. “It still counts he wanted us here.”
Bill’s girl tried not to laugh at them. “That is a good job. I bet you run into actors all the time.”
“What about you?” Misty seethed. “What is this nothing special job that got you so close to a Skarsgard?”
“I just work in a cloths story.” She laughed uncomfortably. “I was working when Bill came in for a new shirt when he dumped coffee on his dress shirt on the way to an interview. He bought five shirts that day. I helped him find what he needed quickly. He came back every day asking for me to help finding outfits. Then eventually he asked when my break was so we could grab a coffee.”
“What a cute story.” Misty rolled her eyes to Kristy. “Don’t get to use to him. Skarsgards are notorious Flirts. You think you have one and then they are off to the next shop girl or whatever. He probably has his eye on another girl right now.”  
Misty and Kristy grin evilly as the girl tries to scan the crowd for Bill. There is another girl that has joined their boys club. She is talking to Bill and giggling. Could he fall for that? Is he really going to move on so quickly? She thinks deep down it was crazy to think someone as beautiful as him could really love her.  
“Excuse me.” She politely gets up. Her eyes burn with tears as she grabs a bottle of whatever was on ice. She has the feeling to flee. But where do you go on a yacht full of people? She found her way down to the cabin below deck. It was cozy with a large couch, two tables, and a few chairs. There was a small restroom where she went to splash some water on her face. Luckily, she had good water-proof mascara that did not run down her face like her tears. She sat on the couch taking big swigs of the wine.
Bill, meanwhile, started glancing around for her. He had been checking up on her from afar. But he did not see her anywhere. The last he saw she was laughing with two air heads that followed his little brother Valter. He walked around the deck causally looking for her. Then he decided to look below decks. There she was. Huddle on the couch. She looked up to him with red eyes.
He locked the door and rushed to her putting his cigar down on the nearby table before holding her. “Did the crowd get to you sweetheart?”
She shook her head “no” as it was buried in his chest.
He lifted her head to look at him. “Tell me what’s wrong.” his voice more commanding.  
“Are you looking for new girl?” she could barely look in his eyes. Part of her did not really want to know. She wanted the bliss of thinking her loved only her.  
He was shocked by the question. “Why would you say that?”
“Are you?” She slid to the floor.
He got down the floor to hold her again. “No, I’m not here for anyone but you.” He kissed her deep to drive home the point. “I don’t want anyone at this party but you.” He kissed her again as she clung around him,
She kissed him back. Need arising in both quickly. Bill slid his wet swim trunks off. Then slid her bottoms off. When she took her top off, he just stared a moment. Then he laid her back on the floor. The carpet was fluffy to comfort her position.
“You are so beautiful.” He kissed her neck as he readied himself. “Never let anyone tell you how I feel for you. Or make you feel I might not care.” He eased his manhood inside her tightness.
She took a deep breath wrapping her legs around his waist. “I’ll try. I just don’t think I deserve you sometimes.” She gasped as got fully sheathed.
“It is me who got lucky to find a girl like you.” He breathed “who takes all of me so well.” 
He was huge in all sorts of ways. It made her feel safe and loved in this moment of passion unbridled. As they were reaching for their height of pleasure someone tried the door. Then they knocked.  
“Hey, I have to use the bathroom.” Valter screamed as he pounded on the door again.  
“Go piss in the water.” Bill groaned out.
“Fuck, Bill is that you?” Valters seethed. “I have to take a shit, unlock the door.”
“No.” He grinned a little as he was performing. His girl whined. “Shhh I got you all the way babe.”  
“Come on man.” Valter screamed.
“Go...in... the... lake.” His words emphasized with each thrust.  
“Fuck you man.” Valter retorted. “Your gross.”
The passion in the room climaxed into blissed after glow. Bill rolled on to his back and pulled her close in an embrace. He kissed her cheek before getting up. He got his shorts on and sat on the couch. As he reached for his cigar, he looked to his girl recuperating. “When you are ready, we can catch the sunset.”  
She got up and got her swimwear back on. With a smile on her face, she took his hand. “Let's go enjoy the sunset.”
Valter was still at the door when Bill opened it. She blushed as she passed. But Bill got in his face. “The Barbie twins are not to follow you to another one of my parties.”  
“No, problem just let me through.” He lightly pushed Bill out of the way so he could get to the restroom.
The couple made it above deck just has the sun was dipping into the horizon.She found her dress to slide on over her swimwear. The embraced as they watched the sunset. The colors were a beautiful yellow, orange and read. It was a perfect view for a mostly amazing day as the yacht headed back to the shore.
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lizardzomboni · 2 years
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The Woman In Your Heart (TF2)
Spy x Reader (kind of lol)
Tags: angst, no happy ending, empath reader (I think)
Words: 1454
A/N: Had this idea after I finished reading the TF2 comics. I couldn’t get it out of my head, so I dropped my school work just to write this. Hope you enjoy :)
Btw, This is meant to be gender neutral. I typically write female readers, so I hope I didn’t slip up. Tell me, and I’ll fix it right away!
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It was finally happening. The elusive masked man was in your arms, his lips brushing against yours.
The kiss wasn’t electrifying. It wasn’t sensual. It wasn’t even magical. It was tentative, almost fearful. Your lips barely touched his, only the tiniest amount of pressure between you. Your hands trailed up his chest and wrapped around his neck, hinting that you wanted more. He took your invitation and flushed you against him. You moved slowly as the two of you tested the waters. 
Eventually, he turned his head for a deeper kiss, and you granted him access to your mouth. You dreamed of this day. You fantasized how his tongue would explore every inch of your hungry mouth. He tasted just like you imagined he would: smoke and spice. But there was something else. 
Guilt. 
You couldn’t explain how you knew. You tried to ignore it, but it became so strong that it overwhelmed your senses. In the end, you couldn’t take it, so you forced yourself to break the kiss. With a beating heart, and trepidation swirling in your chest, you opened your eyes to meet his blues ones. To your dismay, he had turned his face away from you. However, you could still see the regret buried underneath his uncertainty. 
Your heart squeezed. He was thinking of the other woman—the one he had loved all those years ago. You wish you didn’t know anything about her. It would have been easier then.
If you were left in the dark, you wouldn’t hesitate to pursue this man with the persistence you were infamous for. You would do anything and everything to seduce him and make him yours. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.
You had done your research on all the mercenaries when you first joined the team. Spy was the most difficult to get information on, but you managed to get your hands on some scrap. His love life, for example.
You considered killing her; maybe he would finally move on if she were dead. He didn’t need to know that you were the murderer. Creating cold cases was your specialty, after all. Frustratingly enough, the very woman you wanted to kill was the mother of other your teammate. 
The two men you cared deeply for loved this…this woman. You hated that you couldn’t even insult her in your thoughts. As long as she was alive, you would always be second place. 
You burned holes into Spy’s head. That man still refused to look at you. You pressed your lips together into a thin line before lightly pushing him away. He let go immediately, crushing your pride and solidifying your resolve. 
You realized that even if his old lover were dead, Spy would still put her above you. He would never hold you the way you wanted him to. He would only dance with her ghost. You never stood a chance.
Finally, he met your eyes. You almost scoffed at the sight of his confusion. The ache that previously plagued you morphed into blazing anger. Just what could he possibly be confused about? Was it the way you backed off? Was it the way your face hardened? Did he not understand the situation? 
He murmured your name, and you suppressed a scowl. You didn’t want your real name falling from that man’s lips. Names were sacred, especially in your line of work. You felt like he led you on, giving you hope when his choice was already made. 
“Don’t, Spy. Just…stop,” you said, hating the way your voice was quivering. 
“But mon petit, I-”
“Enough with the pet names! You’re just making it worse. Spy, I fell in love with you,” you confessed, but he already knew that. “I wanted to be with you. I wanted to give you my all, but I don’t want to be yours if I’m not your everything as well. She is the woman in your heart, Spy, There is no room for me.”
You quieted and looked at the ground. “I know about your previous lover. It’s been over twenty years, and you’re still hung up on her.”
“My feelings for you are genuine too,” he replied weakly. 
This time you didn’t hold back a scoff. “Is that supposed to comfort me? You’re so stupid,” you snapped. “Whatever you feel for me pales in comparison to your love for her. You really think that makes me feel better?!”
He kept his mouth shut. For the first time today, he was using his brain. His blue eyes were downcast, lips frowning as he stood motionless in front of you. He had the gall to look ashamed, and while you hated it, you also couldn’t help but revel at the sight of it. You wanted him to hurt. You wanted him to wallow in remorse. You wanted him to berate himself whenever he thought of you. 
“You should have just refused me, Spy. You should have just left me alone from the very start.” He just stared at you, and it made you angrier. “I’m leaving. Don’t ever try to contact me again.”
With that, you left. He didn’t even try to call you back.
You stormed through the halls of the base, ignoring all the questions from the other mercenaries as you passed by. There was only one person you wanted to see. You grabbed a phone and dialed in the assistant’s number. 
“Pauling here,” you heard on the other side of the receiver. 
“Meet me at the shack,” you ordered. It was a place only you, Pauling, and the Administrator knew about. 
The other woman was silent before a serious, “Understood.” The line went dead, and you hopped on your motorcycle, not bothering with a helmet.
The shack was about a day away from the base, but you arrived in a mere six hours by breaking numerous driving laws and trespassing on many private properties. Everyone can go screw themselves. 
Pauling was already there when you arrived at your destination. She greeted you, but you only gave her a curt nod and walked inside. You heard the door close, but you kept staring out the window. It wasn’t until Pauling called your name that you turn around to face her. 
“I want out,” you said flatly. 
She blinked before collecting herself, “You know you can’t do that, otherwise we will have to kill you.”
“Then station me somewhere else, Miss Pauling. I can’t work with those men anymore.”
The assistant made her way to the poor excuse of a couch against the wall. Dust puffed up when she sat down, making her wrinkle her nose. “Did something happen between you and the others?” Pauling asked. 
“Only with one of them. I…” you trailed off. You felt bad about leaving the rest of the mercenaries behind just because of your fall out with Spy. They were good men, good friends. You really didn’t want to let them go, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be around the only man you have ever loved. Leaving was selfish, but you were a selfish person at your core. “The group is too tightly interwoven,” you explained, crossing your arms. “Having issues with one of the members will only make things awkward during missions.”
“But all of the members have issues with each other.”
You snapped at her, glaring fiercely, “This is different.”
She paused. “Can I ask what hap-”
“No.”
Pauling clamped up and averted her gaze. “Okay,” she sighed. “I’ll talk to the Administrator about this matter. Will you be staying here for the time being?”
“...Yes,” you said. Without the base to go back to, you had nowhere else to go. “I’ll be here.”
“I will be back a few days. Do take care of yourself till then,” Pauling said tenderly. Then she left. 
You almost desperately wanted to call her back, to plead not to leave you alone, to spill everything that happened and let your emotions pour out of you. You squashed those desires as quickly as they arose. You survived this long because you kept to yourself. You never opened up. At least, until you met Spy. Look how that turned out. 
You sat on the spot Pauling was on only a few minutes ago. You waited for the sound of her car to leave, and soon you were encompassed with deafening silence. As you held your head in your hands, tears finally fell from your eyes. For the first time in years, you sobbed and wailed out all the pain in your heart. It’s not like anybody would hear you; the shack was miles away from any sort of civilization.
You were alone again. Just like you ought to be. Just like you always will be.
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adrenaline-void · 1 year
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only on the internet can you read obnoxiously straight k-pop x-reader fanfiction inspired by the two gayest songs fall out boy has ever written
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abunchofraccooons · 2 years
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Judging Quotev’s FNaF-x-readers
Im doing this bc I can and its fun
ALSO
If you wrote any of these, disagree with this or do like any of these, this was a thing i made for fun. It has my opinion about the books, they shouldnt determine yours. This is just what i think, i dont mean it to be rude
Celestial Bodies (Sundrop x Reader x Moondrop) - Solid 7/10
Good chaotic energy, y/n got yeeted off a balcony though and there’s a Bonnie side-plot thats basically ruining any romance in my eyes so less points
My Babysitter’s a bitch (Michael Afton x Reader) - So far, 8/10 
I was worried about this one containing illegal shit because of the name, but it’s actually legal. It’s a little off with the lore, which pisses me off, but it did say that the lore is irrelevant. Points removed for the name worrying me
Beat of your own drum (FNaF:SB x Reader) - 6.5/10
Its good, a good bit of lore and nice tad bit of humor. It’s vague though, you get to choose your animatronic animal and fur color, which could make it difficult to like, Comprehend but it has a fun vibe. The author’s humor shone through into the writing alot, (ei. “Sundrops ass glue” ) but I have no problem with that. Points removed for short chapters and vagueness
The Only Heartbreaker (FNaF:Sb x Reader) - 9/10
Its really well written, a little stereotypical for an x-reader but what else can I expect from an x-reader? It’s good, well put together, although the reader is scared of the animatronics? I mean, it adds flavor, but it makes me feel for y/n. Bro stuck with a dad that owns a place with animatronics you fear. Points removed only because it’s not the best I’ve read, therefore not a 10/10
Below Minimum (Yandere!Humanoid!FNaF:SB x reader) - 7/10
I like the writing, the characters, the designs, the realistic aspect of it all, but yanderes? Yanderes have never been my thing, and thankfully, this one hasn’t  had any intense “your mine forever” moments. The only reason it’s a 7/10 is the yandere aspect, but it’s really good writing and has a decent plot
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kingkonoha · 4 months
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𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒!
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♡ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: JJK men & their nasty, perverted habits . . . ft. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, & choso.
♡ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: MINORS DNI — fem! reader, reader wears a dress, drinking, smut, grinding, whining, riding, masturbation, panty stealing, touching, creampie, penetration, unprotected, etc.
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𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐘! - NANAMI
Kento Nanami is a gentleman.
He always opens doors for you, never shows up late for dates, and is truly an old-fashioned romantic.
However, he just can’t keep his hands to himself.
The two of you are attending an important gathering related to his corporate job. There’s expensive drinks, classical music, and soft chatter.
You and Nanami make your way around, engaging in small talk while sipping on champagne, and Nanami’s large hand is pressed against your back.
You’re having a conversation with the wife of his boss, and Nanami’s hand starts to go lower and lower, and he grabs your ass rather quickly. You keep your composure, but Nanami’s breath hitches a bit as he clears his throat.
Feeling your ass, even just for a second, was starting to make him lose control.
“Sorry, if you’ll excuse us for a moment,” Nanami suddenly says before dragging you away.
He takes you into one of the bathrooms and shoves you up against the sink.
“Kento,” you whine. “We’re at a gathering.”
“I know,” he whispers into your ear. “I just can’t keep my hands off of you.”
Nanami starts to grind his hard, clothed dick against your ass, moaning softly.
You simply looked too phenomenal in that dress. As his hard cock strains painfully against the fabric of his pants, the only form of relief came when your ass rubbed against it.
“We need to leave,” he grips your hips, pressing himself against you even more as you gripped the edges of the bathroom counter. “If I don’t take you home now, I’ll cum right in my pants.”
𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐑! - GOJO
Satoru Gojo was ready to stuff you with his seed as soon as you both made it home after your wedding.
He had often dreamed about having children with you, but in particular, he wanted to fill you up until he couldn’t physically cum anymore.
Gojo thrusted in and out of you at a quick pace. His hand was pressed underneath your knee as he held your leg back, as close to your chest as he could. You could feel him inside of you even more that way. The thick veins running along his cock rubbed your walls deliciously, and the way your body jerked from his thrusts were starting to make you dizzy.
And he couldn’t get enough. By now, he had finished inside of you already, but he had to do it a second time. Perhaps, a third time as well.
His balls tightened as another orgasm started to overwhelm him, and he groaned.
“I’m gonna cum again, baby,” he warned. “I’m gonna cum deep inside of you. You’re gonna take it all for me, right?”
You nodded eagerly.
“I gotta fill you up — I have to.” As another load of his cum shot out of his aching dick and inside of you, he pressed a hand down against your stomach.
“You feel it?” He continued to thrust and moan. He needed to stuff you as much as he could. “You feel my cum, don’t you?”
“There’s so much of it,” you said with a soft moan.
He was still cumming and cumming, and it didn’t seem like he would ever stop. And, god, he hoped he wouldn’t somehow.
𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇! - GETO
Suguru Geto was a man who always knew what to say. His words were always powerful and wise.
They were also downright filthy, too.
No matter where you both were — at dinner in a nice restaurant, in the movie theater, at the airport — Geto couldn’t help but press his lips against your ear, and whisper something he knew would get your panties wet.
Today in particular, you were both at the grocery store, waiting in line patiently with a cart full of food.
Suddenly, Geto pressed himself against your backside. To nearby shoppers, he simply seemed like an affectionate partner, but you knew what was coming.
Geto leaned down a bit, his warm breath patting against your ear.
“Let’s head home after this. I really wanna eat your pussy before dinner. Let’s see how much of your cum I can swallow.”
“Suguru,” you whispered softly. “We’re in public.”
“No one can hear me, sweet girl. I bet I could reach my hand into your pants and rub your clit, and no one would notice. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“I-”
“Shhh,” he smiled a bit, although you couldn’t see it. “Don’t worry. I’ll wait until we get home, but once we do, we’re gonna fuck and fuck all night long.”
He gave your ear a slow, little lick, and stepped away from you, grinning as he started to put the groceries on the conveyor belt.
𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐘! - CHOSO
“Please,” a soft, desperate whine fell from Choso’s lips. “Make me cum again, please.”
The gorgeous guy started to squirm around beneath you, attempting to raise his hips, chasing the feeling of your tight cunt around him.
“Ride me again,” Choso gripped your hips. “Please ride me again.”
He couldn’t wait any longer. Slowly, he started to glide you up and down along his cock, moaning softly.
“You’re so impatient,” you teased. Despite your words, you helped him out by pressing your hands against his chest, and riding him once again.
“Oh my god,” Choso whispered. “Feels so good. Don’t stop, okay? I need to cum again.”
Your pussy milked his cock until he could no longer form any coherent sentences.
“Baby, please . . . shit, baby. I can’t hold it, I can’t- please, oh fuck.”
Moan after moan fell from between his pretty lips, and without warning — he couldn’t speak well enough to say anything — Choso shot another load of cum right inside of you.
You both paused to catch your breath, but not for long, as Choso started to squirm around once again.
“Another,” he whined softly. “Don’t stop, please. Do it again . . . I wanna cum again.”
𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑! - TOJI
When Toji Fushiguro asked to come to your house, you thought nothing of it.
It wasn’t unusual for him to come over, but little did you know, he had a habit of snooping around.
He liked to see what kind of things you had in your home, and eventually, he knew by heart what brand of toothpaste you preferred and whether you kept certain condiments in the fridge or in the cabinet.
But, his favorite place to snoop was in your bedroom.
Often, he’d say, “I’m gonna go piss,” while getting up from the couch and making his way down the hall. But he never went into the bathroom.
He’d go into your bedroom instead and open your drawer, growing hard at the sight of your undergarments.
He’d typically just steal one pair of panties and shove them into his pocket.
But it wasn’t good enough.
After all, your underwear smelled like detergent. It didn’t smell like you — or, more specifically, your sweet pussy.
That was when he snuck into your laundry room and went into your dirty clothes hamper, digging until he found the perfect pair of used panties.
He shoved them into his pocket, and returned to the living room.
Later on, when he got home, he put those panties right into his mouth, jerking off as he daydreamed about eating your pussy. It was magical, especially now that he knew how it would taste.
Then, he laced those panties around his hard cock, fucking his fist as he shot load after load into the soft material, moaning your name as he did so.
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🏷: @sad-darksoul
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gojorgeous · 2 months
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"creature of myth."
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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)
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You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 
You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all. 
You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 
Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married. 
Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 
You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 
The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 
The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying. 
When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 
Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 
You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 
The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 
Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 
“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 
You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 
You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 
Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”
You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 
“Yes, my lady?” 
You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?
You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 
There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”
Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 
You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 
You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 
You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 
You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 
You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 
You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly. 
You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 
You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 
You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 
You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and- 
“Do you like them?” 
You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 
He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 
Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 
He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained? 
“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 
Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 
There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 
“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 
You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling. 
“Of course… Satoru.” 
He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 
“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 
“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 
There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever… 
“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 
You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?
“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 
He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.” 
You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?
Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 
“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.
Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 
His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 
“Not tonight.” 
His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 
His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 
“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 
You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 
~  
You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed? 
That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 
When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 
“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 
You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”
A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 
“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 
You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 
You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 
That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 
There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.
~
If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 
Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 
The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 
You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 
He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 
“It was… good.”
You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 
You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 
That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 
A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 
Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 
You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 
You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.
It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 
“You’re not… eating?”
That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 
Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 
You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 
The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 
By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 
“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 
“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 
You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 
He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 
You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”
His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 
You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 
He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 
When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 
He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 
You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 
His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 
“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 
~
You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 
Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 
As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.
~
The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 
The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.
~
You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 
You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.
Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 
Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 
You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 
It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 
You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 
“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 
You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 
“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.
A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 
“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 
Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 
“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”
You skip ahead again.
“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”
Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 
“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 
No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 
“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 
You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 
“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 
No, no, no. 
“(See next page for only existing portrait)”
Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 
You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 
Knock! Knock! Knock!
You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 
You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 
“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 
You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 
Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 
“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 
His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.” 
No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 
“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 
“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…” 
You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”
You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?
“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 
You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 
“About the estate?” he asks. 
You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”
His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 
You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”
“Anything interesting?” he presses.
This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 
He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”
You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.
“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.” 
You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.
His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.
“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 
“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 
You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 
He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…” 
You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.
He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 
Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 
“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 
He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real. 
“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 
“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 
“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 
You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.
He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.” 
Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 
“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.
“Mhm?” 
You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 
He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 
He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 
“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 
“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 
The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.
His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 
You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 
He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 
Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 
You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 
You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 
You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 
“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 
“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 
He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 
His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 
You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 
“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 
His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 
“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 
thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 
Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 
“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 
Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 
“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 
His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 
You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 
His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 
You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 
His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 
“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 
You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 
He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?” 
Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer. 
Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 
Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”
You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 
There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 
By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 
His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 
You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 
Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 
“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 
Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 
When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?
“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 
Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 
You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 
“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 
“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 
Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer. 
There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 
Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 
“S-Satoru–”
“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 
You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 
You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…
He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”
It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 
“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 
Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.
“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 
“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 
He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 
“Yes,” you whisper. 
His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 
He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 
“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…” 
He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 
Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 
His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 
When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 
His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 
He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”
You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 
He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 
“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.
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gojonanami · 3 months
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❝ 𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐘! ❞
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❝ COME ON, FUCK ME, EMO BOY!! ❞
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✧ pairing: emo boy! choso kamo x f!reader ✧ summary: saw this boy at the mall last week. got the kind of look to make me freak. wanna fuck in the back of the hot topic? ✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, emo boy! choso, sex toys (vibrators, clit sucker), multiple orgasms, semi-exhibitionism, public sex (sex in the back of hot topic, sex in a changing room), fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), big dick choso (but honey, that dick was 11 inches), also mahito + yuji make appearances, art by @/SS_utr3n. ✧ wc: 5.3K
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It had been a while since you had stepped into a Hot Topic (a while meaning three days or three years, take your pick). But this had been the third time this week you had been to this specific Hot Topic, and now you were sure the manager of the place had your badly taken picture and description scrawled in some notebook as a potential shoplifter. 
But it wasn’t the merchandise you were looking to pick up. 
It was him. 
You saw him when you were browsing the clearance rack, knelt down, evaluating whether you needed another blind box item that will inevitably not contain the character you were looking for (but on the plus side, it was on sale?), when you heard a deep voice speak. 
“Excuse me,” you glance up as you spot him — and you swear your breath gets stuck somewhere between your windpipe and your lungs, because you don’t breathe while this man kneels down next to you to place more items on clearance. Spiky black locks tied up messily on either side, fringe bangs falling in front of his face as he bent down, a tattoo across the bridge of his nose and was that — dark purple eyeshadow around his eyes — and his eyes — god, his eyes were gorgeous, a deep dark brown — and you swore, was that a hint of purple in his irises? 
He was everything that your teen self had wanted — the same guys whose profiles you had looked at growing up and thought were so hot. You caught a glance at the My Chemical Romance t-shirt as he stood, in black jeans, as he catches you staring, “Can I help you find something?” His tone was casual, but he was curious — probably curious why you were staring at him with wide-eyed saucers. 
“No, no, sorry, I—” no, don’t tell the hot Hot topic worker that he is hot — first of all its confusing, second of all— “I just wanted to say, I like your t-shirt,” 
Fuck. out of all the things to say — I like your style, I like your fit, I like your hair — you had to pick the most generic ass comment. 
He only nods, but you catch the barest upward twitch of the corner of his lip, “thanks,” 
And that’s all it took — you now needed to see him smile. 
Over the next few days innocently shopping at Hot Topic, you find out his name is Choso from one of the other workers, Mahito, calling his name. His hair is usually in those buns, but one of the days his hair was down, and you heard him complain that his hair ties had snapped. 
And his hair looked so good down, his long inky locks fell past his shoulders, but this was your chance to talk to him — “i have some extra hair ties, if you want them,” you offer him a few hair ties, “I overheard you talking with the other worker, I hope you don’t mind,” 
And he shakes his head, his lips quirked in that almost smile that makes your heart squeeze. 
Fuck. 
“Not at all, thank you,’ and his fingers brush yours as he takes the hair ties, and you turn to leave, but his voice stops you, “what was your name? I didn’t catch it last time,” 
You tell him, smiling, “Your name is Choso, right? I saw it on your nametag,” and he’s biting his lip, tilting his head in question, as you flush, cheeks burning, “I’ve noticed you a couple times when I’ve come in— not in a weird way, I just—” 
“I’ve noticed you too,” and finally he’s smiling — and you know he’s got you, you know you’re fucked. 
And you do get fucked — in the back of Hot Topic during his break. 
It had been a few weeks of you two talking and flirting, until finally, during his break he’s got you snuck into the back to show you the merchandise they haven’t put out yet. And you scoff when you come across a bullet vibrator, “you guys sell these?” 
He shrugs, “They started to in the last few years, not a lot. They don’t want the parents to become too outraged, but just enough,” And you snort, turning the bullet over in your fingers curiously, “have you never used one before?” 
And your cheeks burn, as you bite your lip, “No I never have,” and the next question stumbles out as a joke, “why? Wanna help me learn?” And you want to bite your tongue, but you’re too busy with the foot in your mouth to do so, and before you can apologize he speaks. 
“I would,” 
And your eyes snap to his, and you realize how close he’s standing, his eyes not filled with humor but something else — lust? — and his lips curled in a small smile. 
Fuck. 
“You’re gonna have to be a little quieter, love,” he’s murmuring in your ear, pressing kisses to your neck, as you’re pressed between his firm chest and the metal storage rack, fingers laced as you held on, the vibration between your thighs the only thing ringing in your ears. 
But how can you be quiet? 
The bullet vibrator is pressed right against your clit, and his thick fingers are parting your folds, so close to sinking into you, his deep voice whispering in your ear, hot breath against your neck. 
And the coil in your stomach is only growing tighter and tighter, and your squeals only grow more and more insistent. His fingers sunk into your mouth, “suck,” he ordered, and your cunt twitches at the demand, as you do, sucking and licking messily on his fingers, “good girl,” 
And he clicks the button of the vibrator again, increasing the vibration, making your eyes widen, a gasp around his fingers, “so responsive,” he groans, as your legs grow weak, and he’s stepping forward to steady you, but it also settles his dick between your ass. 
He’s huge. 
The bulge presses into you, drawing a hiss from his lips as you lean back against it, “Trying to tease me, sweetheart?” And he’s pulling his fingers from his mouth, a string of spit connecting from his fingers to your lips, “don’t forget who’s teaching you,” and he sinks his spit soaked fingers into your needy cunt, making your back arch into his body, “so tight, despite the vibrator,” he hums.
“Choso, please—” and he starts to fuck his fingers in and out, the squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears mixing with the buzz of the vibrator — you’re already so close, “I'm—” 
“Cum for me,” he’s grunting, as his fingers reach even deeper inside you, dragging against your walls as he curls them, finding that one spot that has you seeing stars. And your moan as you cum is stifled against your own palm, as he only maxes out the vibration and fucks you through your orgasm, “one more for me, pretty, you can do it,” 
“No, no, Choso, please too much, can’t—” and he only presses sweet kisses to your neck, and how are you already close — you just had orgasmed, but the coil in your stomach is growing tighter by the second, and you’re nearly crying when you cum again, your slick dripping down his fingers and the vibrator as he eases it from you, and then splatters onto the dirty tile floor of the backroom of Hot Topic.
“Good girl,” he murmurs as he’s tilting your head back and around for a kiss. And you catch a glimpse of the glint of your release on his black painted nails as he presses the pads into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his digits and sucking them clean, “that’s it, clean up your mess f’me,” and his other hand is wiping the tears from your eyes, “so pretty when you cry — can’t wait to make you do it again.”
Your cunt twitches at the thought, your cum still dripping down your thighs, “Again?” and he’s pressing another sinful kiss to your lips, “You didn’t think this would be our only lesson, did you?” 
And it wasn’t — the next lesson was spent in the fitting rooms, during a particular dead early afternoon in the store — and he had you spread on the fitting room bench, your black jeans pulled down to your ankles, as his head found its way between your thighs. You could barely hold back your whimpers as he pressed all too hot kisses to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, burning already with his warm breath. It was too much. 
He was too much. 
“How’s that feel?” dark eyes flicking up to meet yours, half lidded with lust, as he watches your panting face, your head against the wall of the fitting room, “use your words, love,” 
“Too good, Cho-so,” the last syllable of his names escapes your lips in a gasp, as your cunt twitches as his lithe fingers tease you through the soaked material of your panties, “please, please, need you,” 
“What do you need?” and his fingers pull away, as his lips press a kiss to your puffy clit, pulling a whine from you, “what do you want me to do?” 
“Please, just—” and he’s tugging your panties aside, cool air rushing over your all too hot pussy, “please just touch me — with your fingers or mouth—” 
And his tongue drags over your messy cunt, and god, it feels too good — but a twinge makes you pause, and when you feel it draw a circle around your clit, you realize what it is — he has a tongue piercing. Your fingers thread their way in his black locks, resisting the urge to grab at his hair buns. 
He grunts, vibrations against your wet cunt, as you pull him impossibly closer to where you needed him most, his nose bumping against your clit, “you smell so good — how’s that possible?” and your eyes squeeze shut as his hands press your thighs further apart. 
That’s when you both hear the click of the entrance, and the door swinging shut — shit, the door — he forgot to lock it. Forgot when you had pulled him into a kiss right when he was ready to take a lunch break, all other thoughts had flown out of his brain once he let those doors swing shut and your lips had met his — well, left his brain and flooded southward. He also didn’t think a customer would be persistent enough to try the door and wander in when the doors were shut and the closed sign was hung up. 
“Choso, should we—” and the footsteps draw closer — and fuck — did you get wetter? And tighter — his moan is muffled against your walls, “Choso, stop, we—” 
“You don’t mean that,” he whispers, dark, half lidded eyes look up at you, your essence and his spit soaking his lips and dripping down his chin. And the footsteps are receding, the sounds of the shuffling and clinking of clothes hangers on racks in the distance, but all you can hear are the sounds of the wet, needy squelch of your cunt, “you aren’t being honest — but you are down here,” and his lips find your clit, sucking lightly, making your head jerk back, “want them to know how good I make you feel,” his lips leave your clit with a small pop, before murmuring against the soft skin of your thigh, “be quiet for me, baby,” and his tongue slips back into your cunt. 
He’s nearly slurping your juices up, his tongue tasting every inch of you, deliciously dragging against your twitching walls with his piercing, as your toes curl and your mouth parts in a muffled moan, one hand clamped over your mouth, and the other digging into his scalp. How could the person not hear you? How couldn’t they hear the wet squelch of your cunt as Choso fucked it with his tongue? How couldn’t they hear your badly swallowed moans and the sounds of your heart pounding out of your chest — and if they did, they certainly didn’t care enough to stop browsing through the fucking store. 
And you’re close, so fucking close, and you don’t hear the footsteps drawing close to the fitting rooms because your ears only can hear the wet suck of his mouth against your clit or the press of his tongue in and out of your folds, your thighs twitching under his grasp, fingers pressed into your flesh, “Choso, I’m so—” 
“Cum f’me, need to feel you cum around my tongue,” he sucks on your clit hard, teeth grazing the sensitive spot, and you cum, hard, your hand forsaking your lips to find purchase on his head, squirting all over his face as you did, soaking him along with the bench of the fitting room. And you can’t help the whimpers and moans that left your lips, as he lapped up your release without a care. 
And you slump against the wall of the fitting room, body still buzzing from your orgasm, as he finally pulls his tongue out, glancing up at you. Your chest heaves as you watch him lick your cum from his lips and chin, before wiping the rest away, and your eyes drift downward to the erection he was palming. And your fingers unconsciously reach for it, when your hear a door slam shut making your both jump. 
You cover your mouth — the customer, and Choso’s eyes meets yours, as the two of you break out in a laugh, “Fucking lock the door next time,” you sigh, covering your burning face with your hands, as Choso chuckles, lips curled in a smile.
“So there’s going to be a next time?” he tilts his head, and you flush. 
How could he go from eating you out like a desperate man without water to this innocent puppy? “Not if you don’t lock the door,” 
“It’s their fault for coming in when the doors were closed and there was a sign that said closed in big letters on the door,” and you shake your head, as he draws closer, “now, I have twenty minutes of lunch left — so where were we?” 
And you push him towards the changing room door, “Go lock the door first,” and he relents, chuckling. 
“Just for that, I’m going to look for the clit sucker I couldn’t find before.” 
~~~~
The two of you had fallen into a pattern. 
And you had become a regular at Hot Topic. You hung around him as he stocked the shelves, did inventory, price re-labeling, and even as he spoke to customers. You watched other customers speak to Choso, even flirt with him, but he never cracked a smile. Two girls were very persistent, but they deflated as he walked away after answering their questions, brushing past you, his hand brushing against your ass discreetly. Heat rushes to your cheeks, your head snapping to him as his lips curl when your eyes catch his gaze. But even so…
You still were just as clueless of where you stood with him as you were when this started. 
“You two have been pretty hot and heavy lately, huh?” you nearly jump out of your skin, as Mahito smiles knowingly at you, leaning against the counter with a shiteating grin. 
“What are you—” 
“Please, like we don’t know what goes on in the back during breaks?” he raises an eyebrow, as you bite your lip, “plus, never have I seen that gloomy guy smile, much less as much he does with you,” 
“Really?” your eyes find him again, as he crouches and lines up blind boxes on one of the shelves — but you can’t help the nagging question circling in the back of your mind — why hasn’t he asked you out yet? The two of you have hooked up, in and out of the store, but he still hadn’t asked you on a date. Even in the last few weeks, the two of you hadn’t even spent any real time together, except for your visits to the store -- he hasn't even taken you into the back. For all you know, you’re one of many people he’s bedding. Even if he doesn’t seem the type. 
“What? Trouble in paradise?” Mahito pulls you from your thoughts, head tilted and all too eager, “what’s wrong?” 
“No, it’s—“ he cuts you off with a look, and you relent with a slight pout, “he just hasn’t asked me out yet, I’m just wondering what he’s thinking—“ 
“Well, I definitely don’t think he’s seeing anyone else,” he hums, “but he does tend to go straight home a lot when you’re not around. Maybe something is going on at home?” And then he’s pushing you towards him, “no time like the present to find out,” 
“Mahito—“ 
“Choso! How about you and your favorite regular go for a quick walk and get us some drinks from the food court?” He grins, offering some money,  “be a doll, won’t you?” 
Choso sighs, “Fine,” and he brushes past you, taking the cash, before glancing back at you, “you coming?” 
You glance between the two of them, before following him out of the store. You both walk in relative silence, slipping past customers, as you reach the food court. Choso orders, paying with the cash Mahito gave, as he passes you one of the drinks, “Choso, can I ask you something?” 
His eyes slide to you, “Of course,” and god, his eyes stop your thoughts in their tracks — he’s so unfairly gorgeous, funny, sweet — you didn’t want to screw this up. You open your mouth to speak when you hear a voice. 
“Big bro, that you?” A rush of pink hair and energy is wrapped around Choso all of a sudden, “I didn’t think you got off until later,” it’s a teen boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, his arm wrapped around Choso, and a varsity jacket on — this was Choso’s brother?
Choso cracked his rare smile, “I don’t get off until later, Yuji, but I came to grab a drink for Mahito,” and Yuji’s gaze slides to you. 
“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there,” he smiles a thousand watt smile, “I’m Yuji Itadori, Choso’s brother,” and he’s glancing between you and his brother, before his mouth falls into an ‘o,’ “are you his girlfriend?” 
“Yuji—“ Choso starts, a hint of a blush across his cheeks, as you stifle a laugh, “I thought you said you were going to study at home with Fushiguro.” 
“I wanted to see you when your shift got off — I thought we could have dinner together,” Yuji pouts, and Choso cracks in an instant, his lips curling. 
This boy had his brother wrapped around his finger. 
“Ok, but don’t goof off. Make sure to study,” and Yuji nods. 
“Nice to meet you,” and he leans in to whisper, “treat my brother good, ok?” And you flush, before nodding, as Choso raises an eyebrow, out of earshot. 
“I will,” 
“Cho, tell Mahito to fuck off for me,” and he’s off again, gone as fast as he came.
“Sorry about that,” Choso sighs, still a smile on his lips as he watches his brother in the distance, claiming one of the food court tables for himself and his friend, as he sits down next to a black haired boy, assumedly Fushiguro, “didn’t know Yuji would be here,” 
“I didn’t know you had a brother,” and he bites his lip. 
“It’s relatively new — we’re half brothers, but he just came back into my life. He doesn’t really have any other biological family. His grandfather just passed, and he’s staying with a teacher whose decided to foster him,” the two of you begin to walk back to the store, his gaze fixed downwards at the tacky mall carpeting, “he’s been staying with me for the last few weeks, while his foster father went on a vacation to Malaysia,” 
And now the pieces were clicking into place, “And that’s why you’ve been going home a lot lately,” and his dark eyes find yours with a tilt of his head, “I mean, you just haven’t had a lot of time lately,” you can’t meet his gaze, “it must be a lot to have a teenager staying with you.” 
“Yeah, he eats everything in the house, and he’s staying in my living room, which leaves little in the way of privacy,” and you can still feel the prickle of his gaze on you, “but I could use a break,” and you finally look and see a soft expression on his face, the same insecurity you had reflected in his gaze. 
No time like the present, right?
“Well, should we maybe go on a date?” and his cheeks flush a pretty red, all the way to the tips of his ears, “we’ve done plenty of other things that a couple would do, like—” 
And he’s shaking his head, “I know, I know!” he’s the one who can’t meet your eyes now, chewing his lip, “I’d like that — I get off my shift tonight at eight, I told Yuji we’d hang out, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind postponing—” 
“We can always do it tomorrow, I don’t want to keep you from your brother,” and his lips curl into a smile, “he’s a good kid,” 
“He is,” and his fingers find yours again, “I can tell Mahito that I’ll lock up tonight, and maybe after I do, we could—” 
“Have another lesson?” 
And eight o’clock rolls around far too slow, but Choso definitely isn’t moving slow when it’s only the two of you. 
He’s pulling you into the back again, the door swinging shut behind the two of you, his fingers tight around your wrists as he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, forcing your lips to part with a gasp, his tongue flicking against yours. The smooth surface of his piercing grazes against your tongue. 
And his fingers find the back of your neck, deepening the kiss impossibly, as his other hand slips down the curves of your body, pulling you against him, his clothed cock brushing against your aching cunt. 
Fuck. You had almost forgotten how big he was. 
And when you hear the zipper of his black jeans, you nearly melt against him, “Choso, please—” 
“I have to get you ready first, love,” his fingers find their way to the front of your jeans and undo the button, tugging the fabric down to your ankles. Cool air raises goosebumps across your skin, the pads of his fingers press against the wet patch of your panties, and he’s groaning, “but maybe I don’t,” 
“Fuck, so wet for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, as he’s walking you backwards, into one of the racks, his fingers press into the soft flesh of your thighs. And two fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, joining your jeans, pooling around your ankles, “nearly ready now, but I still have to loosen you up,” his fingers tease your outer lips, dripping with your release. 
One of his finger’s slips in with practiced ease, making your hips jolt against his hand, your fingers curling around the metal bars of the rack in front of you. His finger was so much thicker and longer than yours, his digit toyed with your walls, teasing and stretching until he drew a soft groan from your lips. He was the only one who could make you this desperate, his lips pressed against your neck, the heat from his body has your mind reeling with pleasure. 
“Mmm, Choso, more—" and he’s adding another finger inside your still all too tight entrance, making you whimper, as the intrusion is all too much after a few weeks of not having him inside you. 
“So greedy,” he murmurs, the wet squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears, “you’re practically sucking me in, but it’s still not enough for you, is it?” his tongue drags against the outer shell of your ear, his piercing against your skin, before his mouth envelops your earlobe and sucks. 
His fingers are fucking you open, your eyes screwed shut as the tips brush against that spot, heat flooding your body. And you don’t hear the shuffling of his other hand through a box, until you hear the sound of sucking, “Choso—“ and he’s pressing the sucker against your clit, your mouth falling open as pleasure rips up your spine, the sucking sensation with the lewd noises of your pussy being finger fucked is too much. 
You cum all over his hand, your hand clamping over your mouth so no one hears your moans — and your legs quake as you come down from your high, as he eases his fingers from you, “so pretty,” he murmurs, and you can feel his dark, lidded eyes on your drenched cunt, watching your sticky release cling to his fingers, purple painted nails glinting in the low light. 
And he’s leaning forward, kissing down your back, as he turns you around gently, so your back is pressed against the rack. You kick off your underwear and pants. You’re still panting, chest rising and falling as his fingers press to your chin, lifting it so you meet his gaze, as he sucks his fingers clean of your cum. Heat pools again, as his fingers undo the leather belt and he’s tugging his jeans and black boxers down to his knees, his erection springs out, slapping against his stomach. 
Your mouth runs dry. 
Fuck, he’s even bigger than you thought. 
Ten inches? No, maybe eleven. How was that even possible? That shit would break you — but fuck — your cunt twitches — you kind of want it to break you. 
“Like what you see, Princess?” you lick your lips in response, and in a trance, your fingers are reaching for him, curling around the base before you slowly start to pump him. You’re rewarded with a moan, a noise that goes straight to your cunt, as your fingers move faster, trying to find the right rhythm. Pre-cum leaks from the top, as you tease his tip, before stroking back up the length of it. 
And he’s a beautiful mess, his pale features flushed a gorgeous red, as he presses his hand against his mouth so his moans wouldn’t resonate. And his pre-cum drips all over your fingers, slipping down your wrist even, as you lean forward to lick it off your own skin, while you meet his gaze. 
His head lolls back, eyes screwed shut now, and your fingers drift to his sack, stroking and teasing while your lips find the tip, sucking lightly before your tongue drags over the length of his cock. And god, he’s going to blow his load now, if you keep doing that, from the way his hips rock against your touch. 
His fingers weave into your hair, nails digging into your scalp, “Baby, ngh, it’s too good—fuck—” he’s so close, twitching in your mouth as you suck him from tip to base, tracing his slit with the tip of your tongue, “shit, I can’t—” and you suck hard on his cock, massaging his balls, and he’s gone — he’s pumping his cock into your mouth as his cum spurts down your throat, as you swallow it all too greedily. You pull away with a pop, a string of cum and saliva connecting you to his dick still, before you wipe it away. 
He’s leaning against the rack, chest heaving as he watches you with lust blown out eyes, sweat sheen on his face, “Haa, baby, s’good f’me,” and somehow he’s still hard, as you rise to your feet, thighs pressed together, your eyes fixed on his cock, “you don’t have to—” 
And he’s still so sweet — his eyebrows knit together as he’s examining you with concern, but you’re only shaking your head, as you press a sweet kiss to his lips, “I need you, Choso, please,” and he’s nodding, lips meeting yours in a heady kiss that steals your breath, and he’s made you brace yourself against the rack, fingers curled around the cool metal. 
Your folds are exposed to him, slick and dripping, even wetter than before, “You liked sucking me off that much, love?” he murmurs, kissing your neck, before he’s dragging the tip of his cock against your needy cunt, “I’ll go slow,” he assures you, as you nod. 
He’s sinking into you inch by inch — and not even halfway, you already feel like you’re ready to burst, “So big, Choso, I—” and he’s murmuring quiet reassurances, as he’s parting your folds, the pain drawing a gasp from your lips, as he finally bottoms out. 
“S’good, baby, so tight,” he’s moaning, You’re taking deep breaths, pain ebbing with each second that passes. Choso pressing sweet kisses to your neck, his hands slipping under your shirt to tease your perked nipples, mixing pain with pleasure. Tears burn at your tear ducts, as you breathe shaky breaths, and finally pain ebbs away, and pleasure grows in its place.
“S’full, so big,” you pant, growing more needy by the second, he’s reaching places you’d only dreamt of — his leaking tip kissing your cervix, “move, p-please—ah!” 
And he does as you say, pulling ever so slowly out before pushing back in, grunting as he does as your tight cunt adjusts to his size and length — bullying your insides in a way no toy could ever compare to. You swear you can feel every inch, every curve, every vein as he rocks into you. 
“So pretty f’me,” he’s moaning, stifled by his bitten lip, as your walls only seem to pull him back deeper each time he pulls out,  “so perfect, take me so well,” he’s murmuring, as he teases your tits between his thumb and forefinger, “pretty cunt made just for me, isn’t that right, Princess?” 
“Yes, yes, Choso,” and his pace only grows faster, just as his groans grow louder. 
“No one else can fuck you like this, make you feel this good, can’t wait to feel you cummin’ around me,” he’s panting, his fingers tweaking your nipples, squeezing, as he fucks you deeper and deeper, his tip hitting your cervix deliciously again and again, “feels s’good, so wet and warm for me—” his hand comes down on your ass now, making you gasp, your cunt squeezing around him. 
Drool slips from your mouth, as you get closer and closer to cumming — the telltale flutter of your walls, “Choso, I’m coming, I can’t—” 
“Cum for me, let me fill you up,” and his fingers reach around to press a vibrator to your clit, and you’re cumming, falling apart on his cock, as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. The squelch of your cunt and the way you squeeze him has him falling apart, spurting and painting your walls. 
The two of you slump forward, your legs nearly buckling, as you cling to the rack, before he’s easing both of you back onto a bench in the stock room. Your quiet pants fill the silence of the room, as he eases himself out, groaning as you both watch your mixed releases leak out of your cunt. 
“I don’t think I can walk after that,” and he chuckles in your ear, pressing a kiss to your neck. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll carry you,” and you laugh, his favorite noise in the world, as you slowly turn, making him groan as your soaked pussy grinds against his dick. 
“So then you can lift me up when I drop it?” your lips are curled in that same smile that had him hypnotized from the moment he saw it, and he can only reply with a bruising kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth, as you sunk yourself onto his dick again. 
God. He needed to buy you tickets to Warped Tour. 
~~~
The next time you show up to Hot Topic, you weren’t showing up to buy any merchandise. 
“Hey emo boy!” you call out, making Choso turn with a smile on his lips — the one especially reserved for you. 
“Hi baby,” he murmurs, kissing you softly, his arm around your waist, “I’m almost done. I just have to punch out.” 
You lean in, words whispered against his ear, “And then you’re gonna come fuck me?” 
You were picking up your boyfriend. 
He smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist, before kissing you again, “You know I will.” 
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note: i couldn't find who made this incredible art that i used after searching and searching, so if anyone knows, please let me know so i can credit them above in the description. this fic has been a long time coming since that silly blurb i wrote after watching one too many thirst edits of choso. edit: i found the artist: its @/SS_utr3n on twt!!!
tag list: @uroldall, @jlovesfrogs, @existential54321, @staryukis, @samistars, @chosoilysm, @astroholic, @emii4evr, @rose1238, @butterflieskeepcominback, @divinely-yourz, @fishii28, @seresukuin, @misalsmistake, @xkaidaxxxx, @cappric, @famebydefinition, @theatergeek, @sousblogga, @averagelonelypotato, @timesnewreader, @chrvstxl, @darylthekidd, @merelydaydreaming, @notafan77, @naughtygobbo, @smiley-babe, @butterflieskeepcominback, @entirelytoooobsessed, @acenanxious
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screampied · 3 months
Text
❛ TOO SWEET! ❜
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geto, toji, gojo, nanami, choso. jjk men who can’t get enough of your sweet taste ‘& becomes needy for your touch.
total wc. 3.0k
warnings. fem!reader, aphrodisiacs, whiney men, unprotected sex, mating press, cowgirl, doggystyle, nipple play, eating out through your panties, dry humping, praise
an. request thank yew aiii, using this req as an excuse to make the jjk men whiney.
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CHOSO ☆ KAMO
“baby w-wait,” he swallows, and choso’s panting heavily. heaving practically…
he just couldn’t keep his hands off you — ever since he told you in that soft, shaky red-handed voice that he ‘accidentally’ swallowed and eaten your freshly new bought sugary-coated sweets. “i feel so…” he murmurs, spinning you around before planting a kiss on your neck, then another, then another. “i need you. y-you smell sweeter than usual.”
“oh..is it that bad?” you stare up at him, a single eyebrow of yours raises, and he whimpers. you’re teasing him. the pout that curls down his lip is just adorable.
choso doesn’t give you a answer. he’s so starved of your wanted touch, all he does is drag a few inelegant awkward steps towards you, bringing you into a deep kiss.
choso cups your face with his big hands, his tongue swipes against yours and he backs you up against the glass cold refrigerator door.
he lets off a delicious moan inside your mouth and you gasp, feeling him spread your legs apart with his knee and your own whimper slips out as he’s kissing you. his body heat against yours was so warm, and every few seconds he broke away to repeat your name underneath his breath his shaky needy whispers. oh… maybe..
it really was that bad…
“are you sure?” you faltered with a shy smile, massaging the nape of your neck with your fingers. choso sat on the bed, his face remained flustered and plastered which nothing but whole heartedly lust and thirst. “this’ll help you um..stop feeling all….you know.”
“baby, yes—please,” he whines, his eyes plead. choso’s entire body felt so hot-tempered, warm.
it was cute seeing him grow frustrated, yet he was still as whiney as always, pink lips of his pursing and pouting as you teasingly and slowly made your way to sit on his face. “t-thank you, thank y—mph..”
your panties were still on but choso could care less, as you plopped down gently on his face — he couldn’t take it.
one single stripe lick between the crevices of your underwear was enough to make you moan out his name, hovering over him while giving him that same timid gaze. “c’mon. i need this, need you,” he’d speak, his own breath was racing against itself, jittery.
he gives your thighs a quick pry with his right hand, spreading your legs and you moan as he’s literally eating you out through your laced panties.
“ride my nose, baby. pleasepleaseplease. wanna savor my pretty girl’s—” and he pauses to breathe, almost forgetting to before moaning out. “..pussy.”
“c-choso..” you panted, starting to ride against his nose. he looked so pretty and submissive underneath you, a smile never leaving his lips as you were continuously starting to cover the lower half of his chin with your sweet slick. “fuck, fuck.”
his tongue was sloppy, never ending with the way it slurps your folds up. teasing your puffy clit with numerous sucks, his head’s swiftly moving and jerking as your hips moved and moved against him. choso reaches down to rub against the brick hard bulge building up in his shorts and he whines.
“c-can i touch myself?” he whimpers, and your heart swoons at him even asking. “….god, i’m so hot for you, baby. you make me so dirty. your taste… ‘s doin' this to me. just.. wanna please you, all night long baby.”
SUGURU ☆ GETO
“m' serious, princess,” geto mutters, gripping onto your shoulders. he looked like he’d just came back from his hourly workout. he’s staring you dead in the eyes, some strands of long black hair sticking to his forehead, and it appears as if he’s nearly out of breath. “i…ate your uh candy. but it’s not like you labeled it or anyt-”
geto freezes for a moment. he grows dramatically stiff, before staring down at his pants then at you. “shit.”
“…sugu, are you hard?” you giggled.
and oh, he grows so embarrassed. geto’s facial expression turns into a cute scowl, his ears grows hot the more he stares at you—and indeed he is.
geto’s boner was sort of hard to ignore. him wearing grey sweats didn’t make things easier either.
“can..can you help me or not? y’don’t know how painful this…is,” he huffs out and seconds later after you comply with a sweet little ‘okay’ he’s got you sprawled out all pretty on the bed. “more hornier than u-usual..” he swallows, leaning in to plant kisses straight down your chest to your stomach before he slides your panties off.
you stared at geto, and he licks his lips, panting. his chest heaved back and forth and he’s sweating a bit, he’s so turned on he feels so hot once he’s easing his way inside your pussy with his dick.
“m-mhm,” he bites his lip, keeping one hand resting on your tummy. you never heard him this whiney before and it was so cute. he doesn’t wanna rush but he can’t help it but start to create a pace with his hips. you moaned once he leaned into you, whining in his low voice, “kiss me, please. kiss me, princess.”
he was so thick. you felt him everywhere, his thrusts were so sloppy against you. more sloppier than usual but he was so driven.
his mind raced and his heart heated ten times faster than it regularly does.
“come here, baby.” you playfully smiled, moving his long dancing hair strands from his face and he deeply kissed you with tongue. hearing you say ‘baby’ got him more turned on.
the candy, your taste, and just your smooth sweet voice alone was gonna be the death of him.
“okay, okay…” he pants, you wrap your arms around him as his body weight lightly lingers against your chest. he’s so sensitive, warm as he leans in to kiss you for a second time.
it’s more quick and steamy. your tongue collides against his and you taste the sweet tang of the intoxicated candy residing on his tongue. you moaned at his hips smacking against yours at such rhythm. geto lets off a soft whiney purr at the way you comb a hand through his hair.
his lips were connected to yours for what seemed like forever. his warmth radiates against your skin as his body rocks against you.
“so sweet,” he murmurs, breaking away for a brief moment, his cock taps against your most sensitive bits and you whine. geto’s gentle but can’t help but be a bit crazy with thrusts, his strokes that made you dizzy. “i-i need more,” he huffs out, kissing the side of your mouth, then your neck, then your chest.
geto’s still huffing and puffing as he’s inside of you—each stinging slap he creates with his hips, you run into him and he moans, raising your right leg up, the leg that was wrapped around his waist to lick a long stripe up it while keeping direct eye contact. “can’t get enough.. ‘n it’s all your damn fault, princess.”
NANAMI ☆ KENTO
“sweetheart..”
is all your boyfriend says. you’re bent over the counter, and he pauses, you slip off a moan as nanami’s pressed up against you. his voice sounds lower than usual, raspy and somewhat whiney..? he intakes a breath before lifting the fabric of your sundress up. “i don’t want you to..see me like this.”
“kento, baby,” you shyly smile, not even facing him. “i told you yesterday not to eat the candy. the side effects are um…strong.”
with one hand, nanami tugs on his tie back and forth, he’s hot. “i’m aware of that now,” he grunts and you let off a gasp, feeling his hard boner rub against your ass. he grabs onto your waist and starts to make you grind your ass against him and he swears underneath his breath.
“fuck me,” he mutters in frustration. “forgive me, s-sweetheart but i just…i really wanna take you right here over this counter. restrain your cute hands with my tie and..”
“what’s stopping you then?” you teased.
and that was all it took nanami couldn’t hold back anymore, the lust overtook him and it was too strong. your cloying fragrance alone had him so tipsy. you’re perfectly arched over the sleek shiny, granite kitchen counter. nanami’s ruthless with his hits against your core. “k-kento..”
you’d moan out, your own hands pinned against your back with the neatly tie restraining your wrists, not too tight but just enough. you’re just bent over with the most perfect arch.
he’s so warm as he sloppily thrusts against you, again and again. his tip brushes against between your folds and you whimper out from how good he’s hitting you from behind. he’s got an exquisite tempo of roughness but also very gentle.
nanami grunts with the way your ass kisses against him each time. he purposely grows quiet to hear the hard hits, yanking on your pretty sundress. “jus’ like that, baby,” he’d moan out, barely able to contain himself. “throw yourself back…against me, jus’ like that…goddamn, girl.”
you were hunched over, wrists still restrained with his striped tie, a good grip of you as you’re being pounded ruthlessly against the counter. he’s never felt this horny and aroused before, hot and cold describes his heat and he groans at the way you move against him.
his dick reached you in each crevice, each spot with such ease you’re whining. you covered his base with your slick, he gets so hard from the recoil the more he stares down. nanami eyes the way the pretty sundress you wore—the one he bought you for valentine’s day, was all wrinkled and lazily pulled up to your waist. “s-so good, kento. more..”
“good, want you to feel good,” he rasps, caressing your bare ass once more. once his fat tip reaches your g-spot with a single hit you choke out his name and it sounds so pretty. “arch that pretty back just a more for me, pretty.”
you do and he gives you a soft encouraging spank, just to hear you whimper out kentooo. it drives him crazy, you drive him crazy—he’s so obsessed with the way your ass jerks back against him.
one swift smack and you moan, he slides a tongue across his lip, grunting at the way the recoil just bounces against him. he’s so dizzy, holding on to your hips, a firm grip and making you move back and forth before he starts panting.
“a little more, sweet girl,” and you do, moaning once his hefty base smacks against your ass. he starts to get a bit whiney, despite his low pitched voice, he’s completely losing composure. “all the way down, bend for me….y-yeah,” he stutters, and you get shivers, feeling nanami teasingly run two fingers down your spine.
“fuck, you’re gonna milk me, honey. make a…damn mess out of me.” and you do—because not even moments later, nanami ends up spraying thin ropes of of his cum all over your pussy, painting it like a canvas. “got me all messy just for you, p-princess.”
FUSHIGURO ☆ TOJI
toji’s hungry ass genuinely doesn’t care. 
the moment he spots a pocket-sized, untouched velvet box of tasty sweets with cute neat handwritten of a sharply that wrote ‘DO NOT EAT ME!!” he pays no mind.
eating it, savoring the rich taste of caramel and cinnamon. he’d probably eat in front of you just to spite you.
yet, the last thing you’d expect would be to return home to a needy whiny toji. 
“hey…girl,” you hear from behind you. he sounds worn out, as if he’d run a marathon.
he greets you with an awkward hug, which is more so just him feeling on your ass, his boner poking against your leg and he intakes your sweet scent before grunting into your neck.
“i…i ate the fucking candy. and all of a sudden you smell sweeter than..than usual and, shit.” he sighs, feeling your soft lips kiss the side of his mouth, his scar. “look. i just..i need you, bad,” and he sounds embarrassed, not even presenting you eye contact. 
his eyes hide underneath his long uncut strands before he continues, picking you up while gripping down on your thighs. “but..maybe this’ll fuckin’ help..”
and by that…he means putting you in a simple mating press, toji’s stuffing you full of cock, he’s doing more moaning than you which is surprising.
his weight that lodges over your pussy just smacks against you each and everytime. he’s treating you like a rag doll basically. you’re just dumbly being stuffed full of inches, holding onto his beefy arms while he’s thrusting in and out, smack after smack it makes your ears ring.
“mhm yeah baby—girl,” he’d choke out, and you’re squeezing down on him so tight it makes his jaw clench. “so damn…hot, fuck i need more…gotta overflow this pussy s’good it’s drippin’ out.” and you whimper at him clamping down on you.
his thrusts became so nasty and sloppy, barely any rhythm. 
toji looks so pretty when he’s needy. deranged, but pretty. he’s sweating a bit, beads race down the sides of his forehead, toned muscles were tense, including his back muscles. yet he blinks twice again.
slowing his strokes just a bit before groaning. “f-fuck, nasty bitch y’er tryna milk m-me?” and he whines—a gasp wretching from his mouth before that’s when toji realizes. 
he came early.
toji stares at you, panting heavily, bottom lip quivering as he’s still got you in a mean mating press. your legs were just dumbly in the air, twitching and you moaned at feeling his cum trickle down your slit, oozing out of you.
“toji baby, did you just whine?” you teased, heaving yourself. and toji showcases a glare, bringing a swift spank towards your pussy and you moan. 
“say…say that shit again…” he murmurs, all out of breath. he sits up, still stuffed deep inside you, his thick sheeny triceps flexed as he had them pressed against the sides of you.
“say what?”
he’s so embarrassed—a sheepish expression washes over him, tips of his ears were fuming with hotness before he grumbles, pulling out just to avert his eyes towards your messy pussy. “fuckin’….call me…baby again...please.”
“call you baby, yeah?” you teased, and he glares, a cute scowl on his face
“…you heard me, whore.”
GOJO ☆ SATORU
“hey, you’re back,” he utters, hugging you from behind. he smells so good—peppering your neck with a variety of chaste kisses, he sounds a bit shaken up and he’s far more clingy than usual.
the minute you hug turn around to hug him, softly running a finger down his undercut he lets off a moan. “y-your touch. ‘s been so long since-”
“toru i was only gone for three hours,” you mumbled, and he stared at you.
his entire face was flushed, his usual fluffy and well was all in his face. messy, ruffled, and he was sweating just a bit.
“why-” then you pause, moving your eyes towards the night stand to see the empty wrappers of candy scattered everywhere. “you- did you eat those?”
“no,” he immediately says, with a swift head shake, before letting off an ashamed, “yes.. i couldn’t help it. i thought you were just joking about the um…horniness.. but baby, i-i need you on top of me.”
he was so desperate.
you decided to 'help' him, in his way he wanted you to ride him so the lust could wear off, hopefully.
gojo’s so loud, slouched back against the squashy pillows of the sofa.
his head goes back before gripping your waist, whining at the way your hips rollicked against him. “f-fuck me more, touch me more. kiss me..baby please, ‘m so hot, pussy’s making me burn up, fuck..”
“satoru,” you mumbled, bucking your hips against him and it makes you suck your teeth. he was so big, easily stretching you out, molding out your pussy with such grace.
“stop talking.” you moaned, rocking back and forth. his cock, the girth of it stretched inside of you and you bite down on your lip.
gojo’s hair nearly covers his eyes, and he’s panting and whining each second. the way you clamp and squeeze around him makes his head spin.
“m-make me, girl.” he pouts.
you rolled your eyes, leaning in to kiss him and gojo moans in your mouth. the slim tip of his tongue ran against yours and he was so sloppy, breathing out his nose. he squeezed your ass with his left hand before whimpering once he started to bottom out.
he pulls away, simultaneously grabbing one of your breasts to latch his lips onto your perky nipple, a sweet attempt to hide his moans but he was still loud.
“mph,” he muffled, blue eyes staring up at you as you rode him so good his eyes nearly starts to roll back and you moan from the stimulation. his orgasm came so hard that he’s almost seeing stars. he painted your insides white—so much came out, it’s like he’s been saving his old just for you, he couldn’t stop tottering while being beneath you.
that’s when he lets out a sharp breath—tapping you lightly with his bottom lip visibly poking out.
“can..can you praise me?” he pants, you slow down your rhythm and gojo’s pupils dilates a bit, he swallows before moaning once you lean in to kiss near his neck. “your voice gets me so..tingly.”
“you did so good, satoru,” you hummed, kissing his nose, then his neck, then his chin, he’s still buried inside and he can’t stop moaning from your touch.
you run a finger down his v-line and he whimpers, his eyes following your movement and he was indeed warm. “…good boy.”
“jus’ hearing you talk ‘s gonna make me cum again, baby.” he choked out.
his soft shaky moans go against your ear the minute you start to ride him again, a slow yet sensual pace and he’s about to lose his mind. “don’t s-stop fucking me please. ‘m your good boy. all yours...fuck.”
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gojoath · 3 months
Note
you know that tweet that goes "my bf fucks me until I get shy around him again" i need yuuta to do that to me pls i'm begging he looks so good😭😭😭
𐑺 ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ TWO HALVES OF A WHOLE, OKKOTSU YŪTA
sometimes you swear you have two boyfriends, the one that loves you and the one that fucks you.
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summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. jealousy. possessiveness. obsession. reader is oblivious but also enjoys it. threats. spitting. promise ring mention. aged up characters. marking. wc, 2k.
note. anime yūta debut FINALLY, thank you anon for this !! it just fuelled my brain to keep going TvT
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you swear you have two boyfriends, you must.. because this yuuta— the one that’s fucking you now, rutting you into the mattress with such carnal desire because he didn’t like the way that dude who served you both your coffee this morning was looking at you, is obscenely different to the one that still blushes when you answer his i love you with a sweetened one of your own and a kiss.
“do you know him?” he’d asked as he took his seat across from you at the table, right after he’d chosen to pull out your own for you like the loving boyfriend he was. the perfect boyfriend. you want to ask who he’s talking about but you’d be an idiot not to know— you can basically feel the poor barista’s nerves from your table.
“he’s staring,” yuuta continues and you want to say that he’s staring as he holds his gaze, but you’re pretty sure he knows that already— the veins on his hands are prominent with how tightly he’s gripping the cup in his palms and you’re surprised it hasn’t smashed yet. it’s like the hostility is radiating off of him in waves despite the kindhearted smile he’s showing you.
“yuuta it’s fine,” you try to reason with him and it only makes him breathe out a soft chuckle before he’s taking a sip of his drink— the words seem to calm him, albeit temporarily as he shifts in his seat. “it’s customer service, he’s paid to be nice.” he offers the barista behind you another glance and then his eyes are back on you as he scratches cutely at the back of his neck.
“ah, i’m not worried.” yuuta’s tone is lighthearted, it’s sweet and soft in the way that you’re used to before both his hands are back on the table to clasp one of yours. his grip is a little too tight, but it’s nothing you’re not used to before his words taker a lower, deeper drawl. “because you’re all mine. right?”
two personalities wrapped up in one pretty boy, you think. but then your thoughts are cut off with the next languid roll of his hips as he deliberately slows his pace to a deep rock. you feel his fingers trace up your jaw before they’re pressing against your parted lips, prying them further open “open, baby.”
and you do, catching the glimmer of something twisted in his gaze at the way you listen so eagerly. your tongue swipes along his fingers before you watch a glob of spit drip slow from between his lips, making you moan when you feel the taste of him drench and ignite your taste buds.
“are you mine?” yuuta asks and the gentle, careful tone is such a contrast to the look in his eyes— it’s like a hunters gaze, rooting you in place, daring you to run— it’s like a promise that he’ll catch you even if you did.
“mhm, i’m yours, yuuta. please. only y-yours—ah.” his fingers press down on your tongue as he pushes them in a little more and you can feel the cool press of the promise ring on his finger. it’s one identical to yours. it’s the same one he’d gifted you six weeks into officially being your boyfriend after he’d assured you that time doesn’t matter, only your love for eachother does.
although if you asked him now, he still doesn’t think it’s enough to show the world you’re his. even though he’d prefer to keep you locked away with only him forever. you think it’s cute when he jokes like that.
it’s so twisted, maybe a little worrying for anyone else that you can’t help but like when yuuta gets like this. the way it makes you nervous again, butterflies in your gut like it’s the first time he’s been above you and suddenly you feel even warmer to touch. you feel shy despite the way he’s had you like this more times than you can count.
it’s lewd, animalistic but then you’ll get a peek of the other part of him when the next heavy rock of his hips is accompanied with a sweet, gentle kiss smeared across your forehead with his next breath as he pulls back his fingers from your mouth, weaving them with yours instead and squeezing tight.
“h-how, how does it feel?” yuuta’s words tremble with his next thrust as your pussy squeezes around him and your lips part to moan at the sweet question, body clenching and eyes fluttering closed as he grinds into your pussy. he’s rutting you into the mattress like a wild fucking animal before his blown gaze is scanning over you, drinking you up with a satisfied, adoring look.
“good, yuu~ s-so good!” he’s so pretty, fucking you so well you can barely find your words and it’s filthy the way he knows where to press, where to palm and kiss until you’re arching into him— like he’s studied the very way you play with your own pussy up close. like he’d torn you apart and put you back together himself.
he’s fucking you into a puddle of desire and need for only him.
you’re vaguely aware, although barely over the sounds of your own weak whimpers and long, needy moans, that he’s whispering under his breath, panting and growling softly.
“he probably wishes he could see you like this,” another slow rock of yuuta’s hips and he deliberately presses against that saccharine, sweet spot inside of your walls, making your thighs squeeze tight around his hips as he breathes deep.
“you’re pretty, so pretty,” you can’t help the physical reaction you have to his words, cunt clutching tight and your hips thrusting up to meet his own movements. you both gasp and his pace stutters but he continues. “but you’re mine, all of you.. it’s mine.” his words go buried in your skin— in your walls when they’re accompanied by a particularly sharp thrust. it’s like his love fills and swells within you in turn, until your lungs are tight, as if you can’t quite get enough air with each breath.
“i know, yuu~ i love you so much,” yuuta’s kisses smear over your cheek, hot breaths panting against your skin as he takes a pace that has your tits jolting with every clap of his hips into yours.
“s-say it again.” you hear him gulp on his next words and your pussy squeezes even tighter, “i need to know you mean it.” the soft slap of your pussy meets his pelvis and it makes your insides curl and ache, the feeling of his balls smacking your ass leaving you breathless with every connection.
“i love you,”
“show me.” you’re more than eager to give him when he asks you like that, hissed through clenched teeth and you whine long and wordless for him as bliss washes over you. you feel him tremble over you as you do, smearing messy kisses and spit over your cheek and neck— mumbling praises and i love yous against your jaw and lips as he looks at you.
you’re vaguely aware of how broken and weak your moans sound, but the rush in your head while you cum is a little too loud and delightful for you to really care about anything else except the man who made you feel exactly that. your thighs struggle to close, instinctively, as you shy away from the pleasure but yuuta shifts on purpose to keep them spread, his fingers withdrawing to rub softly through the swollen petals of your pussy so he can prolong your pliant state.
“i knew i didnt have anything to worry about,”
it doesn’t take long for him to follow after you. his cock flexes, thickening in a way that feels as if it grows with each greedy coax of your twitching cunt, until he pauses, followed by a breathier croon of your name as he spills hot inside you.
yuuta’s chest presses against yours, lips suckling into the crook of your neck, nails dragging gently down your hips as he presses his load into you until you whimper. you twitch and he uses the movement to hug you closer, stilling inside of you when he’s got his face buried into your shoulder and you both catch your breath.
you lie there for a long time, or so it feels until he’s leaving you quickly to grab you some water and a warm cloth. he returns in what feels like seconds, but now that you’re orgasm has finally worn off, you can barely look at him.
you’re not sure if it’s because of how hard and good he’s just made you cum or the pleasure he’d pulled from you so easily, leaving you in bite marks and bruises. but you feel so nervous suddenly as you twist nervously at the promise ring on your finger.
“are you okay?” yuuta asks quickly, a soft tone to his voice as the mattress dips when he sits next to you. he leans forward when he does, smearing a kiss against your cheek before he’s handing you the cool glass of water, which you take with shaking hands.
hes gorgeous, dark hair mused through the day from his hands gliding through it and now yours, falling forward around his face from being swept back to frame his flushed features now.
you meet his gaze and you’d think it burned you as you shy away, feeling heat creep to your cheeks when his fingers stroke gently at your arm. “i’m sorry, did i hurt you?” there’s a soft nervousness to his eyes despite his usual haunting gaze. he bites on his lower lip as he looks over you.
“ah.. sorry.” you try to keep your own bashfulness aside as you take a sip of water, letting it cool the scratchiness in your throat as you swallow.
“no, it’s..” he looks at you so intently, but there was always something in his gaze that made you feel cold despite the sweat across your body. but still you grin, before petting your hand across his.
“it’s cute seeing you all protective, that’s all.”
“is it weird?”
“no! not at all, it’s hot—“
“oh, ah— thanks.” he nods, a little shy and back to his kindhearted, sweet demeanour when you share a kiss, sighing with the content press of your bodies.
“did you know him?” yuuta kisses your forehead despite the way he presses the topic again. “i can find you another cafe if you want,” he breathes, another kiss to your skin following. he curls his arm around you as he looks over you and it’s with so much adoration that it makes your toes curl in the same way your body had a few minutes ago.
“maybe he’s new, i’ve never seen him. i like that cafe though.” you shrug, not seeing any real issue with it. but his dark eyes flash towards you and you giggle when he suddenly presses you down against the bed to kiss you passionately.
“i just don’t want anyone making you uncomfortable, i’ll kill them.” yuuta kisses you hungrily, making you sigh as you melt beneath him— you’re like gum, bending to his will with every flick of his tongue.
“i know, yuuta. you always joke about that. i still want to keep going to that cafe though,” his hand cups your cheek and you smile. he leans in to kiss you firmly with his next breath.
“we can go together. i don’t think we’ll see him again anyway.”
“what, why not?”
“because i want you to be happy.” your chest jumps when yuuta’s words urge you to curl closer— making something warm bloom in your chest at the love he makes you feel. you can feel him smile into the next kiss he smears along your temple, and he makes sure the kiss after is against the promise ring on your finger when he gives you another smile.
it’s hours later when yuuta leaves you, kissing your forehead before he’s slinging his katana over his shoulder and leaving you asleep. he’ll make it home before you realise he’s gone. the shift at the cafe is just finishing, and this won’t take long.
maybe his two personalities aren’t as far apart as he let you believe.
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© gojoath. do not copy, repost, modify or translate my works. please refrain from copying my layouts / themes.
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peregrine21 · 9 months
Text
“Royal Gala Escapade” - Alexandra Privet x Fem!Reader
Pairing: Alexandra Privet x Reader (Barbie Princess Charm School)
Includes: fluff/angst
Warnings: homophobia/forced dances w suitor guys
Word Count: 2,266 (wow I hit 2000?! Such a rarity :o)
Brief Description: Alexandra is your Lady Royal and your parents threw a ball with suitors to find a prince to marry you off to before they hand down the throne.  Oops turns out you’ve been secretly dating your lady royal for a year and a half and that may or may not come to light in front of everyone t the ball. Initial reactions not so great but Alexandra is there for you through it all :)
~~~
You were finishing up your makeup as Alexandra curled your hair for you in preparation for the royal gala. This was a major gala set up by your parents to finally find you a suitor, and you were already anxious. Little to their knowledge, your continued distaste in the princes wasn’t just due to some of their demeanors or appearances. Even you could admit several of them were quite handsome, well mannered, chivalrous, and respectful. They deserved a princess who could truly love them, but that wasn’t you. Your heart already belonged to Alexandra. Publicly, she was merely seen as your lady royal; behind closed doors, however, there was much more between the two of you. Royals weren’t known to take same-sex courting lightly, as they saw it as a threat to their lineages, so you both decided to keep your relationship secret. You'd have nothing to worry about if only your parents weren’t traditionalists who wanted their daughter married to a prince before handing down the throne.
As you stared into the mirror touching up your eyeliner, Alexandra noticed the nervous look on your face, “it’ll be fine darling, we’ll be together all night.” You close the felt tip pen momentarily and give it an extra shake, “I know love, but I still don’t think our courtship will go over lightly if it gets out tonight. I'm just afraid of what could happen”. Alexandra combed through your curls with her fingers to fluff them out. “Well whatever happens, I’ll be right there with you”. After a few more touch ups in comfortable silence, a knock on the door could be heard, followed by the butler’s voice: “Princess, you are expected to enter in 5 minutes”. “She’s just about ready, we’ll be right down!” Alexandra called back. You gave her a nervous glance and she cupped your cheek in her hand, rubbing it over with her thumb before leaning in for a light kiss. “I’ll be right with you darling, promise.” All you could muster was a small smile before she led you out the door, her hand on your lower back as you walked to the grand staircase for your entrance.  
You reach the top of the staircase and take a deep breath, Alexandra’s hand still on your back. After a few minutes, your name and title are announced, followed by Alexandra’s name and position as your Lady Royal. Upon hearing your names, the two of you begin the descent down the staircase. You exhale as you descend the extensive and elaborately embellished staircase, not one person in the room looking away from you. Your appearance wasn’t what worried you; Alexandra had made sure every detail of that was perfect. It was the line of princes at the bottom of the staircase and the hushed voices of guests bidding on which one you’ll pick. Upon reaching the bottom of the steps, each prince was announced one by one followed by the proper formalities: their name was called, they bowed, and you curtsied and thanked them for coming to the event. Of course all of this being purely ceremonial, there was nothing much to look into. But that didn't stop guests from reading into each greeting to see if you favored any of the princes more than the others. One prince, Nicolosi, was definitely bolder than the others as he called claims on the first dance with you in his greeting to which you couldn’t say no without being seen as rude or uncouth. Naturally, after the formal greetings were over the king, your father, announced for the ball to commence. Nicolosi was quick to take your hand and pull you to the center of the ballroom. The music began, and the two of you started a waltz as the rest of the guests danced around you, giving ample distance for the both of you to have space and some sort of private conversation. He tried to get to know you, asking about interests, opinions, and more baseline questions as if this was some sort of school orientation. You entertained his small talk until the dance was over and you were able to thank him and part ways. To your annoyance, however, it didn’t even take 15 seconds for the next prince, Alexander, to come and ask for a dance. Similarly, he made small talk as the two of you danced; it didn't take much effort or thought as royals were taught ballroom dancing from a young age. Alexander, au contraire to Nicolosi, chose the conversation questions of what you were looking for in a relationship to which you attempted to answer vaguely as not to give anything away. The next prince, Bradley, delved into opinions on political and social matters which led to some disagreement and an awkward second half of your dance. Of course following was Gabriel, Theodore, Tristan, and probably a dozen more lined up. After half a dozen dances and forced conversations, you had to excuse yourself to take a breather. 
Both your parents - as well as Alexandra - followed suit as you made your way to the banquet for something to drink and dine on. Your father tried to dismiss Alexandra but you insisted she stay with you as you took a breather from all the princes prying and prodding with their questions and conversations. You started to fill a plate as he attempted to gauge your feelings toward the princes, but you ignored his questions and made your way up to your place at the table with Alexandra. The princes were next to fill their plates and the general guests after. As you ate, you did have to answer to some of your parents’ prodding but remained vague and still showed a general disinterest in all the suitors thus far. Even in the slightly passing thought of settling for one, you couldn't bring yourself to consider any of them. The only thing making this slightly bearable was finally having Alexandra with you again as she rubbed your arm as a form of silent support. You observed the princes as they ate, noticing much roughing around, several spills, loud laughs and remarks, and more. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at their lack of  etiquette, cleanliness, and maturity. Once your appetite had been sustained, and slightly diminished, you rested your head on Alexandra’s shoulder as you continued to spectate the crowd and observe the behaviors of the suitors. You noticed your mother with a concerned look glancing at you and couldn’t tell if it was because of the boys’ behavior or your outward affection towards Alexandra. You almost stopped caring, unable to imagine a happy future where you settled for one of the princes. There was a massive chance your relationship with Alexandra would finally be exposed tonight given your parents wanted a choice made by the end of the night. Alexandra noticed the worry on your face and the tension your body held and placed a hand on your thigh, rubbing it with her thumb. You took a deep breath and exhaled in exasperation, and she turned her head slightly in your direction, “Whatever your decision, I’ll be right there with you.” You smiled as she raised her voice, clearly wanting your father to hear her next statement, “I understand this is all a lot for you, but I’m absolutely sure your father wants nothing more than your happiness.” He agreed with her statement as you both looked over at him. “Exactly! I know you haven’t been keen on all this romantic stuff, but it would be too overwhelming to rule the kingdom on your own. It’s not that your mother and I want to rush you into marriage, we just don’t want to put the entire weight of the kingdom on you alone. And, of course, we want you to be happy with whoever you decide to start a courtship with. That’s why we made sure you’d have so many options tonight.” You understood his reasoning and told him so, but still were nervous on how he would take your decision. As much as his reaction sounded like he’d be open to you courting your lady royal, it didn’t seem definite. 
The dinner concluded, and the ball became more of an informal mingling. Several of the suitors had become intoxicated and started acting more brash and uncouth. You made your way back down to the main floor with Alexandra in tow, choosing a quieter area this time towards a wall. In a few moments, Bradly noticed the both of you and walked over, his gait wobbly, and leaned against the wall with his hand. You started to scoot back, but he adjusted his position to be right over you. Some of the other princes started to gather nearby, either watching what he would do or waiting for their own moment with you. You tried scooting away but then Bradly planted his other hand down boxing you in, “nuh-uh, noohh, you’re not going anywhere, you’re such a pretty little thing. Why waste it on them when you could have me, I –” Alexandra quickly cut him off as she pulled you out from under his arm and into her own, “I’d say that’s quite enough, this is not how a prince is supposed to act.” He stood up, visibly aggravated, “Who are YOU, … to tell ME,.. how to act?!, YOU’RE just an assistant, … I’M a prince, … so I think you–” 
“ENOUGH!” You cut him off.  “I’m not picking any of you!” Your father stood from his seat in shock, your mother with a jaw dropped expression just the same. “You know who I pick?, I pick Alexandra! That’s FINAL! She treats me with care and respect! She can tell when something is off and knows how to help! She has more elegance, maturity, manners, and skill than ANY of you have exhibited thus far during and prior to this ball!”. The entire room was silent, and Alexandra held onto you ready to make a run for it as the tension built in the room. Sure enough princes started screaming and throwing their fits, guests were going wild between their own confusion and the bets several of them had placed on which prince would be chosen. You were overwhelmed with all the yelling and chaos that your frustrated outburst had started. Alexandra, however, was ready. She snapped you out of it and pulled you out the nearest door and into the garden. You both ran, some suitors and guests following. She took you through turns and passages, losing the crowd before running up to your room and locking the door. The chaos was too much, and you just threw yourself onto the bed, her plopping beside you. After a few minutes, you were finally able to collect yourself a bit and take in the reality of what had just happened. You started laughing. Tears formed in your eyes, and Alexandra also laughed beside you. Neither of you really knew how to feel but just had to get all of the tension out of your systems.
“Did I really just do that?” you turned your head to look at her. “I believe you did, darling,” she turned her head to look back at you. “Well, I suppose it’s out now, though all those princes might be mad at me for a while. I don’t take it they’ll fancy coming to our wedding”, you laughed at the latter half of your statement. Alexandra just looked at you wide eyed with the most loving look of admiration gracing her face, “You mean…” You smiled, “Yes darling, I mean I would like to marry you. If you’ll have me, that is.” “Yes! Yes, I’ll have you!” tears formed in her eyes. Neither of you had ever thought you’d really get to this point; it had always seemed like a far out fever dream that you two would ever actually marry each other. "What about your parents, will they be alright with you marrying me?” she asked, a concerned look on her face. You turned on your side and cupped her cheek in your hand, “Why don’t we worry about that tomorrow, and for now… can we just cuddle up and sleep? I kinda don’t want to worry about anything else for tonight.” She giggled and replied, “I think that sounds like a plan,” before getting up and taking your hand in hers to pull you up with her. She then helped you out of your gown and the two of you got out of your formal attire, pulled down your hair, and took off your makeup before cuddling up together and turning in for the night.  
About an hour later, your father opened your door quietly and once he saw you two were there and fast asleep, closed it with a small smile. He had said after all that your happiness came first and he could see Alexandra brought that to you. Frankly, he was glad to know you would be in a loving relationship with her rather than in a questionable one after observing the princes’  behaviors himself at the ball. Although this was rather new and unconventional, your happiness was most important to him and your mother, and they would figure out how to deal with any discourse amongst other royals if need be. There was no reason to worry you about that when you had finally chosen your queen and had a wedding to plan. This was a time for you to be happy with your soon to be wife. 
The End :)
Writer’s speech:
 Hope it’s alright, I haven’t really written in a hot second (lol sorry for that, I’ll try my best not to go awol for a massively extensive period of time again). I guess this would be the first x reader with Alexandra that I’m aware of which I have been saying I’d write for a while now. Anyway, expect more to come, I have several plans and probably some Nana Bassler (anime: Plunderer) x Fem!Reader coming up next. Def will have some extra fluffy romance and flirting planned for her as well as a few spicy fics in the works as well :) Hope y’all have been doing well and I look forward to engaging with y’all and providing y’all with more content soon! 
Note: I would also be glad to get “x fem reader” ideas and maybe requests for the characters I write for, I will be sure to make a post listing those characters later. May also set up a formal sign up for tag lists.
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New Fandom Addition
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I've recently started watching Supernatural, and am in the mood for writing some imagines/x-readers. I am currently in the middle of 2x12 (season 2 episode 12). So, if you're going to request, keep in mind of spoilers 😂
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moderndaymystic · 4 months
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Intimacy is not just about sex. It's having heart-to-hearts, staying up all night talking, sharing childhood memories, thoughts, fears, dreams & hopes for the future. It's uncontrollable laughter, direct eye contact and feeling each other without touching - it's exchanging energy
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tetriminas · 4 months
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dating Miles Edgeworth headcanons (Miles Edgeworth x fem reader)
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He leaves you for a man
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